Day 8 – Elkhart IN to Murfreesboro TN
Rolling out of Elkhart, the plan was a hefty 755 miles—lofty, considering the looks the sky was throwing my way. In reality, the day gave up just 450, and honestly, I blame the heavy rain for stealing those missing miles. There’s just something about watching the weather close in on you, the radar all lit up like a Christmas tree, that dampens more than just your gear—it soaks your spirit a bit too.
Sitting in the hotel lobby at 5am, I did my usual ritual: eyes locked on the radar, hoping for mercy from the storm gods. Fifteen long minutes ticked by and, finally, a break—a thin crack in the clouds. I jumped at the chance, rolling out before the next downpour could pin me down.
The ride to Mentone for the Indiana coin stop was wet and moody, roads mostly empty except for the constant drizzle. It’s the kind of weather that has you craving comfort food and shelter in equal measure.
An early stop at the “Largest Egg in the World” felt fitting—though too early for breakfast, my imagination cooked up a feast anyway.
Checking the forecast before the next leg, I saw the storm still camped out East of Columbus and the Ohio “Triple Nickel.” Not just rain—this was a wall of water and wind, and as much as it stings to admit, sometimes you’ve got to let a road win the day. I reluctantly skipped it, making a silent promise to return when the ride could be savored, not just survived. That decision cut 300 miles from the plan, and even as I felt the disappointment settle in, I pointed the front wheel into a sliver of daylight, chasing the hope of drier roads.
The rest of the day blurred by—those last miles always do when home is pulling at you like gravity. Rain gear off after the Egg, adrenaline fading, and just the steady rhythm of the highway through Indianapolis and Louisville, dodging traffic and closures, skipping all the distilleries I’d usually check out, focused on the finish line.
When I finally rolled into Murfreesboro, bike and rider both a little worn but whole, I felt the kind of quiet triumph you only get at the end of a long, unpredictable ride. The week had thrown its worst at me—downpours, detours, and a few hard choices—but I made it home, stories and memories richer.
Until next time!
Roaming Cage Free 
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