A scary beginning and end: Georgia

Day 4, August 8

I’m covering lots of ground. In fact, I’m covering so much ground my friends are asking about it.

Ara Gureghian, Oasis of My Soul, says, “I hope you are enjoying yourself. It sounds more like you are on a mission covering the States versus looking around you. I use to do that… “ and then Rachel, author of Fuzzygalore.com, Tweets, “@dbrentmiller hope you’re enjoying your travels. Are you taking the scenic route or making tracks?”

Yes, I’m making tracks. I’m on a mission to ride my motorcycle through every state in the lower 48, and this trip covers a pretty large corner of the country. But it also has me thinking … “Just what am I doing out here?”

About 30 minutes after starting out this morning, I crossed into Georgia … twice. The first time, I was on US 27, which was not the road I wanted, but here is the sign. So, I stopped and took a picture just in case the other road was not marked.


I turned around, rode back into Florida and then took this little spur of a highway that headed northeast, SR 111. But then, sure enough, another Welcome to Georgia sign in front of a house set back from the road about 150 feet. So I pull over to take a pic with my phone. I get off the bike, snap a picture and then another and then one more.


As I turn around and start back to the motorcycle, I hear fierce barking and growling. Two dogs are charging towards me through the yard. One is a black mutt who breaks off his charge about half way. The other is a white pit bull who keeps coming. It looked mean. I stepped next to the motorcycle placing it between me and the dog, and put my helmet on all the while thinking where am I going if that dog comes around the motorcycle. I’m standing there. Getting ready. Then, about thirty feet from me, he stops. barks, turns around and goes back to the house! I put my gloves on and got the hell out of there.

Welcome to Georgia, Brent.

As I rode away thinking about this, I was there for a couple of minutes taking pictures before these dogs came at me. Frankly, I am wondering if someone let them out of the house. And, why did the dog stoop its charge when I was behind the motorcycle with my helmet on?

I think that Blytheville, Arkansas, farmer’s prayer for my safe travels was still working!

A ways down the road, I spotted a jewel of a building. I love it when communities restore or preserve pieces of their history, and the old passenger train station in Homerville, Georgia, is one of those. I chatted with two ladies at the building as I was taking pictures. The building was bought and restored and is now used for parties and receptions. What a jewel.



Finally reaching my destination for the evening, Augusta, Georgia, I was ready to get off the motorcycle. Tired and hungry and hot, I certainly did not want the excitement that unfolded in front of me as I am getting ready to exit I-520. About five or six cars were involved in a high speed fender bender. Car parts were flying all over the place. There were maybe four or five cars behind the accident that slammed on their brakes to come to a screeching halt. The car in front of me took to the ditch. I locked up my rear wheel and was looking in the rear view mirror to see how close traffic was behind me, and there was a very good amount of space for safety. It was close. Very close. Car parts all over the road.

The damaged cars pulled to the side, and a few cars in front of me wound through the road debris to move along. I did not actually see the accident. I only heard it and reacted. I rode through, took my exit and pulled off at the Holiday Inn.

I need a beer.

Stay tuned for the Carolinas.

See you on the highway.



2 Replies to “A scary beginning and end: Georgia”

  1. “Just what am I doing out here?”

    From the sound of it you’re riding too far too fast. Don’t be a slave to filling in the map. A quality trip will always be better than quantity.

  2. I guess riding a motorsik L makes your beard grow faster. Stop at a Bojangles, it’s the best!!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *