Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
Adventures in Sport
Touring with the Honda ST 1100, 1300 and the BMW 1200RT
Exploring North America...One Road
at a Time
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Guy
Boutin's Motorcycle Touring and Travel Pages
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Day 1 Has it been a year already since my last west coast ride? Where does the time go? It only seems like last month I was motoring across West Canada to British Columbia. But today marks the beginning of another western tour, and I was fresh with anticipation at the adventure about to begin. I'm running one week later than usual this year. My son is in a wedding near Sacramento on the 26th, so I timed my tour so I could attend. Our across the street neighbors of 20+ years has a son marrying a California girl. I knew it would be nice if he had some Alabama folks on the scene for support. I fired up the 1300, and while it idled to operating temp I said my good byes to Debbie. I was going to be gone 3 weeks, the longest we've ever been apart. Initially she was going to fly out to Vegas for a conjugal visit, but changed her mind. She said she'd rather meet me up north in the fall. I hate this part of a long trip more than any other. I try to keep good byes short, but I wasn't able to this time. Gloved up and ready to go, I reset trip meter A to 0000, slipped the 1300 into first and pulled out the driveway and took a left toward the end of the street. I went to U.S. 31 North and followed it to I-65, where I did a quick head check at the north bound traffic as I came down the entrance ramp. A few cars were closing on me, but were no match for the 1300. I was at 80 mph and in the flow before they could get halfway to me. The air was so muggy and full of moisture it fogged the windscreen on the 1300. I'd never looked more forward to a trip than this one. The last couple of weeks were full of excitement as I made final plans. I was on the plane returning from the U.K. and wished I could advance time a few weeks. The U.K. was more focused, we had time tables and places to be. But this tour was just me and my thoughts. I was looking forward to the time alone to think about my recent retirement and if there were any other directions I needed to take my life. The Honda painlessly hummed north to Birmingham like it has so many times before. The fields and timberline were green from deep amounts of rainfall the last few weeks. Like usual, traffic backed up at the Alabaster exit. It was morning rush hour. I looked ahead and saw a long line of cars, 3 lanes across, NOT moving at all. I had to make a quick call. Take the Alabaster exit, and work my way across on surface streets? Picking up I-65 north of Hoover? I reasoned anything had to be better than this, so I bolted I-65. Apparently everybody had the same idea. The cities of Alabaster and Pelham were gridlocked, but I had no choice but to stick to my plan. I was waiting out a red light when a 18 wheeler driver told me a log truck had jack knifed blocking I-65. I finally made it to the needed exit and rejoined it. My wise guy idea failed to save me anytime. Coming through the city I saw a lady with the vanity tag "GDGFT," believe me, she was far from it. Downtown traffic was moving, and I peeled around the "malfunction junction," interchange to I-59 and Arkadelphia Road, otherwise known as U.S. 78 west. The riding today will not be good till I reach the Ozarks. I knew that. This was basically a gas and go day to get somewhere. I was dreading the ride to Memphis. I've done it many times, and never really liked it. The first 2 days of this tour are basically the same as 2002. I passed a naked bar on U.S. 78 near Summiton. It was called the "Boobie Trap." West of Jasper I took my first break of the day. I had bought a Rubbermaid box thing and stuffed it with 6 slices of bread. I put a few plastic knives in it, and bought a jar of "Goofy Strawberry Jelly and Peanut Butter" premix, and placed it all in the left saddlebag. I had to go without my PB and J sandwiches in the UK, and wasn't going to have that problem this tour. My plan is to get on the road early each day, knock down a couple hundred miles, then eat a sandwich in front of some con store. Peanut butter in small quantities is good for you. The monosaturated fat it contains helps prevent heart disease. It has ample amounts of protein your body needs to rebuild after hard training. The bread and jelly are pure carbohydrate for clean burning fuel. It fills you up and doesn't slow you down with artery clogging fat, and hard to digest animal protein. I eat one or 2 a day, to help fuel my training, they work great. Lance Armstrong and I are addicted to them. I also picked up a few cans of sliced chicken. Now, if I find myself in some remote campground, I'd always have something to eat. I went inside and bought a diet Mountain Dew and then made my sandwich. My system worked great. I sat on the curb and enjoyed the morning while I ate, and contemplated the trip ahead. Such tours can be imposing if you look at the entire trip at one time. I focus on each day, and take it from there. I tried to call Uncle Phil but for some reason it failed, even though I had just finished a conversation with my wife. A few minutes later a man came out of the store and said,- "looks like you have it made." "Well I can't complain." "not much in Walker county huh?" "nah, but I'll say this, y'all got the best name for a naked bar I've ever seen." U.S. 78 turns 4 lane out of Jasper and the pace picked up. I kept my speed down thinking about that poor joker from Florida who got busted for doing 90 mph last year just a few miles ahead. He was a good rabbit while it lasted though. I crossed over into Mississippi and and rolled toward Memphis. It was getting warmer so I trimmed the screen further down to move some air. A fire company was battling a car fire just east of Memphis. They had just arrived on the scene, and the engine compartment was well involved. I'd stop and help out, but it was hot and I'm retired boys. At last a few rabbits blew by and I was able to pick up the pace into Memphis. The city was hot and crowded. A busy intersection had the quickest light I'd seen in a long time. It was only green long enough to let 2 cars out of 50 through. I wanted to tell the joker at the front to have his foot on the accelerator drag car style, thinking the gesture might let 3 get by. I-240 is the perimeter freeway for Memphis, and I took it to I-40 and crossed the Mississippi River into Arkansas. By now the riding was downright boiling. Temp gauge recorded 93 hot and humid degrees. The Roadcrafter was warm, and I moved my arms up and down to circulate air through the garment as best I could. I trudged along I-40. Traffic was moderate, and thankfully flowing along at 10 over. I knew in my mind Little Rock was a long way off, it always is when I come this way. Uncle Phil comes this way often on his west coast rides, and I wondered to myself how he does it. He once returned from the Hotel California on this interstate in 2.5 days. I've only been on it 2.5 hours and it was killing me. At least most of the construction I first encountered in 2002 was completed. In Albany I pulled off and ate lunch at a McDonalds. I try not to eat fast food but figured correctly it might be unavoidable on tour. I choose the lesser of the evils-two small hamburgers. They are mostly bread, and very little meat. I had 3 cups of Diet Coke and checked the weather on a overhead tv. A local cop was eating ice cream a few tables away. I called Uncle Phil, and got a weather report. He said there were showers in the Tulsa area, which probably meant it was going to rain in the Ozarks tonight. When I asked him if he thought I could beat the rain to the Ozarks he said, " Yes, but don't fool around. It's a big storm and moving fast, but still has a pretty good ways to go to get there." I figured I could reach the campground, set up camp, and sleep while it passes over. All I wanted to do was reach the exit for the Ozarks. I literally HATE riding anything that looks like a interstate, but I couldn't see the point in riding back roads in this part of the country and adding a day. I've been on most of the roads in the region, and there was nothing new for me to find. At last Little Rock appeared and I felt like I was getting somewhere. I went out the west side into a afternoon sun. A couple of east bound sport bikes went by, but they failed to return my wave. Maybe they didn't see me. The temp had climbed to 95 and the humidity stuck to the ground like summer dew. I knew from past experience the Eureka Springs area was almost 700 miles from home, but I kept hoping maybe I was mistaken and it was only 500, because that was what the trip meter was showing for the day so far. In the late afternoon I finally arrived at the SR 23 exit. YES! I veered off and left I-40. I won't be back on another interstate, till Arizona or California. I felt good about that. My reward for almost 600 miles of slab was SR 23, what a great road. The riding improved 100% as I followed 23 into the Ozark hills. The roadside was thick in lush green landscape. The highway reminds me of East Tennessee the way it bent me around the curves. For this tour, I had trimmed the load of the 1300. I was able to phase out one of the top bags I use to carry, and the left saddlebag was almost empty, except for peanut butter and jelly, a few gloves, and jacket liner. Even with my tent inside the right bag, it still had room to spare. The bike was handling much better. I had also tightened down on the preload. I now fall in the in between category of trip packers. I carry a little more than I need, but not all that I want. If I find I've left anything essential there was always Wal Mart. I whistled through the valleys at 70 mph and held fast in the curves. It was fun. I spent a lot of time in the shade and the temp dropped 15 degrees.
People in this part of the country take a lot of kidding about being hillbillies. Some play it to their advantage, and use it to generate business. A road side attraction called the Hillbilly Cabin caught my attention so I doubled back to check it out. I went in the drive way and rode up to the porch where I saw about a hundred business cards stuck in the screen door. I stuck a BamaRider card among the group and continued my ride. I wanted to let them know I had been here and was currently loose on the land.
The Honda passed a few cars but traffic was not what I would call bad. The route is twisty over the hills and back down, then evens out for a few miles as I crossed the valley to the next set of curves. A few lakes came and went, and I saw kids in cut offs diving in having a big time. Old barns and farm houses dotted the area, and horses often stood at attention when they saw me come by.
Road surface was excellent. As good as West Virginia and Tennessee. The 1300 held a good line in the tight curves coming at me. Because I have a tendency to hug low, I can't see well into right handers. That's ok, I prefer not having to worry about a stray car coming over rather then how soon I can see the exit point. I'm not riding fast enough to worry about how good I look anyway. In Huntsville I pulled into a busy con store and bought a Mountain Dew, they had no muffins so I ate some fat free fruit candy. I was sitting in the booth when a boy came in to chat with his girlfriend/ clerk. Their conversation changed when a cute blonde they both knew entered. The boy said- "I wanna hug, ain't seen ya in a long time." "noway, you're sweaty." "aw c'mon it ain't that BAD" He kept on till he finally got one. He was pitiful and desperate with his pleas. This made his girlfriend mad. I guess the kid just didn't know any better then to flirt with his girl present. With not far to go, I saddled up and headed toward Eureka Springs and the Iron Horse campground. (motorcycle only) I stayed there in 2002. It was a nice place, too close to U.S. 60, but I'll make do, the sites are cheap. The riding and leaning were good all the way to Eureka Springs where I took a right turn on U.S. 60. Menacing clouds were off to the west. I sped the final 10 miles into the campground and parked outside the office of the Iron Horse. I stepped in but couldn't find anyone and despite my knocks on the desk, no one appeared from the back. A cat layed on a chair, his tail flicking in all directions. A sport bike was parked outside one of the motel rooms, and 2 Wings were a few doors down. A lady came from behind the motel and said, " Can I help you?" "yes, m'am I need a place to put my tent." I had just completed a 674 mile day. In exchange for 10 dollars I received free towels, rags to wipe the 1300 and a tent site. I went around the campsites before choosing one near the same place I used in 2002. Rain was definitely to the west, but I got my tent up in time. While unpacking I noticed I forgot my atlas. No big deal, I'll drop by Wal Mart and pick up one for 5 bucks. I took out my Plexus and cleaned the screen and fairing, it became a everyday ritual. Because a storm was closing in I had a internal debate on whether to ride the 5 miles into Berryville for something to eat, or eat a sandwich. I wanted pizza from the Pizza Hut I knew to be there. I stopped at the office to drop off my towel, and the nice lady said- "Guy, a storm is coming this way, I'm gonna leave room 6 open for ya if it gets too bad." "Thanks, I'll keep that in mind baby, you're too sweet." The 5 mile run into Berryville went quick and I plopped down in the Pizza Hut. I had a good trip in 2002 when I ate my first road meal here, so did the same tonight to bring good luck. I don't do pizza anymore, as much as I love it, but I'll make exceptions when I'm on tour. What is life if I never ate pizza? I ordered a small personal pepperoni, it was delicious. I called my son and wife while I was waiting. Just as I was finishing, I took a glance to the sky in the west. It was very dark, and clouds were hanging low. I could see the wind bending the trees, and leaves swirling everywhere. I sat tight. No need to try for the campground, nothing but rain back that way. A fierce storm blew in, and lightening bolts lit up the sky. Thunder shook the building several times. This was the kind of storm likely to drop tornados. Large raindrops hit the ground hard, and a real fear of a hail storm overcame me. The 1300 sat in the parking lot wide open to the elements. If it hailed it was going to be toast. It rained and rained, and I passed the time sipping diet coke and playing on my handheld. After 1.5 hours it slowed to a drizzle, so I set off walking to the nearby Wal Mart. I asked the cashier to watch my helmet that I'd be back in 15 minutes. "Sure, no problem." I was walking across the parking lot when the weather siren went off. It scared the crap out of me. It was right behind the store, talk about LOUD. Still, patrons went about their business like it was just another day. I found a Rand Mcnally and a bag of twizzlers. The rain was gone when I came back out. It was dark now, and I gathered my gear for the short ride back to the campground. I was praying my stuff was still going to be there, and not blown all over the Ozarks. The road was dark and my lights reflected off the standing water on the shoulders and driveways. I was glad it was a short ride. I turned into the campground and went around back where my lights confirmed my tent was still up. YEAH. While squaring my stuff away, I could hear another storm approaching in the distance. If it was anything like the first I didn't need to be in a tent. I picked up my bags and scrambled to room 6. Just as I closed the door the bottom fell out again. I turned on the TV and the weather guesser said a tornado had touched down just north of my location and damage was unknown. Dayum. This storm was not as fierce or as long as the first, it was over in 15 minutes. I knew the storms were probably proceeding a cool front out of the west. Which meant once it passed over the climate will be cool and dry. I've been around enough to know when cool hits hot, bad stuff happens, but calmness returns once the front pushes through. I was right. The local guessers said weather was excellent on the other side. Cool and low humidity, which translates into excellent riding weather. So, there I was, in a motel room, for a tent price. I took a shower, and placed my notes in the arm map for tomorrow's ride. The first day was over, and now I was ready for some serious riding. I'll be shooting for Meade, Kansas, tomorrow on the back roads. In 2002 I went in through Oklahoma, but this time I'll shoot north for Kansas after getting out of Bentonville. I thought about how the first 1.5 days of this years ride is a rehash of 2004's last day. All along this tour I will recognize places and roads from previous trips. I've been doing this long enough it was easy for me to come across places, I've been before. Tomorrow I begin a 2 day ride across the Great Plains. Most don't like riding the Plains but I find it peaceful and thought provoking. I was looking forward to seeing its towns and meeting a few people. Lights went out about 12am, and I feel asleep quickly, glad to have the first day in the book. Next: across Kansas and the Plains
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