Bartlett, TN -> Nashville, TN

My last full day in central time. Adjusting the clock on the bike is a pain in the ass. They won't let you do it while you're moving. Even a Moto Guzzi is not free of electronic nannying.

I woke up in the sleepy suburb of Bartlett. Fare well to Memphis. The first place I've been to on this trip with a disregard for traffic law that can rival Los Angeles. God bless y'all. I decided to take the highways today because I had more time to do it and the check in time for my Airbnb wasn't until 4PM anyway. I caffeinated myself and steamed out, no need for breakfast. I held out for the first two hours until I got to Henderson, Tennessee. I stopped for lunch at The Chow Wagon. Real country eatin'

If you squint you can see the real country prices

Everything I had for lunch was either sweetened or fried and none of it was made on site. All part of the fun. I've always regarded mustard as the appropriate topping for a corn dog, images of a perfect sine wave of mustard across the batter come to mind. This outfit determined I needed to sweeten it with ketchup. After stomaching the shock that I had not yet succumbed to diabeetus I hit the road.

At 55 miles an hour and under, I can listen to humans speaking over my headset. Above that it is simply too loud. I chose to seize the opportunity the highway afforded me and  not listen to music. It felt good to catch up on The Economist and hear a bit about the world outside of my handlebars. I pulled into Nashville, it was a struggle. The easy ride of the early afternoon devolved into brutal heat and brutal traffic. At tonight's stay the parking lot is all dirt, this is the enemy of the motorcyclist looking to park. A motorcycle's sidestand will, given enough time, collapse in soft and wet soil laying a bike on its side. Parking the bike took a quarter of an hour as I scavenged for a thin hard rock to lay under the stand. Not doing so would risk mechanical issues or worse, embarrassment.

I showered and went out on the town. Regrettably, without my camera. I walked through Fisk College and took the bus downtown. I cruised through on one of those electric scooters only tourists seem to ride to get a taste if the area and bussed across the Cumberland River to East Nashville. That was where I encountered the Nashville hot. Medium hot suggests that the level of spice I encountered was in the middle, or between two other levels. To that I ask, "What other levels!?" This was the spiciest thing I had eaten in some time. Evidently, a lifetime of eating authentic Mexican cuisine in California did not prepare me for this. It was delicious, I'm sure I will regret it tomorrow. To add insult to injury this was a grab and go shop so I was stuck sniveling and crying in a parking lot next to a gas station. Owie. I would do it again. My only regret was not being able to finish the fried okra.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a tiki bar junkie. Anyone who knows me and knows Nashville (nobody) could have guessed that I made my way to Pearl Diver in East Nashville. I would like to begin by shouting out my bartender for the night. I don't remember your name and that's because I was well taken care of. Thank you. I had a lovely conversation with a jew(ish) Nashvillian tattooist (there is such a thing). If you're ever in need of an inking or a field dressing for a surface wound get in touch with the Death Nurse. She'll set you right.

I'm saddened that I only got to spend one night here. I feel as though I owe Music City a proper visit. Until we meet again Nashville!

Today's Distance: 202 miles

Total Distance: 2365 miles