Making A Run For The Border
Originally published in Southeastern Rider Magazine, August 2016
Moving six hundred miles from the place that I had spent most of my life means that every trip that I take in my new home state of North Carolina is an adventure. When I lived in Indiana, I spent all but a couple of college years living in the middle of the state. While I did make a few runs outside the Hoosier State, most of the time “a run for the border” meant getting a bite to eat at a fast food, pseudo Mexican eatery.
So I was excited to be heading south and crossing the line into the other Carolina with my favorite riding partner seated behind me. We have this little tradition, it started with our first ride. We hop on the bike, with the plan only in my head, plotted on the GPS in front of me. She asks for hints and makes guesses along the way, but usually she doesn’t know our destination until we are nearly there.
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| Compliments of Microsoft's Streets and Trips, our route for our Run South of the Border. |
We started in our little town, about 15 miles east of Charlotte, Locust. After filling the tank, we started south on State Road 200. We crossed Highway 24/27 in to and through Stanfield. Shortly after town, I veered to the right on Morgan Academy Road. This is an unusual name for a road around here. We found out quickly after moving to Stanly County, that if you are not on a road with church in the title, you are on your way to a road with church in name.
Another state highway was used to enter New Salem, and then we were lead down Highway 205. This ribbon of pavement, which is far from feeling like a highway, brought us into Marshville. We left town on White Street, which changed names to Landsford Road before leaving the little burg. This road twisted over the rolling hills until it came to an end at White Store Road. The word store is a frequent part of road names around here, too.
We felt more at home when we pulled on to Union Church Road. This road would have been a highlight of the trip if it wasn’t for all the “Loose Gravel” and “Road Construction” signs. We played it safe, proceeding with due caution, but never did encountered any loose gravel. It almost made me feel like I need to make a U-turn and ride it all over again.
We turned south on State Road 742, and crossed the border. I know a picture would be nice, but there was nothing indicating the crossing to photograph. The GPS told me when we crossed the line, but the only other evidence was that a highway sign identified the road as being in South Carolina.
We could see one indication that we had arrived in a different place. A glance at the side of the road revealed that the soil had changed from red clay, to a tan sand. Kasey, my riding partner got excited that I was taking her to the beach. She had no idea how far from the shoreline we were.
Our first town in South Carolina was Chesterfield, where we made a couple of jogs, and then headed out on State Road 102.
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| Churches offer pretty good parking lots for a break. In the Carolina's, you are never too far from one, either. |
The GPS was giving me some fits, and it was time for a little stop anyway, so we pulled into a church parking lot. I would imagine that earlier on this Sunday that the parking lot and sanctuary was packed. Now that it’s afternoon, the only traffic we saw was a couple of guys parked across the street, heading off to fish in the creek we had just crossed. While we stretched our legs, and rested our rear ends, I grabbed the camera.
Kasey still was unaware that our destination was a South Carolina State Park to check out their campsites. Camping is another activity we enjoy together. Our retirement plans include a motorcycle, a Roll-A-Home Camper, and every camp site we can hit across the country.
Patrick, South Carolina is one of towns near Cheraw State Park. We crossed a set of rail road tracks, made a turn, and then left town. The house stopped, leaving us cruising by a Pine Tree Farm. The rays of sunlight poured through the trees, lighting up the golden sandy soil that mixed with the fallen needles. I was hoping this would be a distraction for Kasey, but unfortunately for me and my desire to surprise her, signs for the State Park started dotting the edge of the road.
Since we were there for information, we made our way to the park office. The park had several visitors as one of the shelters was full of what looked like a family reunion. It was April, so most likely the water was still a bit chilly. There were some brave, young souls that decided to go for a swim.
As is usually the case, the lady in the park office was very friendly, and filled us with lots of knowledge. It actually became a trade. She was about to visit Indiana, and we offered some must see places and things to do.
The campsites are across the lake, and you can only get to them by leaving the park, taking a short trip south on US 52, and entering the area. The road quickly turned to fine gravel and dirt. The campground is a small plot, with only about 20 sites, but certainly looked like a place we would be pitching a tent in the future. We were a bit bewildered as to why there were so few camp sites, and those weren’t even full. There was room to expand, and it was a beautiful area. As I parked the bike to walk to the water’s edge, we remembered the park ranger’s warning of snakes.
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| Kasey should be taking in the view, but instead, she is checking the shoreline for the snakes we warned about. Neither one of us saw any. |
We left the park, heading north on US 52, and into the town of Cheraw. Believe it or not, US-52 could take us all the way back to Indiana, as it crosses the state from near Cincinnati, Ohio to Chicago.
By the way, we also found out that the pronunciation (chuh-RAW ) of the state park and town. Part of going across the border is learning the lingo. Cheraw, as it sounds, is named after the Native American People who migrated to Chesterfield County in the late 17th Century. The Cheraw tribe was related to the Sioux, and were the dominate tribe over the Pee Dee Indians who also lived in the area.
The 1.8 liter engine on my VTX groaned as we approached town. Our stomachs, too, were making some noise, so we decided that stop for a bite to eat was in order. Normally, we would try to find a mom and pop eatery, but we decided to drop in on a place we hadn’t been able to eat at in a while, besides it was one of the first places we came across, a Huddle House.
We were happy with our choice, and after the meal, headed back north on SR-52. A lot of the road’s scenery is pretty close to what you see in Indiana, especially Southern Indiana. The lower third of the Hoosier State features more rolling hills, and limestone quarries. The northern third, including the portion that US 52 runs through, the road is a split, dual lane highway. In addition to square corn fields, you will see wind turbine farms.
We crossed back into North Carolina, and the first major town was Wadesboro. We actually looked at moving here, but it was just too far from where we wanted to be. It wasn’t long after Wadesboro that we were deep into Stanly County, pulling into the town of Norwood.
We headed west on South Stanly School Road, passing through Aquadale. The road gently inclined and dropped, as easily as it bent left and right. Oakboro is a bit bigger town, and another possible future home for us. We saw a small group of bikers taking a break under the shelter of an overhang. We headed north, continuing through Red Cross approaching Highways 24/27. This part of the trip we were paying close attention to the home and empty lots since we were right in the area that we feel is ideal for a future home.
Being more familiar with the roads near our home meant we could meander our way back home. I was amazed we had made this entire trip across the border, and back on just tankful of gas! Unlike the eatery mentioned before, we were promising ourselves we would be back, probably making frequent runs for the border.
Read more about my two wheeled travels on my blog, at http://rodneysmcblog.blogspot.com/
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