Before leaving the Conch Republic, we had to get the obligatory ‘Southernmost Point’ pictures. We weaseled our way to the front of the long line of other tourists by telling people we’d ridden all the way from California – which was technically true, though we had a month off in between that we neglected to mention.

Southernmost Bikes in the Continental U.S.A.

In any case, we got the shot, then rolled for one more obligatory picture before starting the long, dull, straight, boring slog back to Miami.

Route One ends in Key West, but for some strange reason, the official ‘Mile Zero’ sign is at an intersection in the middle of the city, instead of at the true end of the road. We almost rode past the sign, expecting the end of the road to be at, well, the end of the road. On the ride to the sign, I jinxed myself by thinking how dependable my Yamaha has been since I bought it a year ago. Almost 12,000 miles and zero problems – until, fittingly, we got to the end of the road.

Right after this shot, I tried to start the bike, and heard a muffled ‘dit‘. What the? I hit the starter again. ‘Dit.’ The instruments went dark, and nothing happened. ‘Dit.’ I pushed the bike off the sidewalk, and started removing body panels to get to the battery.

‘Dit.’ Battery terminals were tight, no fuses were blown. Nothing should have been wrong. ‘Dit.’ But yet, the battery was -‘Dit dit dit‘- dead. Abi and Fiona had to push me down past the end of the road so I could dump the clutch and get the bike running.

For the remainder of the trip, the ‘dit‘ problem never reoccurred.

Miami came up quickly and uneventfully, Fiona made her flight quickly and uneventfully, and the work week quickly and uneventfully began once again.

The rest of the trip consisted of working, riding, paying tolls to ride on straight roads, working more, riding more, paying more tolls, and finally, at 2 AM Tuesday night, returning the bikes to Orlando, where they’ll wait for Daytona Bike Week – the first week of March, and of course Wrestlemaina 24 at the Citrus Bowl on March 31st.

Then it’s off to the Northernmost, Easternmost and Westernmost points in the Continental U.S.A. – as well as Nova Scotai (finally) and Scotland.

Six Days – 1104 miles – A Great End to a Great Year of Riding

Author: frenchy