Gulf Coast Post

Day 60: Bradley, a friend who lives near Mobile, Alabama has invited me to visit on several occasions. He was on my path, so stayed a couple of nights. He’s got two beautiful and fun females to keep him company: one human and one canine. Misty, his girlfriend, and I had an afternoon to ourselves, so she took me on a walking tour where I told her about Tinder. That led us to sitting at a bar and swiping through the local dudes while she dished the small town dirt and had some loud laughs.

Party animals.
Party animals.

Back at the house, Penny, his bull terrier/pitbull mix, and I got our snuggle on whenever we were alone. She also loves sticks, squeaky toys and pooping wherever a motorcycle could slip on it. (FORESHADOWING!) Misty warned me that the front yard was a minefield. I knew I should have maneuvered through it without all of my luggage strapped down, but Betty Badass had to do it the dumb way: around the truck, through some poop, over tree roots, aaand the bike went down on the left side. My suit and luggage were lucky in avoiding any scented stains.


Friends, you can take your time to do things the slow and smart way the first time, or you can rush it, make a mess (literally), clean it up, and then do it right. Off came the suit, the tank bag, rear waterproof bag and right case. I tried to pick up the bike as instructed using the technique I’ve been taught, but ended up slipping in another dook. Thankfully, Bradley’s neighbor was home and more than happy to help me get the bike upright.

The chain felt a little loose, so I dropped by Motorsport Freaks, told them about my spill and my trip so far, they adjusted my chain tension, noticed my left mirror was loose, so they tightened that up and sent me on my way.

I needed some beach time: either Biloxi or Pensacola. After weighing out the pros and cons of each, I decided to backtrack 75 miles to the prettier beach where I could wander around Fort Pickens, camp at a state park, and splash around in turquoise water.





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