The Photo Dump...

 I take a lot more photos than I post throughout my travels. Here are some of the ones I thought you might want to see, if you actually made it this far! LOL

Weird greeting when I checked into my room in Wilmington. Creepy.

This dam was being upgraded. There was a one way traffic light that people either ran or barely stopped at!

This is Ron, a railroad worker between assignments, that I visited with during dinner one night.

My Kid. Probably posted this but I am old and can't remember everything! hahaha!

Life is not tried, it is merely survived, if you're standing outside the fire...

 Country singer, Garth Brooks, recorded a song in 1993 that I somewhat felt was sort of an anthem to the life I have lived. Although it talks about love opportunities lost, it could also be applied to life's opportunities not taken. And so, for me, this trip was my fire. I was so very fortunate that I was not injured worse in my bike

accident last July (19th to be exact, but who is counting...). I am, in all honesty, quite angry that I feel like I lost a year of opportunities to live life to the fullest. As I age, I know these opportunities are fleeting moments in time that I will not be given a chance to make up. But mixed with those frustrated feelings are the realization that I am quite fortunate, if that's what we shall call it, for having lived and not been injured worse. 

So with all this turmoil stirring my soul, I felt compelled, no, more like strongly obsessed, with making another trip. I needed to do this for myself. And whether I did the same trip wasn't so important as swinging my leg over the Road Queen, packed up, and hitting the road. Meeting people I had never met. Going to new places. 

And, most importantly, seeing my Kid marry her soul mate. 

The ride home was, quite frankly, torture. Although I absolutely love seeing America on the two lane back roads and experiencing the small towns and the people who make this country awesome, the weather SUCKED. I did as much two lane as I could until, finally, like a poker player holding a losing hand, I acquiesced and started seeking the easiest way to the interstate. I just wanted to go home. I was so tired of rain. 

I want to tell you what I did see that should make everybody think about our weather and hope this is not a pattern we will be dealing with more. On the road south from the Kid's place, remnants of mobile homes were scattered across the highway. The travel path was cleared, but

the carnage was clearly an indication that people's lives would not be the same moving forward. And then, as I pulled into Selmer, TN on my way home, the path of a tornado was glaring. Some buildings were totally demolished, some missing roofs or whole sides of them. And my heart aches for those individuals who were facing the challenges of picking up the pieces of their lives, Rain and tornadoes can clearly affect us all sometimes. Be kind and generous to those who suffer mother nature's wrath. Life isn't fair. Help people know that somebody cares. 

Life is what we make it. Don't stand outside the fire. 

Peace and Love,

Bobbi

Life at So Live So Ride, my temporary home away from home...

A little sunshine while working on my blog....

 

A dry sunset - the white tube is a wind speed measure

Figuring out riding routes

Tent Camping Area - really cool back there!

Dustin sizing up the Road Queen

My "neighbor" Frank's 800CC Triumph Tiger

Dustin out working on his lesson plan

Frank, from Huntsville, Alabama

Kate, Frank and Dustin

Frank heading home

Working on the blog, listening to the rain

Peace and Love,

Bobbi

Rain, Rain and Rain (with some fog mixed in...)

When the Kid told me their wedding was scheduled for May 17th and that she would like me to ride the

Breakfast Yummies

Road Queen down for the wedding, I warned her that the weather in May can be quite unpredictable. That we could, conceivably, even get snow in Ohio that time of year.

Fortunately, that reality eluded me prior to my departure and the Kid and Kevin were blessed with a beautiful, sunny day for their nuptials. Not so fortunately for me, the weather following my departure from their home in Illinois has not been nearly as perfect. In all honesty, rain in northern Arkansas in May is sketchy. I packed tank tops that have only seen the inside of a long sleeve shirt or jacket and shorts that have primarily been utilized for jammies. Sandals have been sentenced to bath house attire instead of camp fire  gear once settled in for the evenings. The radar reports have been of questionable decency and I have come to the realization that suiting up for rain on every ride is the most prudent approach to reality this time of year here. 

Yesterday was no exception. Early in the morning, I ran into Clarksville, 16 miles south of the campground, and did laundry. I was pleasantly surprised to locate a nice little place next door to the laundromat that served breakfast and featured some very yummy looking pastries. By the time my laundry was done, it was, of course, raining. I returned to camp and conferred with Dustin, one of our hosts, about the possibility of a ride. The general consensus, after looking at the radar, was that a ride to the south would probably be a safe bet to avoid another soggy ride. So I headed towards Mount Magazine, about 55 miles south. The ride started out pretty good, warming up enough for several riding apparel adjustments to meet the temperature rises. However the closer I got to route 309, the road to the state park, the temperature dropped and additional riding apparel adjustments in the other direction ensued. About a quarter of the way up, a heavy, thick fog surrounded me, with visibility down to about ten feet in

My bike is in this photo!

spots. I passed a "watch for bears" sign and thought, great, I am doing about ten miles per hour and there are bears here??? WTF! 

About halfway up the mountain, a light rain began to fall and I was now moving in and out of fog and rain. About a mile or two from the visitor center, mother nature cut lose and a downpour ensued. I mean, it was a torrential rain and it was all I could do to find the driveway entrance to the visitor center! between the rain and fog. All I could think of was, don't drop the bike or you will be a bear's next meal! 

I took the first parking spot I could find at the visitor's center and sloshed my way under the canopy. I tried to pull up the radar but cell reception was not existent. So I did the tourist thing and enjoyed the dry and warm exhibits in the center to give the wrath of nature an opportunity to pass by. While I was mentally regrouping for the ride back down the mountain, a guy on a bicycle, yes, like the kind you pedal, pulls under the canopy. He had ridden his bicycle up the mountain, with the same conditions I had just encountered and said, "It wasn't supposed to rain here." I told him, yeah, I got the same weather report...

I enjoyed some of the exhibits in the center until it appeared the weather was clearing. The bicycle dude was already gone by then. I changed gloves, wiped off my helmet visor and windshield, and headed north, back down the mountain, towards Paris, Arkansas. And that's when the next wave of heavy rain hit. Fortunately, a pick up driver behind me must have understood the challenges of riding a motorcycle in those conditions and remained a fair distance back, giving me at least a small peace of mind.

Upon arriving in the city of Paris, I found the main street coming into town to resemble more of a lake that a street. Apparently their either was no drainage system or it was severally plugged, and I had literal waves cresting around my bike and water splashing up to my knees working my way through the deluge! 

One final stop in Paris along the way to, once again, change gloves, wipe off my helmet visor and

windshield, do a map check and I was off to Ozone and the campground. I arrived about fifteen minutes ahead of another guest who had done a similar ride and we exchanged stories, including having seen the same bicycle rider along the way, in the rain and fog! 

Our hosts were kind enough to loan me their boot drier as my leather riding boots were soaked through and my socks were like wet rags. I spent a long time in a hot shower defrosting. And I lived again, to once more, tell another fascinating story about the joys of two wheel adventures!

Peace and Love!

Bobbi

Arkansas Hospitality at it's Finest

 Although I have been a guest in Arkansas numerous times, both with

my Buffalo and solo, I am always glad to find out that the people who call the Arkansas Ozarks home are still the kind of people that exemplify what is good. I am not sure exactly how I came across the So Live So Ride Moto Ranch and motorcycle campground in Ozone (population of 92 per the 2020 census) when seeking out lodging for this

current adventure. But I have been more than pleasantly surprised and pleased both with the accommodations and the hosts' hospitality. Located on a winding two lane Arkansas SR 21, the hosts offer adventure riding courses and rides as their primary business model. But don't let that sway you from enjoying their facility if you are purely a

street rider preferring to camp or Glamp. Because Kate and Dustin have lived that lifestyle also. They love motorcycle adventures of all types and have spent time sharing their stories as well as listening to those of their guests.

I originally reserved a tent spot, however with lingering issues from last year's unfortunate meeting

with a pickup truck, I wasn't sure that sleeping on a pad was going to work for me right now. So I upgraded to one of their "tent cabins" - or what some folks refer to as glamping. Their tent cabins feature a very comfortable bed with bedding (including an electric blanket this time of year, when the temperature at 1880 feet above sea level can vary), lightning, plenty of electricity, excellent wifi, and

Dustin on his BMW

 motorcycle oriented storage options. Oh yeah, and a fan also for when the temperatures preclude the electric blanket necessity. 

There are two private bath houses that are huge, with towels, soap, hair products, a laundry sink, and a nice clean shower. 

Every morning, Kate was in the gazebo with a pot of hot coffee and company to start the day. Kate and Dustin know the

Kate on Dustin's bike (hers is getting some TLC)

 area well and are great for   recommendations on rides or   services. (More on that in another   post...)

I won't discount this little slice of heaven that I love so much by saying "If" you decide to visit Arkansas on a motorcycle, but rather "When" you decide to explore what the Arkansas Ozarks have to offer, don't hesitate to stay at So Live So Ride. I am positive you won't be disappointed. Here is a link if you would like to learn more about their place:  So Live So Ride

Peace and Love all. 

Bobbi

PS: Bath House Pictures...

 So, what do you do when I home town rider shows up where you are vacationing on their

bike? Duh, you hook up for a ride, of course!

My wind sister from Ohio, Nikki Dotson, was traveling through Arkansas on her way home from picking up her bike in Wyoming, where she left it last year. How Arkansas is some how "on the way home" to Ohio remains to be seen, but it worked out for the best. And she brought a long her riding buddy, Bob. 

We hooked up at what I would guess is probably one of the most yuppie Harley Davidson dealerships this biker trash has ever walked into. Upstairs, they have a biker lounge, complete with a pool table and massage chairs, along with other stuff. A view of the sales floor is off the side in one direction and a view of their full mechanic shop is off the side of the other direction. 

The folks working there were very nice and helpful, helping Bob set up his GPS on his foofoo dresser while Nikki and I actually figured the route via a cell phone (Nikki) and an Atlas (me, as in this old lady). After a quart of oil, we were off for a short ride before the two of them had to point their front wheel towards home.

And it would have been so much more comfortable had Bob's GPS not lured us onto an unmarked route that was sketchy, at best. Fortunately, for Bob's sake, we wound up finding a highway and were able to make our way to a late lunch, where we parted ways. 

What a cool mix to my adventure, hooking up with Nikki and riding and hanging out for the day. Life is good. 

Peace and Love all.

Bobbi

MORE DAM PICTURES

 

Finally In Arkansas ... My Absolute Favorite Place!

There was a time when my Buffalo and I dreamed of returning to Arkansas to retire. We fell

in love with the Ozarks, the people, the kindness and friendly atmosphere and, oh oh oh, the absolutely awesome motorcycle riding roads. Every road north of I40 is a motorcyclist dream. Twisty, winding hilly roads that were created for two wheel adventures. Sometimes you ride for miles without seeing another vehicle. Gas stops can be few and far between. But stop on the side of just about any road alone on your bike and some local, usually not a motorcyclist, will stop to make sure you don't need help. 

Shoot, often several people will! I came to believe, long ago, that Arkansas Ozarks are still what all of America once was. And so did my Buffalo. And so, I have returned here every opportunity that affords itself, to bury my soul in this heart of the country I so love and the people that define it.

I came into Arkansas on this trip through Mammoth Springs. I don't recall ever being in this little slice of heaven, and the visitor center and park were what defines the welcoming culture of a town. The town is home to what once was a power generating damn and is now a waterfall and lake, the generating facility having been retired. But what really excited me was how the generator room has been meticulously preserved, with a plethora of educational information about the facility that once operated

there and how it worked. Any electrical or utility geek will absolutely love this place. Yes, there are a lot of others across the country, but this was just so beautiful outside, having been repurposed into a lakeside park, with a waterfall. It was my first stop in the state. And it reminded me of just why I prefer to travel solo. I had the time to stop and take in the information. Nobody to hurry me back on the road or pressure me for time. 

And, as always, moments like this make me miss my riding partner, because he loved this dorky stuff too! LOL - But, alas, I am dragging you along for the ride. Thanks again for the company.

Peace and Love.

Bobbi

What Else Could Possibly Happen when I am OTR?

 Hey peeps! Tuesday morning I headed out towards Arkansas. I ran Illinois Route 3 along the Mississippi

River, stopping along the way to do the tourist thing because I was now in pure road trip mode. I hit a couple of those goofy Historical Marker places many people pass up to learn more about the area history. The first one was quite fascinating. 

I am sure that few know of this part of American history and what was called the American Bottom. Route 3 runs parallel to the Mississippi River and I ran it until the turn off for Cape Girardeau, crossing into Missouri. The road was void of motorcycle travelers, being a week day before Memorial Day. As most of you know, I usually hold off on my road trips until mid to late June, when the weather is more conducive to two wheel travel. Along the way, I encountered remnants of mobile homes scattered across the highway, indicative of heavy winds or possible tornado activity recently.

My intention was to make my way to Poplar Bluff, Missouri, about fifty miles west of US 55, then check into a hotel for the night. The sky was a bit cloudy, but nothing too

threatening until I pulled out of Sikeston on Route 60. The cloud cover turned menacing quite quickly, and I was hoping to make the next town along the way to suit up for the weather... but alas, I failed my mission. What started out as a sprinkle morphed into a torrential down pour and I was soaked in minutes without any place to take cover and suit up. With flashers on, I muddled my way to Dexter, about 20 miles from Poplar Bluff, under the awning of a gas station to either change or wait it out. I had not snow sealed my boots before this trip so the water soaked through to my socks, my pants were drenched. Stupid ME! I had rain pants and a full face helmet that I didn't have on, gallantly believing I could beat the weather, watching the bursts of lightning around me and getting soaked. What a moron! Ugh!

In Dexter, as I watched the radar move the menace past my spot, I called for a lodging reservation at the

Bullwinkle Rustic Lodge in Poplar Bluff. Eventually, Mother Nature rested and I headed towards to Lodge and a room with a jacuzzi. A measly 200 mile ride and I was exhausted. 

Tomorrow, Arkansas. Weather looks hopeful and my spirits are improving. Maybe another dip in the spa before check out.  Life is good. I am alive and able to do this. And, once again, I am blessed to have you along for the ride.

Peace and Love.

Bobbi