OK, let's move on to more pleasant matters. Ride reports are what this thread is supposed to be about, and I apologize got off topic,
let me get it back on track.
All photos in this ride report are courtesy of Don (shaft drive six).
Don and I started the ride up Friday morning at about 6:30. We met up at the McDonalds in Alvarado. I chowed down on a biscuit while we discussed the plan for the day. It was decided we would slab it through Dallas and eastward, then get off the interstate east of Mt. Pleasant, diverting north on 259. 259 was the straightest, loneliest road I have ridden in a long time. For the first 30 miles or so it's straight as arrow with very few driveways or access. I spent most of those miles in full tuck at 100mph trying to keep up with Don. We quickly fell into a pattern. Down to 50mph behind a semi, then pass and back up to 100. Another semi and back down to 50. It went this way for the entire 30 miles to the first curve just north of Beaverdam, Tx, then it was a more sedate pace through some high-speed sweepers into Oklahoma. Across the border in into Idabel we stopped for gas and met a friendly Hayabusa rider also headed for Eureka Springs. His name is Ernie and he's from Wichta Falls. I invited him to check out the forum and to join us for the ride to ES. He accepted both. We hit the road again and a few miles and some more gorgeous Oklahoma scenery and we made our turn onto the Talimena Scenic Byway. Here's the first shot from one of the scenic turnout. It shows me talking to Ernie about his beautiful - de-stickered - Busa.
Don, aka "Blue Wolf", proudly posing behind his Wing.
My ZRX against the Oklahoma backdrop.
Myself and Ernie enjoying brief rest after the spirited pace to the turnout.
Ernie: I didn't know a Goldwing was that fast.
Don: That? That was nothing. Hang around and I'll show you how fast a Goldwing really is.
We didn't get any more pics on the trip up there, but it was a pretty typical ride, so you aren't missing out on much.
We arrived into ES at about 4pm (I think) and we went straight to the hotel. I unloaded and got right back on the bike and headed over to the Swiss Mountain Inn where the ZRX Owners Association was meeting for their spring rally. I said hi to some old friends and made a couple of new ones. The best part was getting to check out the ZRX's. The guys are seriously into farkling their bikes, and the results were spectacular. Some of the prettiest bikes I've ever seen. Wish I had some pictures. I'll find a link to some pics on the ZRXOA forum.
We had dinner at Sparky's that evening, and it was as good as usual. Great service, great beer, great food, great company. What else could you ask for?
The next morning, Bill was in the parking lot around 9 getting the ride formed up. I asked him if he wanted me to sweep, but he smiled and innocently said "I thought you were going to run up front with me?" Well, since we've been taunting each other (jokingly) on the forum for the past several weeks, I had to take him up on the offer. Bill would lead and someone else would sweep (Squeaky, I think). I rode up front right behind Bill. I quickly learned that Bill is a fantastic rider. I think on the right bike he could easily leave me in the dust. But that day I think I had a little power and tire advantage and I was able to stay with him. Since riding of this nature is not intended to be a race, I was content to stay back there and just enjoy the brisk pace.
All was well until late morning. We passed through Jasper on our way to The Cliff House, but since it was only 10:30, we decided to make a run down 123. Let me just say now that I LOVE 123. The first mile up the road was spectacular. A few sweepers to get us out of Mt. Judea, the it quickly tightened up into some fabulous switchbacks. One after another they came, each one more fun than the last. Bill is just ahead of me, and the turns are very tight, switchback to the right, then to the left, then a short straight, the a 90* to the right and - - - OH ****! Bill is riding a bucking bull! The Strom tries to throw him several times, he almost saves it, then it finally spits him over the high side. He whips over the top and lands on his left shoulder. I'm hauling the Rex down and things are quiet enough that I hear him hit the pavement with a sickening thud. He's laying there. Still. There was no movement as I was running over to him, then as I approach, he begins to roll over. I encourage him to lay still and begin to look him over. Everything so far appears intact. He's moaning and mumbling something I can't remember and I ask him where he is hurting. He says "shoulder". I look at the left shoulder a little more closely, and sure enough, even through the jacket, something doesn't look right. He begins to roll around and eventually he sits up and scoots a couple feet to the edge of the pavement, feet resting in the grass. By now the whole group is here, Roger speeds ahead to the next curve to wave off traffic, and everybody comes around to see happened and what they can do to help. 911 is called, photos are taken, EMS arrives, sheriff arrive, state police arrive, more EMS arrive, and so on. Eventually, they all decide that and ambulance ride to Fayetteville, where the nearest orthopedist is, will take too long by ground, so they call in the air evac. While all this was going on, Don got some pretty good pics of the scene.
In these first two, you can see somebody in the background sweeping the gravel that caused the accident off the road. Nice shots, Don.
A random bit of beauty amidst all the ugliness of a crash.
After EMS got Bill down to the chopper and safely on his way to the hospital, we decided to -carefully- head over to the Cliff House to get some food. Melanie was stressed and hungry and we wanted to get he fed before her ride to Fayetteville. Sadly, for me though, the Cliff House was not all it was hyped up to be. The service was horrible and my burger was tough and chewy. The only thing good I can say about the place was the view. Without a doubt the nicest view out a restaurant window I've ever seen. (One possible exception is the view from the old Reatta's when it was at the top of the Bank One tower in downtown Ft. Worth. Spectacular)
Squeaky and I planning the ride for the afternoon. She was going to head over to the hospital with Melanie and I think Donovan. Somehow, amidst all this planning, I was elected the new ride leader. God help us.
I think these might be the only pictures captured of Squeakers.
Sunday, the group seemed to fragment quite a bit. Thanks to Roger and Doug (?), I was up early despite my long night fetching Bills bike. Thanks alot guys!
I told them to head out without me as I wanted to spend the morning with my wife. She came up in the pickup to spend the evenings with me, and so far I had barely gotten to see her. So we got breakfast and did the tourist thing in ES while everyone else was out riding. At about noon, my wife loaded up and headed back to Texas, and I met up with Don, Roger and Doug (I hope I'm getting that name right
). We have lunch and headed out for more riding. We went on a leisurely loop not too far from ES, then ended coming back through town again in search of the Beaver Bridge. We eventually found it took the opportunity to get a drink of water and take a few pics.
The shots you see of the bikes coming across the bridge were preceded by a little drama. I got on the far side to take the pics while the other 3 bikes crossed over. As they started across, a truck zoomed up and before I could say anything he started across too! They met in the middle. There was actually enough room for them to pass as the bikes had scooted up close to the side, but the pickup driver decided to take the opportunity to be a "donkey". Words were exchanged, gestures were shown, and eventually he moved on. I took a few distance shots of the exchange, but for some reason Don didn't give those to me.
The trip home started out with a bad omen. Don's tire was low. Really low at about 15psi. We got it over to the service station and aired it back up, wondering if it would hold. Well it turns out is wasn't going to. Within and hour, it was back down, and we were forced to stop. A small roadside sore had some fix-a-flat, so he put in a can, aired up the tire again, and off we headed. Before we got to the store, Don offered to take a few shots of me as I rode by. Here are a couple that turned out nice. These look eerily similar to the ones we took last year like this.
By the time we got to Ozark, we stopped for breakfast and it was clear the fix-a-flat wasn't holding. Don had discovered the source of the leak was a cracked valve stem. In a moment of pure genius, he bought some super glue from a Dollar Store, slathered it on the valve stem, held it for a minute, then aired it up again. Lo and behold, it held! So we load up and head 25 miles in the wrong direction to get to the only bike shop we can find, and they fix the Wing right up. No biggie, only a couple hours lost time.
Well, that would have been fine and dandy, if only we hadn't gotten lost. Don's GPS became possessed and led us on a wild goose chase through southwestern Arkansas. I'll save you the boredom of the entire story, but suffice it to say we didn't get home until after 9:00pm.
Ugh. I was whipped.
Welcome to the Two Wheeled Texans community! 
Feel free to hang out and lurk as long as you like. However, we would like to encourage you to 
