Field Testing: One Girl, One Bike, 580 Miles to Dollywood

Field Testing: One Girl, One Bike, 580 Miles to Dollywood

What better way to prove the gear we stock is worth its salt than to load it up and hit the highway solo? This July, I pointed the front wheel south and set out from Chicago to Dollywood—just me, the bike, and all told 818 miles of road to covered.

Packing Rituals

Four days on the bike doesn’t require much if you know what works. My Voyager Sissy Bar Bag and Tank Bag are my ride-or-die setup. They’ve been with me on plenty of trips, and every time, they do exactly what I need: keep everything close and easy to grab.

I strapped the sissy bag down with the included straps—solid, no wiggle—and tossed a cargo net over the top for good measure. That bag held all the basics: clothes and a change of shoes. A smaller sissy bar bag carried my rain suit (because we all know if you don’t pack it, it pours). My tank bag had the essentials: toiletries, jump-start battery, sunglasses, wallet. Up front in the fork tool bag—every tool I might need to get back on the road if something tried to sideline me.

Gear to Ride In

Head to toe, I was covered. My Gringo S helmet paired with the Sena Bluetooth so I could blast music, shoot videos, and grab photos along the way. Atelier Volant riding boots on my feet, armored Dyneema riding overalls and jacket on my body, checkered gloves on my hands, and earplugs to keep the highway hum at bay. Dialed in and ready for whatever came.

The Ride

The miles ticked by under the kind of sky you hope for: 80 degrees, big puffy clouds, not a hint of rain. Maybe it was the rain suit working its reverse magic—bring it along, stay dry.

I stopped in Indianapolis to check out Howl & Hide, then had one of the best damn salads of my life at Bluebeard. From there, it was on to Lexington for a night in the historic district, a gelato, a walk through town, then a strong breakfast in the morning.

The only hiccup? Running out of gas on the highway—nothing like that sinking feeling when the throttle goes soft. At least now I know exactly how many miles I can stretch a tank. Limped it to a station, topped off, and carried on.

Rolled into Knoxville, picked up my guy, and we rode the last leg together into Dollywood. Bucket list: checked. 818 miles logged, gear tested, spirit fed.

This trip was everything I needed and then some. The setup did me right—no complaints, no regrets.

Next up: mountain roads, Smokey mountain air, and whatever else this season brings.