As I ride towards Cherokee the winds pick up noticeably. At first I feel a few drops. Then suddenly, a deluge. I quickly pull into a resort motel for cover and don my rain jacket and gloves.

The thunder and lightning are quite fierce. I stand there, drinking water and looking out at the road where successive sheets of white are furiously sweeping across. I find myself smiling. Soon it ebbs and I'm on my way again.

I arrive in Cherokee and another thunderstorm rolls in. This time I'm exposed for a little longer. The warm-weather pants that I'm wearing tuck into the boot as opposed to over the boot and are made of highly breathable material. Almost instantly, I feel cold streams of water literally race down my legs and into my boots unimpeded. I need to do something now, before my boots fill up!

I quickly pull in to the Ramada Hotel and seek shelter under the covered entrance area. Again the rain comes down fast and furious. As I walk into the hotel lobby, everything is dark. It turns out that the power in all of Cherokee went out ten minutes ago. The lobby is deserted. No guests anywhere.

Things around the hotel are very quiet. Several of the staff are standing around chitchatting. A few have flashlights. There is nothing for them to do. When the power is down, nothing works.

Soon a couple drives up for check-in. They had been on Great Smoky Mountain when the storm unleashed and found things quite intense. Big branches on the road etc.

At the front of the lobby they have a small inner café with chairs and seven or eight small bistro tables right up to the full-length panoramic windows. The bike is parked right outside the windows under cover. There is nothing to do, nowhere to go in this storm.

And so, I set up my command post. I hang my jacket on a chair, maps and papers on the table, munch on something or other and wait out the storm. The rain is still pounding the pavement outside as I review my trip notes and make some additions. There is no cell phone signal and so no one to call. J

Quite relaxing, actually.

After a good hour, the sun breaks out again. The locals, mostly native Americans, seem to think that the worst is over. In order to corroborate this, I have a good chat with the hotel manager. I also ask him about the type of weather that we're experiencing.

Though spring often brings severe weather to these regions, he seems to think that these storms are a little stronger than average. However, he also seems confident that the worst is over. He claims that just before the power went out, satellite radar pictures from the weather network indicated clearing for this region. I gear up and decide to head south towards Hiawassee.

Bruno
Montreal, Canada