| Here in Illinois, I can smell Florida. My trained olfactory senses
pick up a whiff of orange and I'm possessed to get home. The only
problem is Alberto churning in the gulf. My friends encourage me to take
an extra day to get home. My friends are clearly smarter than I am. A
reservation awaits me in Macon, GA which should be just north of the
storm. If the weather was good, I'd probably push on through.
Yesterday and the day before were both 750 mile days. Today will only be 625, which is a relief. Coming through Atlanta, I see the biggest house boat I've ever seen on land. The boat is so big that it takes up 2 complete lanes on the freeway and requires the use of a State Trooper escort. This is just me, but if you have a vehicle this big I would suspect that you stay in the 2 right lanes. This vehicle is passing traffic like it's a Ferrari, not a wide load. Curious. I also stop at BMW of Atlanta to visit the owner, Bob. This dealership gives BMW a good name, which is something they sorely can use. Bob is getting ready to head to Prudhoe Bay, Alaska to try to make a record run to Key West. He's the man. I've done the run several years ago and know that 4 days is doable, but a challenge. Bob mentions that the Dalton Highway is now paved up to Coldfoot. Factor in that the road is darn good 70 miles south of Prudhoe into the city, that only leaves about 170 miles of rough road out of the almost 600 miles I had when I went. He's got the focus to break the record and I wish him well. Twenty miles north of Macon the sky opens up and I wonder if I shouldn't have stopped at the BMW dealer. The sirens are screaming as the accidents pile up. I make it to the motel in one piece and do a final chain cleaning. It appears that my chain is finally beginning to stretch and requires the first adjustment of the trip. This would happen when I arrive home also.
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