On the phone, I had talked to Thomas our younger son about doing
a motorcycle ride. He said that it was
time to start riding his motorcycle to school.
He is on spring break from his Public History Master’s Program at
Middle Tennessee State University, he still had to go down to campus in Murphysboro
to work on an Archival Project. So I
said it’s a date. He is so busy lately
that we don’t see him much. So a 70-mile motorcycle ride together to the Boro was
in order.
Jumping on Interstate 24 a mile near my house at 9:30 in the
morning was invigorating with the dew in the air and the temperature yet to
break 50 degrees. I wanted to get to Thomas house at 5 points in
East Nashville as quickly as possible. The 103 cubic inches of my Electra Glide Classic
ate the road in less than 40 minutes.
Thomas was getting ready to go when I arrived. His dog Addie went crazy with excitement upon
my arrival. You have to understand, Addie and I have a history. A history of her staying with us for 9 months
while Thomas was in Afghanistan; her getting loose, then being chased around
our neighborhood will leave us bonded until the end of eternity.
After Thomas 919 Honda Sports Bike came to life with the hum
of the well-oiled machine, we were off.
We decided to ride the old Dixie Nashville Highway to the Stones River
Civil War Battlefield in Murphysboro.
To get to the Highway we had to go by the Airport on Interstate 40 by way of
Briley Parkway. The road was uneventful
but fun to follow Thomas as he easily glided his bike from turn to turn. This is the same road taken by union troops during
their assault on Murphysboro.
Right before we arrived at the battlefield we pasted the Lao Buddhist
Temple; to me it was an eerie feeling having a place of peace so close to a
place of so much death and destruction.
Once at the Battlefield it was a short tour of the visitor center, then
Thomas was off to his archival work. Stones River, 76,000 engaged in battle from 31 December 1862 until 2 January 1863. One-third of those engaged, over 24,000 were casualties. 3,000 were killed in those 3 days; with engagements called the ‘Slaughter Pen” and "Hell’s Half-Acre" it ensured the union's control of middle Tennessee for the remainder of the war.
After the battlefield, I decided to take TN-96 west to
Franklin, then north to Whites Bluff skirting the southern and western
outskirts of Nashville. The ride through this countryside evolved coming across a series of large country farms
and ranches, one after the other; my
imagination raced to think of what country star lived in that house or the
next. Spring has yet to arrive the trees are still
bare and the grass has yet to green, but there is a feeling in the air that it isn't
far off.
In Whites Bluff, we stopped at a nondescript Mexican Restaurant with worn menus. I eat Pork Chili Verde outside in the warm winter air. The rest of the ride is familiar territory, TN-47 then TN-250 to Ashland City across the Cumberland River. The last road to Clarksville is Highway 12
along the Cumberland. The curves of these
roads are now second nature to me. Like scars of old wounds, these roads roll beneath
my feet.
