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a thread or two back y’all were talking about parts of the United States, and the deep south.
Over the years i’ve ridden through every one of the 48.
I’ve met wonderful people most everywhere.
Never anyone directly hostile and looking back, I can’t think of any overtly bad experiences.
That’s with a loud obnoxious Harley with new york plates (back then).
I sure was wary of what might happen in ‘the south’.
The nicest people I ever met, the two most memorable encounters still resonate:
Mississippi and Alabama.
story and a couple of pix.
On a ride from NOLA to memphis in the late 80’s the bike started to wheeze and cough somewhere in
mississippi. i limped into a honda dealer i want to say in Greenville. I said i know you guys dont know anything about harleys but can you help?
They were not busy and two fellas spent close to 2 hours testing and troubleshooting from the point of view
of highschool engine mechanics. spark, gas, air, etc. then a 3rd joined in becaus it was a challenge. They finally found it. A carb gasket had disintegrated from the engine heat. Sucking air through the gap so the fuel mxture was off. they pulled the carb, used liquid gasket and charged me like $40. I was off before dark and back in memphis for dinner.
Next day i took it to the local harley dealer, told them the story and asked them to re-fix it. they said the job was perfect. They wouldnt touch it, and i never did. I put a lot of miles on that gasket.
I wrote to Honda.
During a one year grand tour in ‘92-93 I wound up in a small fishing campground on Weiss lake in Alabama. How I got there is an eerie story for another time.
i pulled in and met the nicest elderly campground owners. friendly and accommodating.
One of the locals, whose name i no longer recall, lived in a small trailer there.
i was tent camping. a huge storm came through at night - they were all worried for me but i wouldnt quit and seek the shelter of a camper.
turned out fine and next day i have a new buddy, wants to take me sight seeing.
(remember NY plates and Im sure he saw the horns we all have)
we get in his car and take off, literally for the hills; totally at his mercy. do you hear Dueling Banjos?
we come out in an upper valley somewhere in the mountains and it’s a huge flea market / swap meet, the likes of which i had never seen. totally different from the old Roosevelt Raceway ‘flea market’ on long island.
I had a blast of a time.
i took off a couple of days later for Jacksboro TN to pick up the trailer i had just bought and that i’d end up
putting 50k miles or so on it.
Mississippi and Alabama. whodathunkit?
i wasnt a NY snob. just full of prejudgement.
30-40 years later i still remember these folks well enough.
They changed my view of Americans, the world and myself.
‘the rig’ - years later, riding to teach a scuba class in Ft. Lauderdale, the Keys, Pennsylvania, etc.
Boise City, OK around 2007
