Virginia , North Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi , Louisiana, Texas, USA

November 6-11

We left on Sunday morning, our watches saying 9:23 a.m. and the odometer on the Guzzi displaying 6060 miles. After goodbyes from our families, we headed south on Interstate 81 towards North Carolina, the Guzzi burdened down like Jed Clampett's truck. We made good time along the interstate until a wreck on I-77 in North Carolina routed us onto back roads. It was dark by the time we stopped at Holly's aunt and uncle's home, in Casar, where we spent Sunday night.

On Monday, we headed to Birmingham . The bulb that illuminates the Guzzi's speedometer went out on Sunday morning, so we stopped at a dealer Atlanta . They were closed. We continued on to Alabama , staying the night in the Oak Mountain State Park , where many of the camping spots were filled with the trailers of those displaced by Hurricane Katrina. I pulled the motorcycle up a trail from the parking lot so that we could keep it by the tent. We started a fire with downed limbs scrounged from the surrounding area. Many of the people who walked by stared at us, two tourists having fun while they wait to see what will be left of their lives.

In the morning we continued west on Interstate 20. The interstate highway system in the U.S. seems as if the departments of transportation in every state shop for trees at the same nursery. A mix of oaks and pines blocked the view along the sides of the road and in the median, making the landscape feel the same even if it's changing. As we headed south, the hills of Virginia passed into the hills of North Carolina into the hills of Georgia . Every town has a Sheetz. Every town has a Cracker Barrel. Interstate driving is a sampling of the best of homogenized America .

From a North Carolina Harley passenger to a Mississippi state trooper who stopped to talk at a gas station, our loaded down motorcycle draws attention and the question, “Where are you going?” “You can't drive to Argentina can you?” the trooper asked us when we told him. He was laughing and shaking his head as he pulled away.

On Tuesday night we stopped in Shreveport on the border of Louisiana and Texas . The next morning, attempting to add air to the motorcycle tires took us an hour as we tried to find a gas station pump that worked or one that would give more than 30 pounds of pressure. Just inside Texas , we detoured off Interstate 20, which had brought us from Atlanta , and took Texas Highway 79, a two lane road directly to Austin . Off the interstate the scenery began to change and for the first time we felt like we were traveling. We were greeted by the Texan custom of drivers pulling onto the shoulder to let you pass on two-lane roads, even in zones marked for passing. About 50 miles out of Austin , Texas started to look like Texas , with mesquite bushes and cattle ranches lining the road.

We spent two nights in Austin , staying with Holly's great uncles. On Thursday we used most of the day running errands, including purchasing auto insurance for Mexico and making a final stop at Wal-Mart in preparation for our border crossing. We also made several stops looking for the Guzzi bulb, all without luck.

On the U.S. leg of the trip the Guzzi plodded along without complaints, giving gas mileage between 35 and 40 miles per gallon. On the first day the zipper on the Tourmaster tank bag began to rip where it mounts to the tank. We looked for a replacement at dealerships along the way without success and planned to sew a repair ourselves. An Austin dealership referred us to Joe Harrison Motorsports in San Antonio . The parts department there exchanged the bag under warranty. I thought we could shift the contents of the old bag to the new one, leave the old base mounted and be on our way in 10 minutes. Unfortunately, the new tank bag had a different base design, which necessitated taking off the gas tank and refitting the entire thing. While there I also adjusted the pre-load on the rear shock of the Guzzi to the minimum sag with tools on loan from Harrison 's service staff. The whole stop took about two hours.

From San Antonio Interstate 35 goes about 150 miles to Laredo . We rode the distance in about two hours, getting gas on the northern edge of Laredo before making our way to the border. According to the odometer, we had ridden about 1,700 miles from Virginia to the U.S./Mexico border.