Many of the roads loved most by motorcyclists are timeworn remnants. Too often, when a forest or mountain stands in the way, it's been a simple matter of putting the big equipment to work indiscriminately slashing trees and moving tons of dirt to fashion the perfect point-A to point-B route. Thankfully though, we still have roads that follow the path of least resistance, and some of the best are age-old trails.

Fleeing south on Interstate 85, I'm feeling relieved to have, once again, successfully completed another circumnavigation of the city of Atlanta. The sheet-metal maelstrom known as Interstate 285, encircling the Capital of the South, arguably has the capacity to supply more "interesting moments" than any road in the country. With the sun slowly making its way toward the horizon, I'm confident of a much more relaxing pace in the gently sloping mountains around Warm Springs, Georgia.

Where is it? I know it's around here somewhere. After all the pictures and movies, it shouldn't be that hard to spot, yet for some reason it seems to be eluding me in the early stages of the tour. Oh well, they say patience is a virtue and I know Alabama is as good a location as any, so I won't waver in my quest. I've journeyed here to find the South, and I'm going to ride until I do.

Years ago while on our way back to college in Western Maryland, my friend Rick and I stopped at a wide spot by the road next to the Potomac River. We simultaneously picked up rocks and hurled them into the current. Rick opined that it's impossible to stand on the banks of a river and not throw a rock. I understood then and I understand today. I guess like rocks to water, some things are so deeply instinctual that they just happen. I've been swearing I wouldn't, but I simply can't resist breaking into a Schuberth-muffled rendition of "Sweet Home Alabama" as I cross the state line.

Three days, three states, a Triumph Thunderbird Sport and Moto Guzzi Café Sport sound like a recipe for adventure to me. So, when the phone call came through to ask if I wanted to come along, it certainly didn't take much more than a split second to sign up for this one, especially as the start of the tour is less than three hours from my North Carolina home.