Hung out in the morning with Brew-daug and got to check out some of what Myrtle had to offer, Also took advantage of the beach to dip my toes in the Atlantic.

Mr Brew was then good enough to escort me back to the main road, and it was clear that he would have been good to come a thousand or two miles further.

Getting into the miles now, stopped off to check out the Laurel and Hardy Museum in Harlem Georga, but sadly when I got there it was closed. Since I am still getting set into the bike I am OK with that, gives me more time to eat up the asphalt.

So you know that gas gauge problem I mentioned, funny story I got some crappy fas and instead of my usual 250 to a tank, I crapped out with something like 130 miles into the tank. Luckily I had a nice deck chair with me, so I set it up down the embankment and called for fuel.
Funny story number 2, between the GPS to report my location and the hazard lights, when the guy showed up with the fuel there was not enough power left in the bapper to turn it over. The towtruck guy as only called out for fuel, so he had not charped up his jump start box. So back down the embankment with the sweet smell of roadkill and I waited for the flatbed.

This is were I got to understand why copes are referred to as the … finest. I got to meet Opelika’s finest, from the office who picked me up and made sure I got to a good hotel at a good rate. To the cops who ran by the bike dealer the bapper was dropped to for service, through the guy who picked me up the next morning so I could go pickup the bike and get a new battery.

It is still early days on this trip but I am already fascinated by the experience of just meeting people, there is something about being on a bike loaded down like Beverly Hillbillies that makes people open up to you. One of the officers was telling me about the big trip he wanted to take, a bike is just a great way to meet people. Toes are good, other parts are sore a lot more miles to go but another solid performance today with 450.