Atlanta, GA -> Moorsville, NC
Today, Memorial Day, is surreal to see whenever I am back east. It is a reminder of a cultural divide between the west and the rest of the country. Out west, Memorial Day occurs. It's marked on the calendar. Most people know it happens on a Monday. Some people even have it off. Fewer still will make plans in advance to throw a barbecue. We have a sense that we are supposed to grill and wear American flag shorts but nobody really does. This is not the case in the South. All through my drive today were reminders that things come to a stop for Memorial Day out here. Finding lunch on the road was difficult. I wound up at a Japanese restaurant in a small Carolina town. Read: teriyaki joint with a drive through. As I came to a rest stop in the Carolinas, I saw men getting out of their cars with fishing poles to take advantage of the bountiful lake and lax open container enforcement. At an interstate rest stop.
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| Not a nature preserve, a rest stop. |
BMW has a factory on the way and I decided to pop in to see what I could see. BMW Motorrad will always have a special place in my heart, my first big bike was an old airhead. They've really built a lovely factory out there. Lots of trees, water, and open space. Unfortunately it too was closed for the holiday. Oh well. I was able to catch a glimpse of the Isetta they had on display. Likely not built here.
I ended today in Race City USA, so named for the number of NASCAR teams headquartered in the area. I'm spending the next two night with a high school friend, Jack. He moved out here to work for a race team, a transplant but still steeped in the racing scene out here. His housing arrangement is a friendly deal from the team. The land is owned by Dale Earnhardt Jr, who also owns the team he works for. He gets a sweet rent deal, friendly neighbors, and all manner of other connections from the area. When he inquired about the bonfire wood pile in the center of his cul de sac, he was told "Just light 'er up whenever you want. Your neighbors will be out with lawn chairs and cold beer." We went to a local BBQ joint for dinner and every wall was covered in race memorabilia. Photos, helmets, even a car. He was disappointed to find that the secret menu for NASCAR ID holders was not currently being served. Darn. A chill evening and tomorrow I'm exploring on my own while he makes race cars go faster. Good times.
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| Motorrad, meet Moto Guzzi |
I ended today in Race City USA, so named for the number of NASCAR teams headquartered in the area. I'm spending the next two night with a high school friend, Jack. He moved out here to work for a race team, a transplant but still steeped in the racing scene out here. His housing arrangement is a friendly deal from the team. The land is owned by Dale Earnhardt Jr, who also owns the team he works for. He gets a sweet rent deal, friendly neighbors, and all manner of other connections from the area. When he inquired about the bonfire wood pile in the center of his cul de sac, he was told "Just light 'er up whenever you want. Your neighbors will be out with lawn chairs and cold beer." We went to a local BBQ joint for dinner and every wall was covered in race memorabilia. Photos, helmets, even a car. He was disappointed to find that the secret menu for NASCAR ID holders was not currently being served. Darn. A chill evening and tomorrow I'm exploring on my own while he makes race cars go faster. Good times.
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