I returned yesterday from a trip to Huntsville, Alabama. My son has been very much into aviation, engineering, and space travel for awhile now, so we thought it might do him some good to spend a long weekend at Space Camp. Turns out we were right, his mind is totally blown from everything he learned during his short (3 day) stay. I hope he stays with his dreams and does exactly what he wants to do.
This trip to space-enthusiast Mecca was not only for the boys' benefit, I had a little something special in store for myself as well.
While he was busy getting his mind blown, I was busy getting mine blown by the Barber Vintage Motorsports Museum. I was lucky enough to be able to take my motorcycle along for this trip, and I decided to ride down Saturday morning to BMP from Huntsville. Of course, things would never quite work out this easy for me. There had to some sort of kink thrown in to make things interesting. This time it was the weather. I had been watching the northern Alabama weather for a couple weeks prior to the trip, and was looking forward to experiencing some of the dry weather they've been having for the last several weeks. I was tired of the Texas rain.
But dry weather was not to be. As soon as I left Burleson and headed east, the rain clouds began to follow. They followed me all the way to Huntsville. And stayed. When I arrived, the weather was marginal at best.
The roads were wet, but at least the rain had abated for a bit. But it was not to last. The next morning, Saturday, it was coming down in a slow drizzle and stayed that way all day long.
Getting saddled up for the wet ride to Barber.
The roads in northern Alabama are gorgeous, but they looked and felt very slick after weeks of no rain. On the trip back to the hotel from Barber I think the oil slick had finally rinsed off. The roads were still wet, but grip had increased noticeably.
Terrible shot of the bridge over the White River. While we're on the subject of the pictures, I apologize for the poor quality. I left my digital at home. What you see in this ride report are the product of disposable cameras.
The first little town on my route to BMP was called Arab. Great name for a little southern town. I didn't get off the bike, but I shot a couple pics anyway.
Looked like a nice enough town, and I didn't see a single insurgent or suicide bomber. The Arabian BBQ stand was very tempting, but it was a little early for lunch, and I had places to be.
A little further down the road I spotted a historic marker. I'm always talking about how I should stop and read these things, but I never do. So I did.
A little closer please...
I know, it's still hard to read. Sorry about that. It basically says there was a wagon train raid at this spot on May 1, 1863. A group of Confederate solders, under the command of General N.B. Forrestt, captured the supply wagons of Union raiders who were under the command of a Col. Straight.
A little further down Alabama 231, I came to Ashville. This looked like a nice place to stop and stretch my legs a bit. Ashville, the county seat of St. Clair Co., has a neat little courthouse surrounded by a nice town square. I strolled around for a few minutes, chuckling at all the stares I was getting from the locals. The answer to their question is yes, that guy is crazy.
I road from Ashville straight to BMP. The rain was still coming down and I was ready to get there.
Next up: The bikes.
This trip to space-enthusiast Mecca was not only for the boys' benefit, I had a little something special in store for myself as well.
While he was busy getting his mind blown, I was busy getting mine blown by the Barber Vintage Motorsports Museum. I was lucky enough to be able to take my motorcycle along for this trip, and I decided to ride down Saturday morning to BMP from Huntsville. Of course, things would never quite work out this easy for me. There had to some sort of kink thrown in to make things interesting. This time it was the weather. I had been watching the northern Alabama weather for a couple weeks prior to the trip, and was looking forward to experiencing some of the dry weather they've been having for the last several weeks. I was tired of the Texas rain.
But dry weather was not to be. As soon as I left Burleson and headed east, the rain clouds began to follow. They followed me all the way to Huntsville. And stayed. When I arrived, the weather was marginal at best.
The roads were wet, but at least the rain had abated for a bit. But it was not to last. The next morning, Saturday, it was coming down in a slow drizzle and stayed that way all day long.
Getting saddled up for the wet ride to Barber.
The roads in northern Alabama are gorgeous, but they looked and felt very slick after weeks of no rain. On the trip back to the hotel from Barber I think the oil slick had finally rinsed off. The roads were still wet, but grip had increased noticeably.
Terrible shot of the bridge over the White River. While we're on the subject of the pictures, I apologize for the poor quality. I left my digital at home. What you see in this ride report are the product of disposable cameras.
The first little town on my route to BMP was called Arab. Great name for a little southern town. I didn't get off the bike, but I shot a couple pics anyway.
Looked like a nice enough town, and I didn't see a single insurgent or suicide bomber. The Arabian BBQ stand was very tempting, but it was a little early for lunch, and I had places to be.
A little further down the road I spotted a historic marker. I'm always talking about how I should stop and read these things, but I never do. So I did.
A little closer please...
I know, it's still hard to read. Sorry about that. It basically says there was a wagon train raid at this spot on May 1, 1863. A group of Confederate solders, under the command of General N.B. Forrestt, captured the supply wagons of Union raiders who were under the command of a Col. Straight.
A little further down Alabama 231, I came to Ashville. This looked like a nice place to stop and stretch my legs a bit. Ashville, the county seat of St. Clair Co., has a neat little courthouse surrounded by a nice town square. I strolled around for a few minutes, chuckling at all the stares I was getting from the locals. The answer to their question is yes, that guy is crazy.
I road from Ashville straight to BMP. The rain was still coming down and I was ready to get there.
Next up: The bikes.