Ok, I have time to blab in more detail about this little run. The first day was spent in the truck to make time and get my heinie a good chunk north. But I couldn’t help but break up the monotony with some smaller secondary roads. Slower going than just shooting up interstate 35, but worth it to me. I hates the 35. Made a few stops along the way, nothing overly exciting. Stuff like this, Camp of The Army of The Republic of Texas.
If you want a deeper dive than the marker, this link was full of interesting stuff that could take you down a lot of rabbit holes.
https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/entries/army-of-the-republic-of-texas
Daydreamed about a Texas Republic for a while, I don’t know why, never happen. I think it was more of a
what if we were never annexed in the first place daydream. But we were, in order to form a more perfect union? Enough, clear the mechanism, stopped for a break in Talco Texas. If you’ve been through here, you are asking yourself why would anyone stop there? But this little sleepy town holds some significance to my family. My Mom and Dad ran a general store/meat market here in the early 70s. Here is what is left of the store, an empty field.
Depressing, like a lot of these small towns that dry up over time. I looked around and thought about a story I remembered hearing. Some thug type guys were doing thuggish stuff at the store in the parking lot, in front of women and children. My Dad goes out to tell them to cool it…..and be cool. They had other plans and tried to explain thug life to my Dad, two of them holding my Dad while #3 tries to beat him up. Dad was lucky and landed a kick in the right place, then grabbed some thug hair and commenced to tipping the scales back in his favor. I think my teenage Uncle,
@ConejoDon, also came out from behind the meat counter and helped dissuade them from wanting to be on the premises. My Dad was upset he got blood on his Levi’s and his blue jean shirt got ripped….that my Mom embroidered some butterflies or some such 70s stuff. Thug #3 was probably mad when he left, cause my Dad still had a fist full of his hair in his hand. My Dad passed away over 10 years ago. As life goes, Thug #3 is probably still alive. But I bet he is bald. I smiled as I headed out of town. For whatever reason I sniffed out some dirt. I wondered if my Dad rode his bike out of town on this same road as I crossed the Sulphur River and on through Cuthand Tx. My spidy senses said he was on two wheels right in here. And dang, had to put it in 4wheel drive on this “county” road.
Cuthand Texas….oh boy, here I go again, apologies. Named after a creek of the same name in the area….the creek got its name from a Delaware Indian chief that came here from Indiana in 1823. The chief had lost three fingers from a saber slash in his younger days and because of his disfigurement, he was forever known as Cut Hand. The creek was named by General Thomas J. Rusk of Nacogdoches, a close friend of the chief. That Rusk guy got around! I’ve stayed at the KOA camp in Rusk a couple times when I made a loop out of the East Texas “500” bike route….never thought about the name of the town before. Crazy how much Texas history is all around us and we just go on about our way.
I went on about my way and daydreamed some more. This general area is where my offroad heritage started. My Dad riding scramblers/dual sports around North East Texas and the Broken Bow Oklahoma area. Pic below of one of his first bikes, per the back of the pic it was taken in April of 1973 BS, Before Stevo. Anybody know what bike that is? I think maybe a 1970 or so Honda CL Scrambler, guessing a 350?
The below pic was my first “ride” on a bike. You can tell I’m not happy about it, bike is overloaded with my sisters and my Dad, we can’t run light ha ha. This looks to be a different bike but still a scrambler style? He was still learning what worked and what didn’t….that also jived with his pocket book. I remember him telling me stories of venturing down fire roads amongst the pine trees up here on these scramblers and seeing other guys doing crazy hill climbs and creek crossing submersible games. He saw the light. Just had to find a way to get to it.
This next one looks like a year or so later, me with Dad on a different bike. You can tell the learning curve was improving. Looks to me like that is a whole ‘nother animal? Cylinder looks big and I look decently happy, must be a 500 ha ha.
I can’t ask him what bike that was, dadgumit. @Canejodon might know….and speaking of him, below is a pic of that hippy, along with me, sitting on their bikes pre-ride. The scene hasn’t changed much, I still get excited sitting on bikes and
@ConejoDon usually is sporting a mischievous grin…..about to say something clever no doubt
.
I reluctantly moved on from this zone, crossed into Oklahoma, Choctaw for red people. People (okla) Red (humma). How do you say toothless white people in Choctaw? I believe okienoflossie. Rolled through Broken Bow. Another area “the boys” road when I was a baby, Cucumber Creek area. Always bothered me I didn’t get to experience this with them. But I’m up in the middle of it now. Made a couple stops to stretch.
Rolled into Arkansas and landed at my digs at a campground and got situated. When I picked my dates several weeks back, the weather forecast was sunny and nice and I was going to just tent camp it. Last week the forecast changed and showed intermittent rain, some storms even. I decided before I left from home, oh well I’m going, it will be an adventure either way? But….I cheated and upgraded my tent spot to one of these little A frame guys. I had a camp site reserved for the following night at Mount Magazine to camp off the bike….decisions need to be made….rain in the forecast for tomorrow in that zone. Not as much fun riding in the rain, let alone setting up in it at the end of the day. Will make up my mind in the morning, truck stays here either way.
But for now, did what I do best. Grill some meat and suck down some cold ones. Step 1, give the potatoes a head start.
Step 2 Prep the sacrifice.
Step 3 let the ribeye catch up.
Step 4 eat your heart out. Night night, watch your top knot.
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