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[Note: Long-winded ride report to follow. If you prefer pictures only please click HERE for a slideshow compilation courtesy of Dutch. The same link will be provided at the end of this ride report. Now sit back, relax and come along for the ride.]
If you’ve never heard of the annual E.A.R. event (Easter Arkansas Ride) then you’re probably not alone. In fact, there’s never officially been one by that name. Originally inspired by an intrepid group, a lack of traffic, and the lure of the curve (humble beginnings HERE & HERE) Dutchinterceptor & I have been using the Easter holiday weekend ever since to kick-off our multi-day trips to Arkansas. [Truthfully, we look for that perfect weather weekend between November and March to get there sooner – a scouting mission of sorts… or an excuse to chew up more tires
] Watching the uncooperative weather week after week, turning into month after month, it became apparent that Easter was going to be our first shot at “Curve Therapy” for 2009.
This year’s ride encompassed our biggest group so far and quite a collection of bikes. The obligatory FJR (terrebandit’s [Dave] new ride), a beemer (Skip Honeycutt), three generations of Bandits (Lowryter [John] - 1st gen / txbanditrydr - 2nd gen / ML - 3rd gen), a scooter (cwdancer [Elly]) and a VFR in full touring mode (Dutchinterceptor). Our adventure really began a day early with terrebandit riding from Austin to Tyler to attend our monthly ETM&G . He arrived just in time to help me re-assemble my bike, which was in pieces due to a stripped drive shaft nut. After some quick wrenching we took off for the M&G… a test run for me – a cobbler fix for him. During this time, ML was already heading to Arkansas since he decided to trailer up a day early to get some solo riding in.
Thursday was the official start of the trip. Lowryter was heading out of OKC with his bike on a trailer. Dutch, Skip, Dave & I met at a Tyler gas station under the watchful eye of the Tyler PD – I’m not real sure why we were getting the ol’ stink eye…
maybe they were jealous. Kick stands up at 8am sharp and we were on our way to meet cwdancer in Big Sandy. Now Elly was under strict orders to be ready to roll and with the precision of a fighter pilot she fell right in line behind our ride leader Dutch – we didn’t even slow down. Our first leg to New Boston was uneventful… overcast skies but dry conditions. All of the weather warriors indicated we might beat the storms scheduled to arrive later that evening – they were wrong. Ten miles into Arkansas it started to rain so we pulled over to don our sauna suits and pushed on.
The rain wasn’t real heavy. In fact, there were several times the sky lightened and I knew we could ditch the rain gear. Sadly, it would come back – gladly, we kept the gear on. We stopped for gas and lunch in Mt. Ida – our usual Subway sandwich – and took a break just past the halfway point. On the road again and running behind the skies opened up… with more rain – the heaviest so far as we slogged our way to Russellville for the final gas stop. The last 100 miles between Russellville and Yellville is the twistiest of the day – when you’re the most tired – when it started to rain even harder – what more can we add to this mix???
FOG – good ol’ pea soup, blanket type, thick fog. As we wound up the mountain on Hwy 7 toward 123 the fog banks would just obliterate the rider in front of you and then disappear just as quick.
Just as the fog subsided I noticed the utter destruction of trees on both side of “Scenic 7” and my first thought was it must have been a recent tornado. The destruction continued as we pressed on and my second thought was how weird that a tornado would follow the path of a curvy road. After 50 miles of destruction it was apparent this wasn’t a tornado and it finally clicked – ice storm. Trees that weren’t completely uprooted had their tops sheered off or bent over. It looked like a war zone with the lack of springtime foliage adding to the bleakness. Trees that had fallen across the road were trimmed off flush with the road edge presenting a huge hazard to riders who wander off the beaten path. Be mindful of this when venturing north of I-40 as these conditions are likely to exist for a long time.
Caution was the word of the day as we approached our curve Mecca of 123 between Lurton & Mt. Judea. The rain had slacked off but there were still clumps of bark in the road and lots of sand/gravel strategically placed on the outside of the curves. Knowing we’d be on this road again it was a good opportunity to scope out the trouble spots for our (hopefully) more spirited runs. We pulled into Yellville after 6pm and actually had about 40 miles without any rain, which helped dry things out – I hate dragging wet gear into the hotel room. Lowryter & ML had beer iced down
for us – ML even got in some miles before we got there. Mileage for the day stood at 410.
With everyone safely at the hotel we hung out, grabbed a bite to eat and waited on the big storms that had torn through Mena earlier that evening. The squall line hit with some small hail, heavy rain and a bit of wind but no bike damage occurred. The real problems began about midnight when new neighbors checked into the adjoining room and proceeded to party, yell, scream and laugh until nearly 4am – even with a polite but firm request to hold it down.
Long day… long night but the weather warriors promised good things ahead.
Friday morning dawned cloudy and cool but at least it was dry. Forecast called for warmer temps and some sunshine later on – making up for the previous day’s mess. After a leisurely breakfast at the appropriately named “Hilltop Café” (uphill walk all the way) we got ready to roll only to find a light mist falling. Curses you weather warriors… you guys are killing us. Out comes the rain gear once again just in case things turn for the worse. The rain gear actually helped in other ways since our “gradual warm-up” became a gradual cool-down with temps falling into the lower 40’s and continued misty rain. Now you might be thinking what a horrible trip this is… but we’re still cutting up curves in Arkansas and that makes things a whole lot better.
Our route plan took us through Jasper where we took a short break at a scenic overlook. As if it wasn’t scenic enough, Dutch and Elly decide to climb the observation tower for a better look at the clouds and mist – they didn’t stay long and quickly descended. The rest of us scrambled to shed some coffee and whatnot since the next rest area would be Clarksville for lunch. With everyone good to go a couple of us ventured ahead of the pack with designated stopping points to gather the group up. The rain-filled downhill switchbacks as you near Ponca on 74 really held your attention but traction was modest and the rain seemed to be slacking up. After re-grouping in Ponca, Lowryter and I pressed on the to the next rendezvous point and waited… and waited… and waited. Just about the time we decided to turn around the rest of the gang caught up. Something about a U-turn and the ensuing confusion that took a while to sort out. Those in the know will probably do that part of the story better justice, since I never witnessed a thing.
We stayed as a pack running down 21 to Clarksville – some great curves made better by dry roads and the occasional burst of acceleration. The cold temperatures continued (thank you Gerbings pants and liner) so when we arrived in Clarksville everyone was famished. A quick gas stop and off the to diner we go. We found this little truck-stop diner on the inaugural trip and it’s always been a favorite place to eat. You get your choice of meats and 6 sides… not 6 sides to choose from as “pick any two” – nope, you get all six sides including desert for less than seven bucks.
The hot food seemed to bring us back to life until it hit bottom – then yawns and discussions of naps started happening.
Dutch checked on the troops and we decided to cut the route short by beelining to the hotel. Never fear though… this beeline would include the “lower” portion of 123 (from 21 to 7), which has been largely resurfaced and is decent shape compared to previous years. More great curves with the occasional one-lane bridge tossed in for effect. Speaking of effects - the slurry of water, gravel and mud flowing across the road at the top of a blind uphill curve will cause some unspeakable effects – another reminder to always keep something in reserve. We gathered again at 7 & 123/16 before making the last leg back. At the 123 Lurton cut-off a familiar site was replayed with John & I heading out, only this time ML decided to stretch his legs and join us. We still had some debris to contend with but the roads were dry and this time was much more enjoyable than just 24 hours earlier. Cutting the route short still netted 230 miles for the day.
It was nice to get back to the hotel a little early. Tired and cold ruled but somehow a second wind was found with the familiar “crack” of a pop-top and stories of what we’ve seen or missed. (Yes Virginia, cows can graze on a 45-degree slope). Several rounds later we headed to dinner at the “Front Porch” family restaurant where someone once declared "they have the best frog legs this side of New York". We sat there eating with the weather warriors overhead again making promises of good riding weather… yeah – right, I thought to myself. Our waitress was a hoot and cut us zero slack – turns out she was an identical twin to the restaurant owner (IIRC). Then the magic really started… Santa Dave brought Elly a present – what was it? Would it be good riding weather? We would have to wait until the morning – just like Christmas. A few more toddy’s at the hotel and we called it a night. Thankfully, our loud neighbors from the previous night had moved on. Saturday was right around the corner and I needed some rest.
By the time Saturday morning arrived I’d almost forgotten what blue sky and sunshine looked like but it was a welcome site. With the temperatures holding steady at 36 degrees we decided to take a long breakfast and trudged up the hill again. At least you can just roll downhill after you eat. Dutch again pondered over route changes to suit our later departure, hit some good roads and maybe even do a little action photography. Unfortunately, Dave wasn’t feeling real sharp and would become a game-time decision. Perhaps it was a frog leg kicking back or something but in the end (no pun intended) Dave opted out of Saturday’s ride. His goal (and a lofty one at that) was to toss back a few with us upon our return that evening. With that we saddled up and headed down (what else??) 123 for the third time in as many days.
Splitting the group up somewhat seemed to work pretty well. John & I ran the 14-mile stretch of 123 and doubled back to catch the group. Meanwhile, Dutch staked out a corner and allow us to make as many runs by his camera as we wanted.
It was great fun railing the same corners over and over knowing there are no real surprises – or at least knowing where the bad spots are. As is often the case, the photographer gets left out of the fun and by the time the rest of us realized he wanted a few pictures taken of him he’d packed up his gear. Sorry about that – next time you go first. Onward from there we attempted to track down Alum Cove recreation area. This natural bridge formation is tucked about 3 miles off of 16 near 7. Upon arrival it was clear we wouldn’t be hiking very far that day. The ice storm devastation was so bad they’d closed the park area. Trees and power lines were strewn about and it was going to be a long time before it re-opens. Back to plan “C” or “D” or whatever we were on – it pays to be flexible.
Lunch in Jasper seemed to be a good idea and we ended up at the Ozark Café for some sustenance. The food was hot but the café was even hotter… we finally got some ceiling fans going and finished our meal – good food all around and another sure bet if you’re ever in Jasper. While eating, a three-wheeler went by I’ve never seen before – steering wheel, full fairing/body that someone will know the name of. Interestingly, the vehicle was purchased in Marshall, TX at H & W Honda. We never found the owner’s but it sure was interesting looking. After a quick gas stop and some calls to check on Dave (was hoping he’d meet up with us somewhere) we headed toward Push Mountain – the other curve Mecca. It should be noted that during the previous day, Lowrtyer was chewing through his rear tire at a pretty good clip. While heading to Push Mountain we stopped in Harriett to check the tire and it was not in great shape. With 80 miles to go and some fatigue setting in John made the call to head back to the hotel – and then there were five.
Push Mountain road was in fabulous shape – very little debris with the exception of some washout on the northern end switchbacks. We run this road 13 miles north of 14 and return back getting a double shot at perhaps the premier road of Arkansas. Usually this is pretty deserted, however this trip saw slow cars, 4 wheelers, pedestrians and other assorted distractions
– amazingly not a single deer was sighted. I ran ahead – got to the turn-around point and headed back going by the group. Figuring I could get a few extra curves I ran back to 14, turned around and took off again. Here comes Dutch… shortly, here comes ML… quite a bit later comes Elly and Skip so I turn around again. Here come Dutch doubling back… a real three – no five ring circus. We finally gather up at 14 and 341 only to find ML went on ahead to Yellville – and then there were four. 
Heading up 14 to Yellville I realize I’m wind-burnt and sun-burnt – maybe the clouds are good after all (real bad foreshadowing, folks) but it’s been a great day. The kind of day you’d like to have strung several together. Arriving at the hotel we find Dave feeling much better and ML has disappeared – seems like he just had to ride some more and headed toward the Bull Shoals ferry. My day (along with other’s) was done with 255 miles and thus we began cocktail hour. The two guys who trailered wanted to display their trailer savvy and refused any help loading the bikes but there are some things you just can’t refuse during cocktail hour(s) and that’s advice on how things should be done.
Needless to say the peanut gallery had their say – both bikes got loaded without incident and off for another round of (yup – you guessed it) cocktails. 
The good news is pizza can be delivered in Yellville – the bad news is you better be hungry early. Consuming three large pies wasn’t enough (so we thought) and ordering a fourth after the 8pm closing time cost us dearly. It’s about this point what happens in Yellville stays in Yellville but suffice to say cocktail hour(s) resumed. It was a great way to end a great day. 
Sunday came way too early and the weather warriors decided to get things right for a change – too bad they called for
heavy rain, lightning and a severe thunderstorm watch all along our return route. John was long gone with his trailer and truck before we awoke and ML bid us goodbye as the rest of us left at 8am. The first hour was dry but the rain started before we arrived in Marshall. We continued on 27 toward Russellville as the rain increased and lightning zipped across the mountainside. For the first time ever I was glad to see some straight roads just outside of Dover – nearly two hours of rain was tiring and we still had over 300 miles to go. Our gas stop in Russellville started to reveal weaknesses in our rainproof gear, which I discovered ain’t. The little pooling of water in the pants wasn’t a huge concern but the water filled boots downright sucked. Add to that the 43-degree temperature and you had the makings for a cold ride ahead. Nothing to do except keep pressing on – the grip heaters were working and I hadn’t electrocuted myself with the heated liners just yet so I figured I was better off than most.
By the time we reached Mt. Ida all bets were off for staying dry. Elly and I both squeezed out buckets of water from our gloves alone. The leathers were getting heavy and there wasn’t nearly the amount of clever conversation being tossed around as the night before. Temperatures were slowly rising but the rain just kept on coming and didn’t start to taper off until we got off 27. Ironically, the rain actually quit just a few miles from where it started three days earlier. Dry roads and a “Welcome To Texas” sign as we crossed the Red River made a huge difference.
We said a few goodbyes in New Boston since riders would be heading different directions – Skip left in Winona, Elly in Big Sandy, Dutch at I-20, leaving Dave and I finish up the run to my house. I finished with 415 miles for the day and over 1,300 for the trip. Dave stopped just long enough to check the radar and all was clear. He decided to push on to Austin that same night and as he pulled out of my driveway the sun broke through for only the second time the whole trip. Everyone made it back safely based on the emails that trickled in – a hugely successful trip in spite of the conditions.
I’d like to thank everyone for the fun and fellowship on this trip. Also, Dutch and John provided many great photos. Be sure to check out the video compilation slide show found HERE by Dutch. Thanks for reading… hope you enjoyed the ride too.
If you’ve never heard of the annual E.A.R. event (Easter Arkansas Ride) then you’re probably not alone. In fact, there’s never officially been one by that name. Originally inspired by an intrepid group, a lack of traffic, and the lure of the curve (humble beginnings HERE & HERE) Dutchinterceptor & I have been using the Easter holiday weekend ever since to kick-off our multi-day trips to Arkansas. [Truthfully, we look for that perfect weather weekend between November and March to get there sooner – a scouting mission of sorts… or an excuse to chew up more tires
] Watching the uncooperative weather week after week, turning into month after month, it became apparent that Easter was going to be our first shot at “Curve Therapy” for 2009.This year’s ride encompassed our biggest group so far and quite a collection of bikes. The obligatory FJR (terrebandit’s [Dave] new ride), a beemer (Skip Honeycutt), three generations of Bandits (Lowryter [John] - 1st gen / txbanditrydr - 2nd gen / ML - 3rd gen), a scooter (cwdancer [Elly]) and a VFR in full touring mode (Dutchinterceptor). Our adventure really began a day early with terrebandit riding from Austin to Tyler to attend our monthly ETM&G . He arrived just in time to help me re-assemble my bike, which was in pieces due to a stripped drive shaft nut. After some quick wrenching we took off for the M&G… a test run for me – a cobbler fix for him. During this time, ML was already heading to Arkansas since he decided to trailer up a day early to get some solo riding in.
Thursday was the official start of the trip. Lowryter was heading out of OKC with his bike on a trailer. Dutch, Skip, Dave & I met at a Tyler gas station under the watchful eye of the Tyler PD – I’m not real sure why we were getting the ol’ stink eye…
maybe they were jealous. Kick stands up at 8am sharp and we were on our way to meet cwdancer in Big Sandy. Now Elly was under strict orders to be ready to roll and with the precision of a fighter pilot she fell right in line behind our ride leader Dutch – we didn’t even slow down. Our first leg to New Boston was uneventful… overcast skies but dry conditions. All of the weather warriors indicated we might beat the storms scheduled to arrive later that evening – they were wrong. Ten miles into Arkansas it started to rain so we pulled over to don our sauna suits and pushed on.The rain wasn’t real heavy. In fact, there were several times the sky lightened and I knew we could ditch the rain gear. Sadly, it would come back – gladly, we kept the gear on. We stopped for gas and lunch in Mt. Ida – our usual Subway sandwich – and took a break just past the halfway point. On the road again and running behind the skies opened up… with more rain – the heaviest so far as we slogged our way to Russellville for the final gas stop. The last 100 miles between Russellville and Yellville is the twistiest of the day – when you’re the most tired – when it started to rain even harder – what more can we add to this mix???
FOG – good ol’ pea soup, blanket type, thick fog. As we wound up the mountain on Hwy 7 toward 123 the fog banks would just obliterate the rider in front of you and then disappear just as quick.Just as the fog subsided I noticed the utter destruction of trees on both side of “Scenic 7” and my first thought was it must have been a recent tornado. The destruction continued as we pressed on and my second thought was how weird that a tornado would follow the path of a curvy road. After 50 miles of destruction it was apparent this wasn’t a tornado and it finally clicked – ice storm. Trees that weren’t completely uprooted had their tops sheered off or bent over. It looked like a war zone with the lack of springtime foliage adding to the bleakness. Trees that had fallen across the road were trimmed off flush with the road edge presenting a huge hazard to riders who wander off the beaten path. Be mindful of this when venturing north of I-40 as these conditions are likely to exist for a long time.
Caution was the word of the day as we approached our curve Mecca of 123 between Lurton & Mt. Judea. The rain had slacked off but there were still clumps of bark in the road and lots of sand/gravel strategically placed on the outside of the curves. Knowing we’d be on this road again it was a good opportunity to scope out the trouble spots for our (hopefully) more spirited runs. We pulled into Yellville after 6pm and actually had about 40 miles without any rain, which helped dry things out – I hate dragging wet gear into the hotel room. Lowryter & ML had beer iced down
for us – ML even got in some miles before we got there. Mileage for the day stood at 410.With everyone safely at the hotel we hung out, grabbed a bite to eat and waited on the big storms that had torn through Mena earlier that evening. The squall line hit with some small hail, heavy rain and a bit of wind but no bike damage occurred. The real problems began about midnight when new neighbors checked into the adjoining room and proceeded to party, yell, scream and laugh until nearly 4am – even with a polite but firm request to hold it down.
Long day… long night but the weather warriors promised good things ahead.Friday morning dawned cloudy and cool but at least it was dry. Forecast called for warmer temps and some sunshine later on – making up for the previous day’s mess. After a leisurely breakfast at the appropriately named “Hilltop Café” (uphill walk all the way) we got ready to roll only to find a light mist falling. Curses you weather warriors… you guys are killing us. Out comes the rain gear once again just in case things turn for the worse. The rain gear actually helped in other ways since our “gradual warm-up” became a gradual cool-down with temps falling into the lower 40’s and continued misty rain. Now you might be thinking what a horrible trip this is… but we’re still cutting up curves in Arkansas and that makes things a whole lot better.
Our route plan took us through Jasper where we took a short break at a scenic overlook. As if it wasn’t scenic enough, Dutch and Elly decide to climb the observation tower for a better look at the clouds and mist – they didn’t stay long and quickly descended. The rest of us scrambled to shed some coffee and whatnot since the next rest area would be Clarksville for lunch. With everyone good to go a couple of us ventured ahead of the pack with designated stopping points to gather the group up. The rain-filled downhill switchbacks as you near Ponca on 74 really held your attention but traction was modest and the rain seemed to be slacking up. After re-grouping in Ponca, Lowryter and I pressed on the to the next rendezvous point and waited… and waited… and waited. Just about the time we decided to turn around the rest of the gang caught up. Something about a U-turn and the ensuing confusion that took a while to sort out. Those in the know will probably do that part of the story better justice, since I never witnessed a thing.
We stayed as a pack running down 21 to Clarksville – some great curves made better by dry roads and the occasional burst of acceleration. The cold temperatures continued (thank you Gerbings pants and liner) so when we arrived in Clarksville everyone was famished. A quick gas stop and off the to diner we go. We found this little truck-stop diner on the inaugural trip and it’s always been a favorite place to eat. You get your choice of meats and 6 sides… not 6 sides to choose from as “pick any two” – nope, you get all six sides including desert for less than seven bucks.
The hot food seemed to bring us back to life until it hit bottom – then yawns and discussions of naps started happening.Dutch checked on the troops and we decided to cut the route short by beelining to the hotel. Never fear though… this beeline would include the “lower” portion of 123 (from 21 to 7), which has been largely resurfaced and is decent shape compared to previous years. More great curves with the occasional one-lane bridge tossed in for effect. Speaking of effects - the slurry of water, gravel and mud flowing across the road at the top of a blind uphill curve will cause some unspeakable effects – another reminder to always keep something in reserve. We gathered again at 7 & 123/16 before making the last leg back. At the 123 Lurton cut-off a familiar site was replayed with John & I heading out, only this time ML decided to stretch his legs and join us. We still had some debris to contend with but the roads were dry and this time was much more enjoyable than just 24 hours earlier. Cutting the route short still netted 230 miles for the day.
It was nice to get back to the hotel a little early. Tired and cold ruled but somehow a second wind was found with the familiar “crack” of a pop-top and stories of what we’ve seen or missed. (Yes Virginia, cows can graze on a 45-degree slope). Several rounds later we headed to dinner at the “Front Porch” family restaurant where someone once declared "they have the best frog legs this side of New York". We sat there eating with the weather warriors overhead again making promises of good riding weather… yeah – right, I thought to myself. Our waitress was a hoot and cut us zero slack – turns out she was an identical twin to the restaurant owner (IIRC). Then the magic really started… Santa Dave brought Elly a present – what was it? Would it be good riding weather? We would have to wait until the morning – just like Christmas. A few more toddy’s at the hotel and we called it a night. Thankfully, our loud neighbors from the previous night had moved on. Saturday was right around the corner and I needed some rest.
By the time Saturday morning arrived I’d almost forgotten what blue sky and sunshine looked like but it was a welcome site. With the temperatures holding steady at 36 degrees we decided to take a long breakfast and trudged up the hill again. At least you can just roll downhill after you eat. Dutch again pondered over route changes to suit our later departure, hit some good roads and maybe even do a little action photography. Unfortunately, Dave wasn’t feeling real sharp and would become a game-time decision. Perhaps it was a frog leg kicking back or something but in the end (no pun intended) Dave opted out of Saturday’s ride. His goal (and a lofty one at that) was to toss back a few with us upon our return that evening. With that we saddled up and headed down (what else??) 123 for the third time in as many days.
Splitting the group up somewhat seemed to work pretty well. John & I ran the 14-mile stretch of 123 and doubled back to catch the group. Meanwhile, Dutch staked out a corner and allow us to make as many runs by his camera as we wanted.
It was great fun railing the same corners over and over knowing there are no real surprises – or at least knowing where the bad spots are. As is often the case, the photographer gets left out of the fun and by the time the rest of us realized he wanted a few pictures taken of him he’d packed up his gear. Sorry about that – next time you go first. Onward from there we attempted to track down Alum Cove recreation area. This natural bridge formation is tucked about 3 miles off of 16 near 7. Upon arrival it was clear we wouldn’t be hiking very far that day. The ice storm devastation was so bad they’d closed the park area. Trees and power lines were strewn about and it was going to be a long time before it re-opens. Back to plan “C” or “D” or whatever we were on – it pays to be flexible.Lunch in Jasper seemed to be a good idea and we ended up at the Ozark Café for some sustenance. The food was hot but the café was even hotter… we finally got some ceiling fans going and finished our meal – good food all around and another sure bet if you’re ever in Jasper. While eating, a three-wheeler went by I’ve never seen before – steering wheel, full fairing/body that someone will know the name of. Interestingly, the vehicle was purchased in Marshall, TX at H & W Honda. We never found the owner’s but it sure was interesting looking. After a quick gas stop and some calls to check on Dave (was hoping he’d meet up with us somewhere) we headed toward Push Mountain – the other curve Mecca. It should be noted that during the previous day, Lowrtyer was chewing through his rear tire at a pretty good clip. While heading to Push Mountain we stopped in Harriett to check the tire and it was not in great shape. With 80 miles to go and some fatigue setting in John made the call to head back to the hotel – and then there were five.
Push Mountain road was in fabulous shape – very little debris with the exception of some washout on the northern end switchbacks. We run this road 13 miles north of 14 and return back getting a double shot at perhaps the premier road of Arkansas. Usually this is pretty deserted, however this trip saw slow cars, 4 wheelers, pedestrians and other assorted distractions
– amazingly not a single deer was sighted. I ran ahead – got to the turn-around point and headed back going by the group. Figuring I could get a few extra curves I ran back to 14, turned around and took off again. Here comes Dutch… shortly, here comes ML… quite a bit later comes Elly and Skip so I turn around again. Here come Dutch doubling back… a real three – no five ring circus. We finally gather up at 14 and 341 only to find ML went on ahead to Yellville – and then there were four. Heading up 14 to Yellville I realize I’m wind-burnt and sun-burnt – maybe the clouds are good after all (real bad foreshadowing, folks) but it’s been a great day. The kind of day you’d like to have strung several together. Arriving at the hotel we find Dave feeling much better and ML has disappeared – seems like he just had to ride some more and headed toward the Bull Shoals ferry. My day (along with other’s) was done with 255 miles and thus we began cocktail hour. The two guys who trailered wanted to display their trailer savvy and refused any help loading the bikes but there are some things you just can’t refuse during cocktail hour(s) and that’s advice on how things should be done.
Needless to say the peanut gallery had their say – both bikes got loaded without incident and off for another round of (yup – you guessed it) cocktails. The good news is pizza can be delivered in Yellville – the bad news is you better be hungry early. Consuming three large pies wasn’t enough (so we thought) and ordering a fourth after the 8pm closing time cost us dearly. It’s about this point what happens in Yellville stays in Yellville but suffice to say cocktail hour(s) resumed. It was a great way to end a great day. Sunday came way too early and the weather warriors decided to get things right for a change – too bad they called for
heavy rain, lightning and a severe thunderstorm watch all along our return route. John was long gone with his trailer and truck before we awoke and ML bid us goodbye as the rest of us left at 8am. The first hour was dry but the rain started before we arrived in Marshall. We continued on 27 toward Russellville as the rain increased and lightning zipped across the mountainside. For the first time ever I was glad to see some straight roads just outside of Dover – nearly two hours of rain was tiring and we still had over 300 miles to go. Our gas stop in Russellville started to reveal weaknesses in our rainproof gear, which I discovered ain’t. The little pooling of water in the pants wasn’t a huge concern but the water filled boots downright sucked. Add to that the 43-degree temperature and you had the makings for a cold ride ahead. Nothing to do except keep pressing on – the grip heaters were working and I hadn’t electrocuted myself with the heated liners just yet so I figured I was better off than most.By the time we reached Mt. Ida all bets were off for staying dry. Elly and I both squeezed out buckets of water from our gloves alone. The leathers were getting heavy and there wasn’t nearly the amount of clever conversation being tossed around as the night before. Temperatures were slowly rising but the rain just kept on coming and didn’t start to taper off until we got off 27. Ironically, the rain actually quit just a few miles from where it started three days earlier. Dry roads and a “Welcome To Texas” sign as we crossed the Red River made a huge difference.
We said a few goodbyes in New Boston since riders would be heading different directions – Skip left in Winona, Elly in Big Sandy, Dutch at I-20, leaving Dave and I finish up the run to my house. I finished with 415 miles for the day and over 1,300 for the trip. Dave stopped just long enough to check the radar and all was clear. He decided to push on to Austin that same night and as he pulled out of my driveway the sun broke through for only the second time the whole trip. Everyone made it back safely based on the emails that trickled in – a hugely successful trip in spite of the conditions.I’d like to thank everyone for the fun and fellowship on this trip. Also, Dutch and John provided many great photos. Be sure to check out the video compilation slide show found HERE by Dutch. Thanks for reading… hope you enjoyed the ride too.
