LEAVING DAYTONA - An adventure getting home

This is a true story about our adventures just trying to get home from Biketoberfest, my first motorcycle rally ever. I was very new at riding motorcycles at this point. This happened back in the early autumn of 1998, so you'll understand about the cell phone issue a little better.

LEAVING DAYTONA – An adventure “after” Biketoberfest!

   This is a story about our escapades following our first visit to 

Daytona for Biketoberfest. Before I get started on that though, let me give a brief summary on the highlights while AT Daytona. We had loaded the bikes into a U-Haul trailer, towed by my little Dodge pickup, and traveled down from Maryland to save time and just “get there”. We enjoyed an ocean front room at the Desert Inn, right on A1A. The hotel was nice enough to give us underground parking for the bikes, the U-Haul trailer and my truck. Main Street was within walking distance. We took a walk on the beach and helped a baby sea turtle make its first swim in the ocean, basically rescuing it from some ravenous sea gulls and pelicans. We only hope it survived after swimming off, as pelicans continued to make dives into the water in the area we suspected the little guy was. We checked out the Iron Horse Saloon, Daytona Speedway, Daytona Harley-Davidson, the Biketoberfest swap meet held out at the fairgrounds (where I scored a leather vest with fringes and red suede rose decoration for only $40!), and some other miscellaneous shops/tourist places. We rode the bikes right down Main Street, which is something you really HAVE to do for the whole experience! We rode through a variety of weather conditions to include pouring rain, sun, and crosswinds that pelted us with sand. We finally got to meet Jack, my cyber-friend for many months, who journeyed to Daytona from Alabama. We met Evel Knievel (a true highlight of the trip) and Paul had his jean vest autographed while I just had my picture taken with him. On Sat. night we entered a pre-Halloween costume contest… and WON!!!!! Paul went as Mordrid, Warrior of Death, while I was a female Viking. The prize was a certificate/voucher good for one year giving us an ocean front room for two nights, three days at any of several hotels along A1A. Soooo…that’s it for Daytona, now let’s talk about LEAVING DAYTONA!!!

    Sunday morning, it took us a while to pack but we made it. We even 

had the bikes loaded before checkout time. Our plan was to merely drive a third of the way home, to Savanna, Georgia, and spend the evening being tourists, having a nice dinner, etc. On our way out of town, we stopped for a great Denny’s lunch, which took quite a while since they were totally packed and the kitchen was slow. We felt sorry for our waitress who was working what she explained was the tenth hour of her tenth day in a row. She explained this after Paul asked her if she was okay and the tears started flowing. We gave her a “sympathy” bottle of Heather Ale as we got ready to hit the road. We gassed up the truck, checked tire pressures, etc. and finally got on the highway, feeling content with the idea that we just had a short distance to go (225 miles) before we called it a day. I videotaped our initial miles of “leaving Daytona” while Paul drove. We stopped and bought some Florida Oranges and checked out the pecans after seeing several billboards advertising them (which were a rip-off and we didn’t buy any) and the 13 foot gator, which was FAKE!

    We had gone about 175 miles when Paul thought he heard something 

wrong with the engine and pulled over. We checked the oil, the one thing we DIDN’T do before departing the gas station! The dipstick was BONE dry. We had brought oil with us, so ended up adding all 4 quarts until there was a little bit of oil showing on the dipstick. Then, we got back in the truck and started driving, but the engine was still having problems. We could only get the truck up to about 55mph, then we suddenly started losing speed. I suggested we take the very next exit that was coming up so that we could have a gas station look at it and Paul quickly exited. No more than 50 feet off the highway, the engine totally quit. We had enough speed to coast up to the top of the exit (no way were we stopping at the stop sign!) and followed the road to the right since it went downhill. There was an Amoco gas station right there and we coasted all the way into the parking area in the back since we were pulling the U-haul trailer. I quickly called AAA on the pay phone while Paul went into the convenience store to let them know what had happened. AAA told me a tow truck would be there in about 20 minutes, but they wouldn’t tow the U-haul trailer. So, we quickly unloaded the trailer enough to get the Harley out, disconnected the trailer, and unloaded the Yamaha Virago from the back of the truck (a good Samaritan helped Paul when the darn thing got stuck/bottomed out at the top of the ramp). We wanted the bikes for transportation anyway. We locked the U-haul to a telephone pole after okaying it with the guy working at the Amoco. About 10 minutes after we’d finished all of this, the tow truck driver showed up. He told us there was a mechanic, a guy whom he’d known his whole life, just a mile from there who would be able to fix the truck by putting a used engine in it. It also just so happened that he was there at his shop since this driver had just delivered another broken down vehicle to him. So, we followed him on the bikes down to the shop to meet Ernest. He said he could have us all taken care of within 48 hours provided he could find us an engine and we came up with the money and oh, by the way, he didn’t take credit cards! Great!

  So, our next big decision was where to sleep for the night. We had 

already packed our gym bags with a couple days worth of clothes and toiletries while waiting for the tow truck, so we were mobile, or so I thought!! Ha!! I just wanted to go back down the road to one of the hotels at exit 11 (the fated exit we had taken just in the nick of time). One of the guys there at the garage suggested we make the trip to Savannah, since there wasn’t any "action" in Eulonia, Georgia. Paul seemed inclined to do that, so I reluctantly agreed (“yea, whatever”), myself already down in spirit since I was now mentally occupied with where I was going to get the money for the engine work (after spending so much money at Daytona). As a matter of fact, I was so preoccupied, I rode off on the Harley, following Paul, who was on the Yamaha, without my glasses and here I was wearing a half helmet with no face shield. It took me about a mile to realize why something seemed missing, then I wasted another mile flashing my lights, honking my horn trying to get Paul to pull over. I finally just pulled over at the next opportunity and waited for him to come back. He then said, yes, he remembered me laying my glasses down on the truck while I signed the paperwork for the tow. Since we knew we had 50 miles ahead of us, he suggested I just wear his sunglasses as he had a full-face helmet on. (In case you are wondering, if we had gone back to get the glasses, we would have been too late, since we found out later that Ernest had locked them up in the truck, then put the truck inside the garage and gone home.) So I wore Paul’s sunglasses, only they started fogging up real bad and I could hardly see. My eyelashes kept swiping the surface of the glasses and clearing some of the fog up. Paul pulled over about 10 miles later, wondering why I was hanging back and I explained. We looked in the convenience store there and I bought another pair of sunglasses that seemed like they would work better. It was then, that I told Paul I didn’t feel comfortable going the next 40 miles with sunglasses on and it was rapidly getting dark at this point. We turned around and went back to the little sleepy town of Eulonia, where I was never SO glad to see a hotel and be able to see again (sunglasses at night are truly scary when you’re going 55 mph)!! I realized I needed to get some clear goggles or else wear my full-face helmet (which was at home in Maryland) at night! We checked into the Ramada Limited, all the hotels looked deserted, but this one looked like the nicest. The gal checked us in, we dropped our bags in the room, locked up the bikes, then headed next door to a little “mom and pop” pizza place. They made their pizzas from scratch, even tossing the dough in the air. The gal working that night took good care of us, big tall frosty glasses of beer while we waited for the pizza to cook. Then we took the pizza back to the hotel to eat it, drink even more beer (they trusted us with the pitchers/glasses), and finally fall exhaustedly to sleep. (Sunday night)

  The next morning, after the complimentary hotel continental 

breakfast of toast, cereal, and juice/coffee, we called Ernest and he said he’d found an engine and that it was going to be $1800 installed. The good news was that it only had 22,000 miles on it. I spent most of the morning stressing on the phone, talking to my banks and credit card companies. Luckily, the credit card company came through, and I was able to get the money that afternoon. Ernest was nice enough to tow our U-Haul trailer over to the Hotel so that we could have all of our stuff with us. While stressing on the phone, I had sipped the equivalent of two beers, so Paul gave me a lift on the Harley down to the one bank in town. I had to laugh to myself, here we were, two people (the guy, 6’ 4”, long dark hair down to his waist contrasted by 5’4” me) wearing black leather and carrying motorcycle helmets walking into this little bank. The guard went from sitting relaxed behind a desk, gabbing with one of the women, to standing about 5 feet behind us with his hands on his hips, watching our every move. Must have been the most excitement he’d had in six months! Color me crazy, but he probably thought we were going to hold up the joint!! Well, we did leave with $1800 in cash, but totally legit! We then went by Ernest’s garage to pay him and let him know everything was a go. He said he knew we wanted to get the truck fixed as fast as possible, so he’d get the old engine out and be ready when the new "but used" engine was delivered the next day. At this point, we had visions of driving off into the sunset the next day with a purring, healthy engine!

  We then happily headed off to Savanna on the Harley together. 

Had a great afternoon and evening, visited the Harley dealer and bought a little Harley hog wearing a black HD hat and jacket, enjoyed a late lunch/early dinner, then walked around checking out the shops along the river. We finally headed back well after dark, with Paul losing a contact out of his right eye (we looked but couldn’t find it…. go figure) and I froze my ass off, wishing I could climb beneath Paul’s jacket while on the bike. I was so cold I didn’t even see the large brown dog that Paul had to swerve around to avoid hitting when we were still 20 miles out from Eulonia. We made it back to the Hotel safely and went to bed, crossing our fingers that everything would go according to plan. (Monday night).

The next morning we got up all excited, thinking maybe we’d 

be back on the road that evening, headed home. NO SUCH LUCK!! First, the engine was late being delivered. Ernest said they had told him they’d deliver it sometime between 10:00 AM and 4:00 PM. So, realizing we were in for a wait and staying another night, we decided to do some laundry. Off we went with gym bags stuffed and bungied onto the bikes to the only laundromat in Eulonia. We loaded up the washers, then headed over to the local restaurant to get some lunch to go. I have to admit, I tried Key Lime Pie for the first time in my life on this trip, and this restaurant made it from scratch. It was awesome!! (The real stuff is yellow, NOT green!!) We finished our laundry and Paul went off to the town of Brunswick, south of us, to find a replacement contact. While he was gone, I got the call from Ernest. The 22,000-mile engine, once it finally got delivered, was the WRONG one! Didn’t fit! So, Ernest had to go back to the beginning and call around to find us another one. Which he did, but it was way off somewhere in a town I don’t even remember the name of and it would be late the next day before he got it. Paul got home with a new contact and I told him the sad news. We were both resigned to just getting the truck fixed and getting out of there, but using the time we had constructively. (Tuesday night).

So Wednesday morning we decided to go see the town 

of Brunswick together, which Paul said had a mall. Off we rode, only this time I was ready to ride the Harley myself and I enjoyed the heck out of it! One thing I did decide on this little jaunt was that I would wear a full-face helmet from now on or else get a windshield (maybe both). I got hit by some flying insect about the size of a June bug an inch and a half below my right eye, while I was going 55 MPH. Yow!! I had to touch my face to see if there was any blood, it hurt so bad! Chalk that one up to experience! We got to the mall and shopped for a while, then had lunch at Ruby Tuesday, and rode the horses on the carousel! Just had to get our pictures taken too - for a little levity - astride a totally different kind of horsepower. On our way out of Brunswick, we stopped to gas up the bikes. Paul had gotten something in his eye, the eye with the NEW contact, and boy was it ever red! While he went into the bathroom to try and get it out, I gassed up both bikes. A male customer came out of the store to get in his car and stared a while at me, then yelled over, “Hey, is that red one a Harley?” I said, “no, it’s a Yamaha Virago, but this one is a Harley.” He replied, “And the Harley’s yours, huh?” I said, “well, actually, they’re both mine!” His jaw dropped, and he exclaimed “Jesus Christ”, in a very southern accent, then shook his head and got in his car and drove off. That gave me a chuckle. Paul finally resolved his contact problem and we rode home. We found out the engine had been delivered, but Ernest estimated it would be the next evening before he got it all done and he didn’t know how many miles this one had on it. Paul went down to the video store and rented a video player and some movies, got us another pizza and some beer, and we proceeded to spend yet another evening in our hotel room in the small town of Eulonia. (Wednesday night).

 The next morning I waited till about 11:00 AM and 

called Ernest, just to see how things were going. Checkout was at 12:00 and we wanted to plan for whether we should checkout or not. He said it looked like he’d have it ready for a check-ride around 1:00 PM. YES!! So, we got all checked-out of the hotel, loaded up the trailer, and went down to our now favorite restaurant and had a nice long sit-down lunch - and of course - Key Lime Pie for dessert. When we showed up at the garage, Ernest was still fiddling with it. There appeared to be a problem with the transmission shifting at the RPMs it was supposed to. While we waited, we went ahead and took the bikes over to the car wash and washed them. By then, Ernest decided the truck was good enough to go home in. It was shifting high, but it was shifting. He suggested I take it in once I got it home and get the “passing cable” changed. So, we proceeded to get the bikes loaded up, the U-Haul hooked to the truck, and got on the road about 3:15 PM (Thursday). The truck’s temperature gage needle kept climbing to over half way once we got on the highway, so we stopped and checked the radiator and oil levels often. We decided we’d just take the trip slow and nurse the truck home. We were only getting about 55 MPH on the average before the truck would try to kick into overdrive, but hey, at least we were on our way!! We stopped for dinner, after about 330 miles, at a Cracker Barrel, at exit 95 in North Carolina. Just made it before they closed at ten and here we’d always thought they were a 24 hr joint!! Then, we gassed up, checked and added oil, which was 2 quarts low already, and got back on the road. I had gone about 22 miles, when the engine started smoking (Paul saw it first and here I was driving) and then I noticed the temp gage was in the red! Holy smokes! (no pun intended). I pulled over just as the engine quit. Smoke was pouring out from under the hood and both of us were cussing. We let it cool down, then Paul opened up the hood and looked to see what was up. It appeared we had lost all of the radiator fluid from a broken/torn hose under the engine.

AAA got another call from me (Thank God for cell 

phones!-but back then we didn't have GPS) at 11:00 PM and 352 miles from Eulonia. I told the guy where I believed we were since there were no exits in sight. The only way I could explain it was that we had stopped at exit 95 and I estimated I had gone 22 miles North. Well, chalk this up to experience - don’t EVER think AAA has things under control if you call at shift change!! I called them back again shortly after midnight to see what was up since no tow truck had arrived yet. The lady on the phone said my order had been canceled because the tow truck driver couldn’t find me. WHOA!! While Paul is wanting my cell phone so that he can verbally kick someone’s ass, I’m trying to patiently get out of her where it was they showed me located. She replies…”Why… the computer says Exit 95”. Yikes! I then knew what the problem was and explained to her just what I had told her co-worker. So, she established a new call order and said to call her back in 15 minutes and she’d let me know when a tow truck would be there. When I called her back, she said she was still trying to get hold of someone, but it shouldn’t be longer than 45 minutes. It was actually only 30 minutes when our Knight in shining Armor, Edward, showed up in his red tow truck. I got out to greet him, letting him know I was verrry happy to see him. He started laughing and said, “yep, AAA screwed up again, they do it all the time. The lady, who called me, told me where I needed to go, then added, “and you need to get there FAST!” Paul got out of the truck, Edward took one look at him and commented very matter of factly, “You look like you need to get drunk!” Paul was definitely a wannabe at that point. I grabbed some stuff out of the trailer to take with us to a hotel, including a couple cold beers out of the cooler. Edward hooked up to my truck, suggested we ride in his truck with him since it was warmer, and proceeded to tow us to the town of Wilson, North Carolina .…….U-Haul trailer, bikes and all! I had already mentioned I had a Harley in the trailer and was concerned about it and he agreed that it wouldn’t be a good idea to leave the trailer behind on the Highway. He towed the truck and trailer to the Chevy dealer, whom he worked for, did up the paperwork for what was wrong with the truck, and took us to the Best Western, advising us to call at check-out time and someone would come over and pick us up. What a sweetheart!! (Tipped him $20 but on retrospect, should have been more!) (FRIDAY MORNING)

We got to bed about 3:00 AM, after having the 

two beers I’d brought with us. I gently woke Paul up at about 10:00 so that he’d have time to take a long shower before checkout time at 11:00. Then, we called the dealer and they said they’d send somebody right over to get us. Debra, one of the gals who worked in the office, showed up in about 15 minutes, all cheery! Once we got to the Chevy dealer, they told us the news. Said they’d replaced the radiator hose and fitting, but there was water pouring out the tail pipe when the engine was running. They were pretty sure we would be able to drive it as far as the Dodge dealer, because that was who would be able to work on it. Probably needed a new head, they said. We went out to the truck, after paying for the work done, and couldn’t even get it to turn over. After one of the employees tried, unsuccessfully, to jump-start it, we went back inside and called the dodge dealer and asked them to come get it. Meanwhile, we talked with Debra and she said she’d take us over to the Ryder truck folks, whom she knew would give us a great deal and we could tow the U-haul home with a Ryder truck. That worked out great, we met yet another Knight in Shining Armor, Charles Zaccari, who ran the West Nash Exxon Service Center. He rented us a 15 ‘ Ryder truck, giving us a military discount (YAY!). We took it back to the Chevy dealer, loaded the bikes, and hooked up the trailer. We finally got on the road, after stopping by the Dodge dealer and filling out the necessary paperwork and getting their phone number for later. This was about 4:00 PM. We had dinner at about 6:00 at a Denny’s, then kept heading home, FINALLY getting in that Friday night at around 9:30! We were beat! (HOME..YAY)

Saturday, Paul had to work, so I turned in the
U-haul trailer, keeping the Harley in the Ryder truck. He met me later that afternoon at the Ryder place on the Virago where we settled that bill, then rode both bikes home, stopping at a co-worker’s house to pick up my plane tickets. Phew!! The next morning he took me to the airport… I had a business trip for the Air Force. I had to fly down to Savannah (of all places) and drive up to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina for a week long conference. The good thing was that I was getting paid to do this and the Air Force paid for the rental car. Even better, the hotel we stayed in and also where the conference was held, was just short of awesome! I had a suite, with two floors. Downstairs was the kitchen, dining area, and living room, with a bathroom and upstairs was a loft style bedroom with another bathroom. TVs with pay for view on both floors. Doesn’t get much better. I tell you what, that really helped me relax after all we’d been through. I just wish Paul could have been there to share it with me. When I told him about it, he exclaimed… “Why couldn’t we have gotten that when we were stuck in Eulonia!!” I very much agreed! But that’s life!

The next week I was home and what a great
feeling! If I’d had my truck I would have felt even better. Monday they decided the truck needed a new head, which didn’t get delivered until Thursday morning. They really didn’t start putting it together until the following week, and to make a long story just a little shorter, it was on a Wednesday night, after work, that I headed down toward Wilson, North Carolina, in a rental car, to get my truck. I was already tired by the time I hit the road, so only drove 175 miles before calling it quits and getting a hotel room. I had taken the next day off as leave. The next morning, I had another 50 miles to go, which went by fast, and I was able to pick up the truck just after lunch. This time, I drove it home all the way, just stopping for a late lunch, and the truck seemed to drive fine, (although it was still shifting high). Paul wanted to borrow the truck the next day, Friday, to go up to Pennsylvania to get his daughter Caitlin, for the weekend (3 hr drive each way). He was also going to load up the truck with stuff that he had in storage. I had a really bad day, full of suspenses that had to be met and hot issues, so I arrived home late…very tired. Paul had left several messages on the answering machine, the last one at about 6:30 PM, saying, there’s trouble with the truck. He was at his mom’s house. I called him right away, this being about 7:00 PM, and he said “the truck is spraying oil out of the head gasket and shouldn’t be driven until it’s fixed!!” I was upset, but he was livid, I could tell over the phone. He wanted me to drive his ‘76 Cutlass halfway to come pick him up in PA and his brother would drive him to meet me. It was raining cats and dogs, I was exhausted and had to tell him so. His cantankerous car and I didn’t get along to start with, and I knew he needed new windshield wiper blades. It was a disaster waiting to happen. I told him I needed a good nights sleep, then I would get up early, go rent a car, and come get him in PA, where we would then call AAA and have them tow the car to a Dodge dealer, and hopefully all this would be covered under warranty.

So, Paul spent the night in PA at his Mom’s 

house and I came up the next day. Once again, we left the truck with a dealer, giving them the details as well as the receipt from the most recent work done down in North Carolina, then we drove home, after taking his daughter Caitlin and her cousin to a movie and dinner…. this time she wouldn’t be coming down to spend the weekend…it was already almost over. As it turned out, the Dodge dealer in PA was convinced that I had a more serious problem than just the gasket leaking. He thought I had a cracked block since there was coolant in all 4 cylinders! HUH?!! I called the dealer in North Carolina and he assured me they would work with the PA guys and straighten it all out. Nope!! Didn’t happen! The PA guys weren’t willing to deal unless they had a blank check up front to make sure they got paid. The NC guys weren’t willing to send a blank check, they wanted to know what was wrong and would pay as the truck was worked. There appeared to be no middle ground and all the NC guys could say was that they’d fix it if I towed it down to them. We were talking 500 miles!! That is when I gave up!!! THAT.WAS IT! I decided enough was enough, and the truck was going to charity!! I told Paul I would just buy a used car with the little money I had left from selling a bunch of mutual funds. I had to go away on business again, this time to Las Vegas, so I gave him the money and asked him to find me something in good, driveable condition, if possible, while I was gone. Once again, he drove me to the airport and I headed off to the city that never sleeps! I only gambled one night though, losing $60 because I knew that there was little chance hitting it big after all the bad luck we’d had lately. I was right, there was more to come!!! When I got into D.C., Paul picked me up and brought me home, telling me he’d looked and looked but couldn’t find anything within my price range that was worth buying. I soon found out he was pulling my leg though, cause when we pulled into the driveway, there sat a little silver station wagon. An ‘83 Toyota Cressida. It was in really great condition, inside and out and had power everything, plus cruise and AC, oh, and a trailer hitch on the back for pulling stuff. I was real excited. We had to get it inspected and registered, but I had to work, so Paul traded cars with me and got it inspected on his next day off. It only needed new front rotors and two new tires. We had to order the rotors, which came in by Friday night. We both had the first three days of the next week off, so I decided to get the car finished up that Monday morning, getting the license plate and tags taken care of. I also wanted to get the transmission checked, but Paul wanted to go up to PA, picking up a U-haul trailer on the way, and get the stuff out of storage, like he had tried to do a couple weeks back. I told him then that I didn’t have a good feeling about pulling a trailer behind the “new to us” car until I’d gotten a clean bill of health on it, but went along with it because he was real urgent about the whole thing. Well, about 10 miles after picking up the U-haul trailer, the transmission gave out. We dialed AAA for about the fourth time in two months!! The gal, who picked us up, took us to the AAMCO in Baltimore, U-Haul trailer and all. After checking it out, AAMCO told us that it would be a complete rebuild, running about $1450! (That was what we paid for the car!) Oh well, off to the rental car company again, and we continued on to PA since Paul had promised some friends he’d stop by and see them, plus it was close to XMAS and we had presents to drop off.

To close, the Cressida is running great now,
new transmission and all. Hindsight over our whole adventure is a wickedly sharp 20/20! I never should have agreed to putting a used engine in the truck, I should have had it towed to a dealer and got a new one with a warranty. We probably should have turned around and gone back to Eulonia when the truck was still acting funny, rather than pressing ahead. I now have AAA repeat what I tell them to make sure they really know where I am broken down at. We should have gotten a Ryder truck at the first breakdown to get the bikes and our stuff home. Or, even better, we should have just rode the bikes to Daytona!!! But then, that would have been a whole new story. I’ve got to say two last things. Through all the mess, Paul and I never blamed each other nor did we resort to losing our tempers and fighting. In fact, we grew closer together and supported each other, making the most of all the time we had alone. Also, on our trip we met some real losers, but a lot more winners, great people who were ready to help even though they didn’t know us. I sure do thank them for that. They are heroes of humanity in my book!!