The Grand Motorcycle Adventure

 

 

to Arkansas and back again
The Grand Motorcycle Adventure – to Arkansas and back again.

 

The plan was grand: three biker bums from the swamp known as Houston would round up a fourth from the plains of north central Texas and head into Oklahoma and into Arkansas across the famous Talimena Scenic Drive for 5 days of twisty road fun before heading home.  Eight days (27 May - 3 Jun 2007), 2400 miles (for the Houston bunch), with less than 5 miles on interstates – quite a plan!

 

The bikers and their rides:

 

But life gets in the way of even great plans – two of the Houston bums needed to be home on Saturday, June 2nd.  No problem.

 

8:00 AM, Sunday, May 27th Andy, James, and I met at the Burger King on Hwy 249 near Spring Cypress.  En route to Burger King, I noticed the rear left turn signal on The Taxi was not working.  A quick inspection revealed a crimped connection was loose – easily tightened with pliers. 

 

We departed Burger King at 8:40 AM, Taxi reporting 26,732 miles.  As soon as we pulled onto the access road, I noticed The Taxi was running on only one cylinder!  A quick inspection in the driveway of a Ford dealer revealed a vacuum line on the left carburetor had pulled loose.  Easily fixed – although quite vexing – and we were off!

 

A beautiful ride through the countryside brought us to Bryan, where the rain started falling.  We suited up and rode off into rain that was, at times, falling so hard I could not see more than 70 or so feet.  We rode on and The Taxi developed a surge – full power and then little power – back and forth; appeared when I switched to reserve.  The problem ceased after a fuel stop, but came back within 60 miles.  While riding with this problem, I pondered what the cause might be, and figured it might be the fuel line on the left carburetor, which was a bit too long and pinched as it turned down onto the carburetor.  I pushed on the fuel line to straighten out this pinch and the surging stopped!  I found a position that I could wedge the fuel line so it would stay un-pinched, and cut it to the right length at our next stop.

 

We stopped for lunch at a Subway in McGregor – where the sky cleared and roads dried up.  We crossed an intersection of Hwy 7, Bus 7 and another road numbered 7 and James made the comment that, perhaps, the 7s might signify the end of the rain.  It apparently did – we had clear skies and roads all the way to Randall’s house in Azle.

 

Tx 56 north of McGregor was a great road.

 

We arrived at Randall’s house at 4:20 PM, were warmly greeted and welcomed by Beverly.  Taxi recorded 27,072 miles – 340 miles from Burger King.  We headed to FBC Briar for an evening of Bible teaching and worship – it was nourishment for the soul.  Our bikes were rained on during church.  A great meal and fellowship with the Easter family finished the day, with much to be thankful for.

 

28 May: Now 4, we departed Azle at 8:10 AM heading north to Decatur – and rain.  Randall had a rain jacket but no rain pants, and got soaked.  East on 381 for many miles and I missed a turn onto 71 in Commerce, so we headed north to Paris.  It looked like the weather was clearing in Greenville, so we took our rain jackets off – and promptly ran into a downpour around the next corner.  We stopped under the overhang of a grocery store to put our rain gear back on.  We stopped for lunch at Applebees in Paris and James took Randall to Wal-Mart and bought him some rain pants.  The weather stayed the rest of the day – seemingly in deference to Randall now having rain pants.

 

We rode through east Texas up to Idabel, OK on through Broken Bow.  En route, we passed a store advertising “Donuts, Guns, Archery”.  We stopped outside of Idabel to check directions.  A couple with a canoe on their truck asked us where we going and told us which road to take to Broken Bow.  As I fetched a map to show this man where we were going, I inadvertently locked my keys in my trunk.  Huge bummer.  The fisher man had a nail and a hammer in his truck and the gang pounded the hinge pins out so I could retrieve my keys – took less than 10 minutes.

 

While on OK 144, we passed by a place called “Christ’s 40 Acres”.  A white dog with a blue bandana was apparently guarding the place.  As we passed on by, a small herd of goats ran across the road right in front of me.  I thought The Taxi was going to split the last goat in half, but he scampered across with mere inches to spare.  As Randall (who was brining up the rear) passed the dog, he – the dog – gave chase.  Randall was barely able to go fast enough to evade the dog J

 

Arrived at Robber’s Cave State Park at 5:30 PM, mileage at 27,456 for 384 miles traveled.  A thunderstorm welcomed us to our cabin.  After the rain, we went into Wilburton for dinner at Pizza Hut.  All the straws were cracked on both ends – useless.  James and Andy like anchovies! – Yuch.  Randall told me that he had considered the possibility of me having been killed in the goat herd, if things had unfolded just a bit differently, and he wanted to assure me that he was more than willing to preach at my funeral, if need be.  So gracious!  Randall asked the waitress why she had a tongue piercing – which she flatly denied, in spite of the spike in her tongue.  We picked up coffee pods at a grocery store and stopped at the Robber’s Cave on the way back to the cabin.  Nobody had a camera at the cave!  Bad form.  The cave was quite impressive – the only rock sticking up anywhere near and about 60 feet high at the top.  Lots of steps, narrow passageways, a couple of caves – lots of neat places for bad guys to hide out and keep watch for posses.  Randall stopped off at a church camp meeting on the way back to the cabin, reporting to us a sad misunderstanding of scripture by the fella talking.  Sadly, this is a common occurrence.  Ending mileage: 27,476.

 

Bible study was most beneficial, with my attention drawn to James 1:27 “Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.”  Let this be my prayer.

 

Tuesday, May 29: We departed Robber’s Cave State Park at 8:10 AM.  The skies were overcast but the roads were dry as we head off to the famous Talimena Scenic Drive.  No breakfast – just hittin’ the road.  A whine was heard from The Rocket, as Randall complained that he was cold.  Andy used duct tape and a rock to mount his digital camera to his dash and shot about 15 minutes of video.  We have clear evidence of Pastor Randall Easter pulling a wheelie as he pulled away from one of our stops.  (Note to self: this may be useful later.)

 

The Talimena Scenic Drive would have much more scenic if the weather had been clear.  But the road was fantastic, with many sweeping turns and a few tight ones.  We arrived at Queen Willamena State Park and found the snack bar without food and the restaurant too pricey.  On to Mena, where we found a great café with the best biscuits. Only problem was – we arrived near the end of the breakfast hour and they had made their last batch of biscuits for the day.  Our waitress pictured herself as a kindred spirit of the TV detective Monk.  James changed his order – she did not like changing what she had written down.  Randall wanted a second biscuit, but they were all gone and he was told he should have ordered two to begin with.  Oh, the agony!  Such great biscuits and no seconds.  To top it all off, we found out we had set ourselves down at “the liars table.” 

 

Off to Ozark, by way of Mount Magazine – the highest point in the state.  Some 40 miles from the mountain, we ran into rain and stopped on the side of the small road to change.  We happened to stop in front of a house and the people came out to see what was going on.  Randall and I were fortunate enough to be able to use their indoor plumbing – the coffee rental period had expired.  As we climbed up Mount Magazine, the rain turned into a cloud and we found ourselves riding at 2,753 feet in a cloud.  Couldn’t see more than 70 feet and I feared making an error and having my three brothers follow my tail light off the side of the mountain.  But we were careful and made our way through the twisties and found ourselves in the rain again as we cleared out of the cloud. 

 

The rain stopped soon after we were off the mountain and we had clear skies on to Ozark.  Checked in at the Ozark Motel (http://ozarkmotel.com)– Randall and I shared room 44 – but the numbers on the door were different fonts!  (should have taken a picture.)  Joan and Ron (the managers) are great people who love to have bikers stay at their place.  They have a Harley gas pump in the front lawn and the maid’s cart has a huge Harley logo on it.  And they are believers in the Lord Jesus, to boot.  Along the way, I nearly hit a dear and James claims I also hit a turtle.  A dog was chained up outside the motel, testing our patience.  My left rear turn signal quit working again – same loose crimp.  Fixed this time with vise grips.  As we made ready to ride into town for all-you-can eat ribs, Randall couldn’t find his keys; thought he left them in his ignition and some kids made off with them.  Looked through all his gear, everywhere he had walked, and finally found them stuck in the lock for the seat on The Rocket.  Whew!  As we mounted up for ribs, The Bus refused to start.  No fire in its belly – as the spark plug testified.

 

The kind folks at the Ozark Motel told me of a couple possibilities for technical help.  Hank’s Hot Rods, about 8 miles south of town, would be able to come out in the morning to take a look.  Andy was not willing to ride on the back of anyone’s bike, so we walked to a Tex-Mex joint nearby; bad mistake.

 

Wednesday, 30 May: Gary, from Hank’s, showed up at 8:00 – before Andy could eat his eggs.  He found fire going into the coil but not coming out – and he had no coil.  James and I rode into Fort Smith to the Harley dealer.  They did not have the coil in stock; could order it from Milwaukee and have it 10:30 Thursday morning.  Not many options, so we ordered it.  James had his drive belt lubricated, eliminating a whine that we thought was coming from the rider J  The kind folks at Old Fort Harley told James he needed a new rear tire (he did) and they could set him up for $160 plus $88 (installation) plus tax.  I knew of a motorcycle tire place near the motel and encouraged James to check them out.

 

GL Cycles, south of Ozark, did not have a tire to fit Short Bus – they are a metric shop.  But Gerald recommended we check with Steve’s Auto Tires in town, as Steve used to stock bike tires and owned a couple Harleys.  Steve had the exact tire Short Bus needed for $150 but was unable to take the wheel off Short Bus – that was a job for GL Cycles.  James could not bear to watch Gerald and team figure out how to remove the wheel.  But the wheel was removed in less than an hour and Gerald lent us his pickup to haul the wheel into town for Steve to mount the tire!  All for $40.  Great guys at Steve’s and GL; Ozark is very nice town.

 

James had some business to attend to on the phone, and was kind enough to allow Andy to ride Short Bus, so Andy, Randall, and I went to Riverside BBQ for the ribs we missed on Tuesday.  GREAT ribs and okra!  Randall was enjoying his dinner and reminding Andy that we missed out the all-you-can-eat special because Andy wouldn’t ride on the back.  Turned out a regular rib dinner was about all-you-can-eat anyway and we left the place very satisfied.

On to FBC Ozark for Wed night Bible study.  Randall had met Ted, the pastor, at breakfast.  Nice church, nice people.  Ted was teaching from 1 John 2:12 – 14 and was too fascinated with things occurring in “threes”, but was fairly sound.  Randall took lots of notes.

 

Thursday, 31 May: James decided to head home, as he wanted to be home early Saturday for some family activities.  Randall and I took highway 96 to Fort Smith – a most excellent (if bumpy) route.  We picked up the new coil and made it back to motel around 11:45.  The Bus still had no spark.  Gloomy news.  Randall decided to head home – via Mount Magazine (it was sunny).  Andy called the Harley shop and was advised to have The Bus towed in for diagnosis.  The tow truck arrived about 1:30 and after we loaded The Bus, I hit the road for a ride, aiming to meet up with Andy at Old Fort Harley later.

 

Starting mileage on The Taxi was 27,920.  I headed north from Ozark on highway 23, known locally as “the Pig Trail” because of the many tight turns.  Not much traffic made for an enjoyable ride.  I headed NW on highway 16 near St. Paul, toward Elkins.  Took local roads south and west winding over to West Fork – nearly hitting another dear and a mad squirrel that ran back and forth across the road in front of me.  In three or four tight turns, signs warned of “Narrow Bridge”, each of which turned out to be a metal grid decked bridge – not a good surface to be leaning over when you hit it.  I was able to straighten up enough to not loose my footing, but it sure did focus my attention.  From West Fork, I looped around to Devil’s Den State Park, over to Winslow and south on US 71 – a most enjoyable major highway – down through Ruby, on to the Harley dealer.  Arrived at 5:30, with 28,073 on The Taxi – a 153 mile ride.

 

The Bus was still in the shop, with no word on its problem.  Dinner from Sonic made things a bit better.  At 6:30 – the dealer closes at 6 PM – the service manager brought out The Bus – fixed!  A crank position sensor – tells the coil when to fire – was bad. 

 

The two remaining intrepid riders (that would be The Bus and The Taxi) left Old Fort Harley at 6:45 and headed off in sunny skies to Mount Magazine; our plan to get back on our route and start home.  The Mount was much better in sunshine (I almost ran over a rabbit); the air was crisp, cool, and clear.  At the bottom of the mountain, the air was warmer, heavier, and smellier.  We pressed on towards Hot Springs on highway 7 as the sun set.  Though we rode more than a hour in the dark, no critters were apparent.  Made it to Comfort Inn (free room, thanks to Andy’s business trips) at 10 PM at 28,234 miles for a trip of 161 miles; 314 on the day for The Taxi.  They allowed us to park the bikes on the sidewalk!  The ride through Hot Springs at night was very colorful and well lit, with many people profiling their wheels.  The town was making ready for a music festival the next week.  We found James (by phone) in Mansfield, LA – where he stopped around 4 PM.  Randall had left Andy a voice mail, his whereabouts and status unknown.

Friday, 1 June: The Comfort Inn had a free breakfast that included hot biscuits, sausage, and eggs!  We pulled away at 8:15 and headed south on 7 toward Louisiana.  As we swept down curvy roads, I spotted a group of 4 buzzards chowing on some road kill in the north-bound lane.  A car forced them up and away, with 3 heading east and one west.  The lone buzzard noticed his buds on the other side of the road and made a bee-line to rejoin them – taking him straight for my head.  At 65 MPH, I watched this large bird head for me and had no time to react.  He swept away from me with about 3 feet of clearance – with his 3 foot wingspan close enough to me to reach out and touch.  Too close.

 

Somewhere along the way, we got a bit carried away with the sweeping turns and found ourselves nearing 70 MPH (in a 55 zone) as we approached a small town – with a cop waiting for us near the bottom of the hill.  Bad feeling, knowing I had been careless and stupid and disobedient.  The police followed us into town but did not pull us over.  With a contrite heart and much thanks for that bit of grace, we proceeded – sticking much closer to the speed limits.  Along the way we passed a short bed tanker truck that had a crop duster helicopter (motor running, rotor turning) perched on top of it (on a special platform above the tank) being refueled.  Had to take a second look and almost left the road.

 

About a mile north of Camdem, on a hard left going under a train bridge, Andy dumped The Bus as he hit the turn a bit too fast (trying to keep up with The Taxi), went wide, and hit gravel.  Thankfully, Andy was wearing his leather jacket; that and his crash bars fulfilled their duties, keeping injuries to The Bus and rider to surface scrapes and a bent highway peg.  On to Camdem, a bit more cautious.

 

We stopped for lunch in Minden, LA – 352 miles away from home.  We pressed on, into Texas and south on state 87 from Center, through Hemphill – where we ran into 15 minutes of rain.  87 gets much better south of Hemphill – a fun ride with 70 MPH speed limit and sweeping turns you can take at speed.

 

Dinner at Catfish King in Livingston – not bad but not very good.  FM 942 is a great ride.  The tachometer light on The Taxi burned out.  As we rode from Livingston, toward home, the setting sun was shining through the clouds, showing columns of rain falling all around us – with clear skies and dry roads in front of us at every turn.  We arrived home (splitting up at Spring Cypress) at 8:40 PM – nearly 12.5 hours after leaving Hot Springs.  Taxi mileage stood at 28,775 for a last day trip of 541 miles.

 

Total miles on The Taxi: 2,043 for a daily average of 340 over 6 days.  All four riders made it home safely, with many good memories of great roads, a few trials, excellent fellowship, and growing friendships. 

 

James’ comments – “God made sure that we spent plenty of quality time together. Weather and mechanical problems provided enough adversity to get us to work together. This was a wonderful experience for me.”

 

Randall was uncharacteristically concise:  “I want it to go on record that the Honda did not break down, my name was Rocket.  The girl did have an earring in her tongue.  Harleys cost too much.  The numbers on the motel door were not the same.  Andy and James really do not like dogs.  The Mexican food was BAD, the barbecue was GOOD.  I did not get another biscuit (at the café in Mena), I do like scrambled eggs with cheese - tomatoes - and biscuits. Saved people do produce fruit, repentance is a way of life for the believer, and most importantly of all is that Christian brothers can have fun without all the things the world tells us that we have to have in order to have fun.  Thanks a million and may the LORD grant opportunity again in the future, perhaps after everyone upgrades to Japanese bikes!!!”

 

Andy observed that “this trip was filled with good fellowship & Bible study and that a rider ought to have a trunk full of spare parts as one never knows what might break down.” J

 

With thanks to our God for a wonderful week, the Captain’s Log is closed, looking forward to the next Grand Motorcycle Adventure.

 

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