Day 2 Continued
After WPG a route was proposed to hit some of the waypoints on our GPS's from previous TWT and ADV rides (thanks guys!). These included the Little Missouri area, Albert Pike, and finally, the Blue Hole. Our understanding of the area was still a bit foggy but off we went.
Stephen and I managed to find a promising trail near the Little Missouri camp ground and conned the others into following us. We did have to get by two sketchy kids in an old pickup and one rather surly pit bull who tried to sample my hand, but no harm done. We found yet another promising track running along the river that quickly started deteriorating, eventually running smack into this.
Ken says, "yeah good luck with that."
Kyle says "you can't be serious?"
Gary, "seasoned" rider that he is, didn't even bother bringing his bike the last boulder-and-tree strewn 50 yards.
I'll get videos posted eventually that show the ominous deep green of the crossing, with shadowy outlines of barely visible boulders. It hadn't been crossed by bikes (sane ones anyway) in years. No Water-Crossing-of-Death for us, so we about-faced and headed for the Blue Hole.
Like any good rubber-necker, I set up shop on the other side of a puddle and waited for carnage.
But I was disappointed... this time
Our route to the Blue Hole was equally foggy. There was a squiggly line on the GPS. There was a waypoint a half mile off the road. But there was no apparent connection. Upon meeting a gentleman in a quad coming the other way who was also looking for the Hole, I took the first right I came to. Stephen, trusting (naive?) soul that he is, followed. The trail climbed a hill, meandered around a pond, went through a mud hole, climbed another rather treacherous, muddy, rutted hill, but for gad-sakes the BH didn't reveal itself. I was getting a little puckered and little did I know, dissent was brewing in the ranks
. There were thinly veiled remarks to the effect of "Where are Lewis and Clark taking us now?". I had to deliver. And thankfully, the Blue Hole appeared
Whew!
Gary did his magic and all was again right and good. (I know, I'm sorry Mom, it's not Bud Light but what's a guy gonna do??)
The "Lewis and Clark" talk subsided as cold beer reduced our core temperatures...
Jeff even threw some signs
But the
bottom of the Blue Hole wasn't enough. We had to see the top.
The ride up was a bit sketchy (ie: fun!). Can't believe some of you TWTers lugged F800GS's up there.
Who knew these guys were such a bunch of posers?
What is a Mena RR without the iconic Blue Hole Picture?
It was actually pretty breath-taking. Other breath-taking sights included legions of people on quads that started showing up in various states of Arkansas dress, including one famous kid. I'll let Jeff tell that story.
By now the afternoon was getting long and we needed some grub. Albert Pike seemed like a likely candidate as we'd heard rumors of a store. The rumors were true, so we invaded.
Probably one of the better lunches I've had in a long time.
I think the Kyle and Ken conversation went something like this.
Kyle "So Ken, what do you think of that KTM seat?"
Ken "It's just fine, I like it." (which was his answer to everything)
Kyle "My butt hasn't felt so bad since I rode from Key West to Prudhoe Bay in 48 straight hours."
Kyle's butt and our keen lack of beer got the best of him, and Kyle and Gary took one for the team and headed out on a Dual Sport Beer Run (of epic proportions, as we will see later). At this point we were down to four riders. Pecos was having his own adventure "rally ridin'" all over creation at Dakar speeds trying to find us after successfully fixing his bike. He'll have to tell that one
It was time to head back to the ranch but why not grab some new roads on the way home? Mena certainly did not disappoint. North out of Albert Pike is Rd. 512 (512 baby! sorry... that's our area code in Austin
) that someone, maybe AttoirRE? mentioned was his favorite. It started off with a bang... er.. splash?, and was an absolute ball.
That was one
seriously deep water crossing on the first day.
We were happy not to be giving mouth-to-mouth to drowned bikes at 4:00 PM. I have never had water over my front tire and heard my pipe go "glug glug glug" instead of "putt putt putt".
Not 200 yards further we came to this one. Where you could just barely see the other side under the low canopy because the road runs through the creek bottom.
I was finding that tail-end-Charlie had advantages and disadvantages.
A major advantage was that you could let the other guys go first and see if the crossings were treacherous.
(This next one was.) Ken dumped his KTM and Stephen didn't want it to be lonely, so he dumped his KLR right behind him. Then, because the KLR hadn't ingested enough water, Stephen picked it up and dropped it on the other side. Just to make sure the pipe was completely submerged.
Get that video posted Jeff, that's some funny stuff.
The disadvantage was that by the time I crossed the water was all stirred up and I was flying blind. Fortunately I didn't go swimming but it was touch and go at times.
After surviving the "Water Trail" as we called it, we headed out on a twisty, tree crowded, climbing gravel road in the general direction of home. Once again, Arkansas delivered.
I couldn't believe the cool stuff we kept finding. The Sugar Creek Vista pops out of nowhere.
The last trail back I can't remember, and since my (brand new) GPS is still AWOL it will remain a mystery for now. But it was
excellent again although pretty tough on my pig.
The guys left me in the dust because, regularly spaced through most of the trail, up and down, were HUGE perfectly shaped jumps that apparently double as water bars. You can kind of see one over my bike.
Have you ever been left in the dust by a KLR?
It's humbling to say the least. In my defense Stephen rides that jalopy like he stole it, bolts flying everywhere. At any rate it took me awhile to figure these things out. My first inclination was to launch the crap out of them again, which I did about twice. Each flight ended with an almighty bang as every portion of the bottom of my bike came in contact with earth. Then I tried just riding the things, but my under-damped rear shock tried to lauch my butt between my shoulders each time. I finally figured out the perfect throttle blip at the crest of each "water bar" that allowed a perfect, DR sustainable, wheelie drop.
It was really fun. Have I mentioned that I want a KTM?
The cabin was a welcome sight that evening. We listened to Pecos' stories of rally ridin' and contacts with the 4-wheeling types.
Even Ken was tired. My 2.5 year old would have pointed at his toes and said "HE'S GOT RAISENS!" (My kid never talks softly.)
The theme of wet feet was in full play after the Water Trail. My DR was happy that I was done asking it for flight time.
I think the only casualty in addition to Ken's back brake lever (from the swimming lesson) and Pecos' peg was yet another DR license plate.
I've trashed three of the darned things now and finally wised up and provided some additional support to my new one.
I take that back, Stephen's bike shed some more bolts. The aft one holding the header pipe on, right?
Gary and Kyle arrived shortly after with a MOUND of beer on their cycles. Unfortunately I only have video of the incident, but Gary had 60 beers on his bike and Kyle had 18.
They sniffed that the HD rider they saw only had room for one 16-ozer
At least now we had lots of beer to go with our stack of day old pizza in the fridge.
Gary contemplates a massive map of WPG that he put together from maps he found on the internet. He is old school.
Unfortunately, it was only good for TP because none of the trails were numbered correctly.
Tim's Yamaha, I tell ya.
Day 2 finally came to a close as we sipped beer, listened to dogs scratch their fleas, and talked riding. Man I was TIRED, but wow that was FUN.