ROCKETBUNNY

August 22, 2014 – Mountain Home, AR to Hope, AR – 400ish miles

The nice thing about using an onboard camera is that I never have to find a safe place to stop to capture an awesome curve. The not so nice thing about it is that when there are a lot of awesome curves, I end up with over 1300 pictures to sort through. Also, the Ozark Mountains are beautiful, sure, but the scenery sure doesn’t vary much. I have a lot of photos of the road curving through tree-covered hillsides.

I was up late last night finishing a book on my Kindle. I still felt tired as I started down AR-201 towards AR-341. Driving east in the morning can be painful.

Following some cruisers, I turned onto the famous Push Mountain Road. They were taking it really easy through the appetizer curves, so I soon left them behind. There were a few groups of riders coming the other way, but I mostly had the road and it’s glorious twists and turns all to myself.

Leaving Push Mountain behind, I turned west onto AR-14. The morning had started out crystal clear and very hot. By the time I reached AR-27, the clouds had rolled in over the highlands.

Oh look! Another of those signs!

Pretty wildflowers. Yellow predominated.

I followed AR-16 west across the Ozarks. Fewer tight curves, but plenty of scenery.

I’m getting quite the collection…

Reaching AR-7, I turned north to take in the views of the Arkansas Grand Canyon.

The Cliff House Inn was just a few miles north of the vista point. My other options being the odd roadside quilt shoppe and bait shacks, I stopped for lunch. Gazing out over the canyon while eating my “Company’s Comin'” pie, I thought back to the impromptu group lunch at this restaurant back during the 2007 ST.N National. Glory days.

After a rather intense morning, I was content to zone out on the hills and sweeping curves of AR-7 all the way back down to Hot Springs.

Friday afternoon in Hot Springs was the quietest I’ve ever seen it. I’ve done the baths tour several times now, so I just rode through.

Reaching I-30 just before 5pm, I decided to get ahead on my ride for tomorrow. The R1200ST capably ate up 50 miles of interstate, putting me in Hope, AR for the night.

August 21, 2014 – Arkadelphia, AR to Mountain Home, AR – 308 miles

Mmmmmmmmm. Yummy. Days like today are why I ride.

I had intended to start off this morning with 5 miles of slabbing down I-30 to get to scenic AR-8, but the gps got confused out of the parking lot and sent me up AR-7 toward Hot Springs. Baaaaad GPS.

But then it redirected me onto AR-84, a road I had never even noticed on the maps. Hmmm. Goooooood GPS.

I finally connected with AR-8 at Amity. This road was enjoyable, but a little busy for real fun.

At Norman, I turned off onto AR-27 and headed north.

Just a few miles before hitting I-40, I saw my first “crooked and steep” sign of the day.

I used I-40 to reposition myself at the southern end of the legendary AR-123 and stopped for lunch in Clarksville. Yelp pointed me towards another courthouse square BBQ place, Fat Dawgs. Much better than yesterday’s.

When I got back on the road at 1pm, the day’s heat had kicked in. I barely noticed, focusing instead on the twists and turns of the Arkansas Dragon.

I crossed a one-lane bridge.

This sign usually means good things ahead…

Scenic Views…

and, oooh! Switchbacks!

Just past Mt Judea I zigged west on AR-374. In Jasper I zagged back east on AR-74, ending up back on AR-123 only a few miles away from where I’d left it, but having enjoyed many more curves.

I was just south of Harrison, AR around 4pm. It may not have been quite as bad as a Houston rush hour, but there was a lot of traffic on US-62 toward Mountain Home, AR. I took a quick detour up AR-178 to see the Bull Shoals Dam, and then found my hotel.

August 20, 2014 – Houston, TX to Arkadelphia, AR – 458 miles

Late August would not typically be anyones first choice for a motorcycle roadtrip in the South, but when an avid sport tourer hasn’t been on a multi-day ride for over three years and grandma volunteers to take the 2.5 year old and 14 month old for a few days, one makes do!

After a lot of thought, I decided that Arkansas would be the best “bang for the buck”. I’d certainly prefer Colorado or north Georgia/Smokies, but I can get to Arkansas in one day without having to iron butt across west Texas or LA/MS/AL/GA.

This morning I gave the girls one final hug, wished my mother luck, and rolled out of the driveway.

A few miles later I was out of the cozy NASA bedroom community of Clear Lake and into the adjacent industrial area. Refineries and stinky chemical plants everywhere. Every time I go through this area on my way to east Texas, I hold my breath and wonder what horrors all these chemicals are doing to the children growing up nearby.

Finally out of Houston, I took I-10 east just far enough to get away from my usual day ride roads. I set off north west just in time to avoid Beaumont and beelined toward one of the more sport-riding friendly north/south roads in east Texas – TX-87.

As soon as I left the interstate, I got a harsh reminder that conditions on rural state roads can be unpredictable. The construction zone on TX-326 was signed as “loose gravel” and “one-lane road ahead”, but I think they forgot the “pavement ends” sign. Ugh. At least I was riding on nice stable dirt and not deep gravel.

The highway department responsible for TX-421 between TX-326 and US-96 is Very Proud of the curves along the road. Every little bend seemed to be signed “40 mph” both in paint on the roadway and in large warning signs. I slowed down for the first few, but then, disappointed, ignored the warnings and kept to the speed limit (around 60 mph).

On US-96 I enjoyed the antics of a crop-dusting plane.

I had only eaten a small muffin for breakfast, so I was very hungry when I arrived in Newton, TX around noon. I didn’t see many options around, so I whipped out my phone to take a look at Yelp. The only place that looked promising along my route was a tiny BBQ place on the courthouse square. Cash only, but at least it was fast and listening to the other diners was entertaining.

In my head, TX-1414 between Newton and Burkeville is supposed to be a fantastic road (for Texas). My memories didn’t hold up to the reality. There were a few decent curves, but nothing to get excited about. I’ll try to remember not to make a point of doing that road in the future.

On the other hand, TX-87 between Burkeville and Toledo Bend Reservoir is actually pretty nice. Plenty of good sweepers to enjoy between overtaking logging trucks.

Toledo Bend Reservoir

My fun for the day was over around 3pm when I caught up with US-59 in Tenaha, TX. I settled in for the 3 hour interstate and interstate-equivalent grind up to Arkadelphia. After checking into my hotel, I showered and walked to a nearby restaurant. It was BBQ again for dinner, followed by an Arkansas specialty – fried peach pie with vanilla ice cream!

Day 07
Friday, August 14, 2009
Front Royal, VA to Rocky Knob, Blue Ridge Parkway, VA
297 miles

I woke up with a huge feeling of eager anticipation. Today was the day the trip REALLY got started. I had 3 days of parkways ahead of me, some of it new territory. The bike was packed and before I knew it, I found myself stopping for a photo shoot at the entrance to Shenandoah National Park and Skyline Drive!

Starting to get hungry, I stopped at Big Meadows for another national park sticker for the ST and some food for me. After perusing the menu at the cafe, I opted for a take-out sandwich and bottled juice.

Half an hour later I was off the bike again, enjoying my lunch at a vista point.

On my way again, I crossed out of the national park and onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. I’d been a little concerned about getting confused at the exit, but the transition was seamless.

Out of the national park, the area immediately began to feel more inhabited. I occasionally saw farmhouses and fields through the trees. Still beautiful though…. and NOTHING like riding through towns and past billboards on a state highway.

I’d been eagerly anticipating spending the night at Willville Bike Camp, a motorcycle-only campground at the midpoint of the Blue Ridge Parkway. It had been a long day of riding and I was very ready to get off the bike and relax.

However, when I pulled up to the driveway to camp and saw that it was a steep gravel road down to more gravel and lawns, I twisted the throttle and rode right back on to the parkway. I’d remembered seeing a national forest campground about 10 miles back. I spent the entire ride trying not to speed and grumbling to myself about proprieters who call themselves “motorcycle-friendly” yet neglect to pave their cliff-like driveways.

Note: I realize that most motorcyclists don’t have this particular problem of mine and I’m sure the campground is very nice. I just wish it took into account vertically-challenged riders of heavy bikes.

On further thought, I suppose my previous day’s experience with the mud had given me more than my fill of uncertain surfaces.

Rocky Knob Campground turned out to be very nice, with a paved driveway, a paved campground loop, and even *GASP* paved campsite pull-ins.

Absolutely no cell phone service though. I set my SPOT to send the nightly sign-off and set up camp.

Day 06
Thursday, August 13, 2009
near Williamsport, PA to Front Royal, VA
272 miles

I’ve ridden in some pretty scary situations. I think the forty miles of snow back in 2004 is up there, closely followed by that snowy pass in Yellowstone and the endless gravel construction zone in 2005(?).

The two miles on that muddy dirt road eclipses them all.

Those with plenty of dirt experience are probably pooh-pooh-ing right about now. Mud isn’t a big deal, right?

Well, try it a few 1000 miles from home on a big heavy expensive touring bike!

I was in no hurry this morning, trying to give the road time to dry off. Scott and his mom were following me in the mini-van to make sure I had help if needed.

The first part of the road was mostly dry. I started out slowly but with a little confidence. I kept reminding myself to stay loose and look ahead.

I made it through the first little mud patch, but the rear end slid around and my feet went down reflexively. After a deep breath I continued, that familiar sick feeling in my stomach.

In the second mud patch, the bike went right, went left, and went down. Scott jumped out of the van and helped me off. I wasn’t injured and the bike didn’t appear to be damaged, but I knew that this wasn’t going to work.

After indulging in a nice little panic attack, I helped Scott pick up the bike. It was resting on the cylinder head and saddlebag, so not completely over, but the wheels kept sliding sideways in the mud. We took another break once it was upright and then began the slow process of pushing it the remaining mile or so to the paved road.

I don’t do well in bike-push situations (understatement). My sense of balance disappears and a constant fear of falling over manifests. We took frequent breaks and experimented with different speeds. I kept the ignition on to have access to the power brakes and tried to ignore the gnawing fear that the battery would be drained by the time we made it to pavement.

The 6″ deep sucking mud ruts finally gave way to graveled dirt. We rolled onto the chip-seal and parked the bike.

I stripped off my riding gear to dry off and catch my breath while everyone admired Scott’s muddy boots. A passing neighbor expressed astonishment that we’d gotten the motorcycle through the road.

After good-bye’s and profuse thank-yous, I started up the ST and shakily rode off.

I’ve found in the past that after a scary experience, it takes me a while to relax into the road. The steep pass over PA-487 through Ricketts Glen would normally be a fun experience, but I was too stressed out today. Orange construction signs on the Pennslyvania roads made me instantly tighten up. Happily, I encountered nothing more serious than loose gravel on chip seal.

In Sunbury, I treated myself to some iced coffee and a break before once again riding along the Susquehanna.

I finally began to relax and enjoy myself riding through Catoctin Mountain Park near Hagerstown, MD. There was scenery, curves, and lovely sunlight filtering through the canopy of trees.

I love stopping at historical sites. Earlier in the day I’d passed through Gettysburg and had been torn over whether to explore the battlefield (had visited on a family vacation several years ago). I ultimately decided to skip the already-been-there Pennsylvania battlefield in favor of a visit to Antietam in Maryland.

I had originally planned to camp that night in Shenandoah National Park, but found myself checking into a hotel in Front Royal, VA late in the day. I was aching for air-conditioning and just couldn’t face the additional 50 miles to the campground (assuming it would take hours on slow national park roads).

Days 04 & 05
Tuesday – Wednesday, August 11-12, 2009
near Williamsport, PA
0 miles

After a relaxing Tuesday morning, a group of us decided to spend the afternoon hiking in Ricketts Glen State Park. Scott’s mom drove us to the top of the canyon, promising to pick us up at the bottom in a few hours. The ~3 mile long hiking trail follows Kitchen Creek down a series of waterfalls.

That morning, we’d found construction equipment starting to grade the dirt access road to the house. Scott’s mother had struggled to avoid the loosened mud on one side of the road. Coming back through a light rain storm that afternoon, the equipment was gone, but so was that lovely hard packed dry dirt road. I tried not to think about getting the ST out of there.

The rest of the day was spent relaxing on the porch and walking around the property. As the sun set, we walked down to the nearby lake with fireflys flickering around us.

It rained that night. Hard.

On the following day, Scott took me out on the lake in a two-person kayak. We paddled along the dam, visited the beaver house, and plucked blueberries off bushes overhanging the water.

I kept hearing horror stories about the state of the road. Just before dinner, we drove out to survey the conditions. The road was mud. Most of it was relatively smooth, but there were a few places where the rain wasn’t draining well and several ruts were torn in by passing traffic. An alternate route through the fields was dry, but it was essentially a deeply rutted jeep trail with at least one steep hill. I was more worried about getting stuck in the woods than falling in the mud.

Day 03
Monday, August 10, 2009
Winchester, VA to near Williamsport, PA
235 miles

I was more excited than usual to begin my ride this morning. I had a little over 100 miles of interstate, followed by about two hours of local roads that I had high hopes for.

Back on I-81, I quickly passed through West Virginia and Maryland. Concerned about rain, I hadn’t mounted the camera. I stared ruefully at the “Welcome to” signs as they flashed by overhead.

Just before Harrisburg, I exited I-81 to ride north along the west bank of the wide Susquehanna River.

Unfamiliar with what I call “the roads paradigm” of the east coast, I wasn’t sure just how rural the area around the house would be. I was picturing the “few and far between” gas stations in some prime riding areas of California, Utah, and Nevada. Scott’s mother had given me the names of some towns near the house with gas stations, but I decided to stop early (100 miles out) to get lunch and fuel up. I was spending too much time watching my gas gauge and not enough time enjoying the road. I shoudn’t have worried. It turned out that there were little towns with adequate fuel availability all along the route.

From the road reviews I’d read while planning my route, US 220 was supposed to have been one of the better motorcycling roads in the area. There were some nice curves, but also lots of construction. Portions of the road were grooved and I was stopped a couple of times by flagmen.

The local roads close to Scott’s family’s house really shone. They dipped and curved over wildflower covered hillsides and through tunnels of trees.

I had been dreading the final approach to the house. Scott had warned me about the mile+ of hard packed dirt road that I’d need to navigate. Riding buddies know that I have an irrational fear of dirt and gravel roads. It had rained recently in the area, but the road was fine. I tried to relax, stay loose, and let the ST move as it needed to.

I ended up overshooting the driveway by a few feet, but Scott was sitting on the screened in sun porch and saw me arrive. He and his sister’s husband helped me get turned around and gave me a push to get off the dirt road and onto the gravel driveway. I parked the bike and unpacked, very ready to stop riding and relax for a couple of days.