Tail of the Dragon: Harley Woman: Tales from the Open Road

By R.M. Singhose

Deep in the Great Smoky Mountains between Tennessee and North Carolina, there is a road that is a legend among motorcyclists. This road contains an eleven-mile stretch of some of the most incredible curves in the United States: three hundred eighteen curves, to be exact. Three hundred eighteen breathtaking, eyeball bugging, white knuckle, hairpin curves. Of course, the best way to ride this road is at a fast pace, taking the curves on the wrong side, dodging the traffic coming to meet you.

Tail of the Dragon is a true story of the authors journey on her Harley-Davidson, riding alongside her husband from Oregon to the Great Smoky Mountains, finally encountering the infamous Tail Of The Dragon. The fourth book in the series Harley Woman: Tales From The Open Road, this is a fascinating memoir that will delight armchair travelers and motorcycle enthusiasts everywhere.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jun 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532022241

R.M. Singhose

R.M. Singhose was first introduced to the Harley-Davidson culture in 1966. Her husband, Jim, began riding in 1952. Since retirement they have ridden over 100,000 miles across North America, camping and meeting fascinating people. Everything in her books is based on her daily road journal. She likes to say, “These stories are so crazy, I couldn’t make them up if I tried.”

Book preview

TAIL OF THE

DRAGON

BOOK FOUR IN THE SERIES

HARLEY WOMAN:

TALES FROM THE OPEN ROAD

R.M. SINGHOSE

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TAIL OF THE DRAGON

BOOK FOUR IN THE SERIES

HARLEY WOMAN: TALES FROM THE OPEN ROAD

Copyright © 2017 R.M. Singhose.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

iUniverse

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-2225-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-2224-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017909794

iUniverse rev. date: 06/24/2017

CONTENTS

Dedication

Preface

They’re Out To Get Us

Mom?

Rise & Shine

Chicken Bone?

Stuck In Idaho

It’s Always Nice After A Big Storm

Windy Rivers & Rattlesnakes

Smoked Oats

Too Weird For Comfort

Is That The Chattanooga Choo Choo?

This Way, That Way, & The Other Way

Stay Still You Blankety Blank Bird!

Fermentation 101

Wake Up Sleepy Head

Welcome To Dollywood

The Tail Of The Dragon

More Music Than You Shake A Stick At

Blue Skies

Bugs At Our Door

Gas Money Home

The Fog

Labor Day

Never Did See Any Black Snakes

Devils Rope

Hold On To Your Hats

We Are So Outta Here

John Wayne

Parking Nazi

Danger In The Mountains

Guy Vs. Girly

Highs And Lows

Piston Slap?

The Last Day

Other Books By This Author

About The Author

DEDICATION

At the beginning of every book there is a dedication page wherein the author thanks the editors, publishers, family and friends, for their support and encouragement. While I am grateful to all of these there is one person in particular who rates a huge Thank You.

Years ago when I complained that I didn’t have a good leg to stand on and it wasn’t safe for me to ride on two wheels this guy convinced me to try riding a trike.

He just happened to know of one for sale. He pulled a picture out of his wallet to show me the bike that was less than a mile away from where we were standing.

One look and I knew that bike was meant for me. It had beautiful blue roses painted on the tank and fenders.

My gosh, I told Big Jim, this bike has my name all over it! I have to have it.

I bought that bike and started a journey in my life that has taken me over hundreds of thousands of miles and resulted in this fourth book of cross-country adventures.

A huge, heartfelt thank you goes to BIG JIM MATHEWS. I may not say it as often as I should but your encouragement has always meant a lot to me.

(I’m sorry to say I was unable to complete this book before Big Jim lost his battle with cancer. His memory will be with us as we continue our journeys.)

Rose Mary

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ROSE ON PURPLE TRIKE

PREFACE

May 2005

It had been two years since our last cross-country tour when we rode our Harleys from Oregon to Prince Edward Island in Canada. Jim and I were both antsy as all get out to hit the pavement again. We were more than ready for new sights, new people and new adventures. Oh sure, we’d been on lots of short rides and campouts with our friends but the lure of the unknown highway was beckoning. Every book and magazine article about some far away place was reaching out to our sense of adventure.

The journey to follow was inevitable.

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ROSE & JIM

THEY’RE OUT TO GET US

What do you want for your birthday this year? I was sitting in my blue rocking chair across the room from Jim who was reading a motorcycle magazine.

Rain was dripping out of a grey Oregon sky. A warm fire was crackling in the fireplace, keeping the damp chill at bay.

Our old mantle clock was ticking the minutes away. Tick, tock, tick, tock.

I want to tour the Great Smoky Mountains on our motorcycles. Read this Rosie. Jim got out of his chair to bring me the magazine. It was folded over to a story about riding that area.

I began reading the story and looking at the beautiful pictures that were included. By the time I got to the part about an incredible stretch of road called The Tail of the Dragon, I was hooked.

I looked up from the magazine with a wide smile on my face, my green eyes glowing. Let’s do it! How soon do you want to leave?

Go get the calendar and we’ll figure it out. Jim took the magazine from me, returning to his easy chair.

I eagerly hurried to my office where I sat at my desk to do a quick review of what we had going on this summer. I returned to the living room with a downcast look on my face.

What’s the matter, Rosie? Jim looked up at me with a puzzled frown.

I stood over him with the calendar in my hand. We have that road run in July for our old farts club (Oregon Trail Chapter of Antique Motorcyclists of America); then we have the big steam up and swap meet at Brooks. We’ve already paid for vendor space. After that, we are going to Salem for the ride and campout with Michael and Suzi. We can’t miss that.

Jim reached up to take the calendar from me. He began studying all the things I had scheduled over the next two months.

He put his finger on August sixteenth; We can leave Oregon right after the camp out. That would put us on the road by the middle of August. Write it on the calendar right now.

I’ll put it on there in big bold print with permanent marker. I hurried back to my office to do just that.

When I returned to the living room, I had a legal sized pad of notepaper in my hand. I curled up in my rocking chair; my pen began racing across the page.

Jim raised his eyes over his big road Atlas to peer at me. He keeps the atlas next to his chair so he can grab it quickly. Reading that thing is nearly a daily ritual with him. What are you doing?

I’m working on our trip. There is so much stuff we have to take with us, I’m not so likely to forget things if I make a list. I continued scribbling without looking up.

Leaving home the middle of August ensured the fact that we would be experiencing both summer and winter weather before we made it back to Oregon. It would be necessary to pack cool clothes, hot clothes and in between clothes. We would need a lightweight blanket in case it was too hot for a sleeping bag or too cold for just a sleeping bag. An air mattress could not be left behind; no sleeping on rocks for these two old riders.

I gazed up at our ticking clock. The sound reminding me time was wasting. I stopped writing to think over my list. The wheels of thought were churning as I remembered past journeys and the items I’d forgotten when we took them. I picked up my pen to continue.

I didn’t want to forget our little heater/fan along with a hundred-foot drop cord to run it.

Our supply of alcohol cans for our collapsible cook stove needed replenishing. The list went on and on.

Jim put his map down. He stood up, stretched and walked over to see what I’d been writing.

You’re getting carried away again, Rosie. Do we really need all that stuff?

You will be glad it’s there when we need it. I won’t bring so many clothes this time. I know I always put in too many t-shirts. Oh, I almost forgot to write down our camping lantern and we’ve gotta have matches. I went back to my list.

Jim laughed at me, running his hand down my cheek. I’m going out to the shop. There’s something I want to check on my bike.

We wouldn’t be leaving home for two months but we were darn near ready to go by the first week in June.

The rest of June and July we were so busy we were meeting ourselves coming and going. Sandwiched in between bike runs and swap meets we had a constant stream of problems with our rentals.

I guess I should mention here that we are biker/slum lords. At least that is how we introduce ourselves to new, prospective tenants. We make sure they know that our rides take first place in our priorities and the rentals come second. We do have someone to watch over things in case there is an emergency, but the little things have to wait until we get home.

First, we had a vacancy in one of our apartments in Drain. We walked in the door to find a total disaster area. Every day for over two weeks was spent working on that apartment. The whole place had to be scrubbed down and disinfected. All the carpets were caked with filth. There was a huge rip in the living room carpet; all the rooms reeked with cat urine. There was nothing else to do but rip up the carpet to be replaced with new.

Large punch holes in the walls made it necessary to put paneling up in the kitchen and one of the bedrooms. The tile needed to be replaced in both the kitchen and bathroom floors due to leaky plumbing that had curled the tile and rotted the floors. Jim had to cut out part of the bathroom floor with his chain saw and splice in new floor joists to keep the toilet from falling through the floor. What a job all that was! If only people would let us know when a repair was needed. One phone call could have saved us days of hard work.

Our next little goodie was a well gone bad at another rental. After years of good and plentiful water the tenants were running out. It took several days and a whole lot of digging through gravel with a pick and shovel before we found out there was a small break in the line leading to the pressure tank. That small break was just big enough to make trouble.

For a time we thought we were going to have to hook up to city water. The tenants didn’t want that and we sure as heck didn’t want the thirty-five hundred dollar bill that would have entailed. We were mightily relieved to find hooking up to the city water supply wasn’t going to be necessary.

A week before we were to leave home we got a call that the plumbing was backed up at two apartments in Drain.

Poor Jim got to crawl under the place and saw out pipes to find the clog. It turned out some dummy had tried to flush a disposable diaper down the toilet and it had clogged the mainline. When I confronted the only tenant with a small child, I was met with utter astonishment. But, the box says they’re disposable!

God, save me from new mothers, I thought while I patiently explained to her that disposable did not mean flushing them down the toilet.

That night Jim and I lay in bed talking about the last two months.

It’s like somebody up there doesn’t want us to go on this trip. I lamented.

I don’t know about that but I do know we need to leave home just to rest up. Jim turned on the TV while reaching for my hand. We held hands watching a no brainer show; both too tired to sleep.

I rolled over to face Jim. I get so nervous just before we leave. I just know something is going to happen to keep us here.

Oh no, it’s not. We’re leaving here next Monday. Jim said that with such finality, I actually believed him.

Sunday I called my Mom to make sure she was doing ok. Mom had turned ninety last December. I hated to be going so far away from her but everything was fine with her. My brothers all live near her, they were fine too and said not to worry about Mom. Ok.

I called the kids. Everything was fine there too. Now I’m really getting nervous.

Our bikes are packed and ready to roll. We are only going to ride three hours to Alfalfa so we don’t need to get up too early. Jim pulled his t-shirt off and climbed into bed beside me.

We’re not going to be able to sleep anyway; we never do the night before we get out of here. I said with resignation.

I know. Maybe we shouldn’t answer the phone now. We’ll just make like we’ve already gone. Jim reached up to turn off the light.

AUGUST 15, 2005

MOM?

I hear someone in the house, I whispered to Jim.

He opened his eyes to see the sun was just coming up. It sounds like Tom. What does he want so early in the morning?

Tom? Is that you? What’s the matter? I called out in trepidation.

Can I come in Mom? Our son was outside our bedroom door. His voice came out like a bullfrogs croak.

Come on. I knew in my heart this was it. We wouldn’t be leaving today after all.

He came into our room looking like something the cat dragged in. One hand was covering his right ear. He grimaced when he tried to speak.

I’ve got a terrible ear ache and a sore throat. Will you take the twins to swim class today for me?

We’re supposed to leave today but we’re only going as far as Bend so I guess so. You’d better go back to bed. I’ll call the Dr. and see if you can get in to see him this morning.

Tom went out to his fifth wheel trailer to try to get some sleep. I reluctantly crawled out of bed to begin my soon to be hectic day.

The minute it turned nine o’clock I called his Dr. and got him a 2:45 appointment. Then I made our breakfast and hurried off to take the twins to their swim class.

I sat next to the chlorinated pool, sniffing up the chemicals that I’m allergic to all the while admiring our little fish learning how to keep from drowning. We live in an area between two lakes and near the river. There are also multiple swimming holes in a myriad of streams near by. It was important that those kids learned to be good swimmers.

I got back with the twins by noon, fed them some tuna sandwiches and went to check on their Dad.

Tom was in pretty bad shape. I didn’t see how he could drive himself to the Doctor.

Jim was out in the shop making some last minute adjustments to his bike.

I reluctantly approached, I’m going to have to take Tom to the Dr. this afternoon. I can’t see him driving as bad as he feels.

We’re leaving here today, Rosie. Jim stated firmly not looking up from his bike.

I know but, how the heck can we leave here with him so sick? I held out my hands in frustration.

Take him to the Dr. We can go over the pass this evening.

Ok, I’m going to run down to the store and get him some things to help his sore throat. I’ll be right back.

I grabbed up the twins and we headed for the store where I bought a care package for our son; throat lozenges, ice cream, and lots of soup. A few candy bars fell into my basket along the way and we hurried home.

Jim was still out in the shop when I returned. What the heck is he doing to his bike? I wondered.

The twins helped me carry the groceries into the house. Then I sent them out to their Dad’s to take him some of the medicine I’d bought for him.

DON’T ANSWER THAT PHONE!

I noticed the message light blinking on our phone. Do I dare punch that button?

I couldn’t stand not knowing who was on there so … I punched the button.

I was greeted with the worried voice of one of our tenants in Drain.

Rose? We’ve got a little problem here at apartment number three. Call me, will you?

The very last thing in the world I wanted to do just then was to call those people back but I did the right thing and dialed her number.

What’s going on? I asked when she picked up on the first ring.

Well … she hesitated. It was more than obvious she did not want to tell me what the problem was. Our son was working on his ATV out here in front of the apartment and he had a little problem with it.

Hoping my impatience wasn’t showing too much I prodded her to tell me why that had anything to do with me. Does he need to talk to Jim?

No, well, I guess we do need Jim to come down here.

We’re leaving here today. What do you need? My patience was fast becoming very thin.

Well … our son was working on his ATV.

OK, already, I got that part.

"He kind of forgot that it was in gear, you know?"

No, I don’t know. OoooooKay???

Well, he was standing alongside it and punched the starter. It took off, went up the side of the apartment and right through that big six foot window in the front. Finally, she got out what the problem was.

Was anybody hurt? I asked in resignation.

Oh no, just the window. Now that she’d gotten over the hard part of telling me about the ATV her voice was noticeably brighter.

I’ll go tell Jim. He’ll be there soon.

I hurried out to the shop to tell Jim what was going on.

He stood there looking at me like I had a hole in my head.

They did what?

The kid in number three put his ATV through the front window on the apartment. We don’t have any more of those big windows. You’ll have to go to Junction City to get one. I looked down at the ground, There’s no way we can leave here today.

Jim looked down on me, his eyebrows furrowed into a black frown. We are leaving here today, he growled. You take Tom to the Dr. and I’ll take care of Drain.

We got lucky at the Dr.’s and Tom got in right at 2:45. He had strep throat and an ear infection. We picked up a prescription for antibiotics and got back home by 3:30. I got him settled with his kids and some movies. Gave hugs all around, being careful not to breathe too much of Tom’s air, and said our goodbyes.

I hurried out to the bike shop where Jim was standing in the open door putting on his chaps. Let’s go Rosie, daylights burning. I do not want you going back to the house, you can pee out here in the shop. He was not taking any chances that there would be any more phone messages to delay us.

How did you fix the window? I asked him as I tied my hair on top my head to keep it from tangling in the wind.

Without looking up from zipping his chaps he told me, I took up a full sheet of plywood. The kid that put the ATV through the window helped me hold it up while I screwed it over the hole. Then I threw my tools into the pickup and told them, See ya in October. I was back here an hour ago.

I stopped what I was doing to look at him incredulously, You didn’t!

Oh yes I did. It was their kid that broke it. By rights they should fix the window. He grabbed his jacket out of the locker.

Do you want to take bets on that big hole being there waiting for you when we get back? I was laughing so hard I had a hard time finishing with my hair.

Hurry and get on your bike Rosie. We gotta get out of here before anything else goes wrong. Jim pushed his bike out of the shop and drew down the big door to lock it.

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LEAVING HOME

By this time it was four o’clock and we were in the middle of rush hour traffic. It appeared that everyone and his cousin was heading for Bend. If that wasn’t bad enough, we got caught behind some big trucks hauling long cement bridge beams. We rode over the pass at the breakneck pace of less than ten miles per hour.

Oh man, this is a far cry from the sixty and seventy mph we usually boogie over this pass. What a bummer!

What should have been an easy three-hour trip took us over four. We finally arrived at Jim’s younger brother’s home at a quarter past eight that evening.

We walked in the door to find they were babysitting all five of their young grandchildren. Kids were everywhere. They were diving over the back of the couch Jim and I were sitting on and running circles through the house; whooping and giggling as they flew by.

I was very much relieved to find they had a big pile of cushions on the floor behind the couch to break their fall. The first child leaping over the back of the couch with a wild banshee yell had me drawing in my breath in surprise.

Amazingly our sister-in-law, Susan, soon had them settled down into sleeping bags across the floor and everyone nodded off to sleep. I hadn’t thought