Motorcycle Friendly Country? Head for the Hills!
*Things Do Not End, Things Change* The email from Dave Cwi (famous as _Dancin' Dave, The Mileage Slave_ in the _BMW Owners News_) announced a Raider Ride (http://mileageslaves.com/Raiders.htm ) through the Arkansas Ozarks for the end of August. A couple of days later, some more emails, and I am to start a new job the last week of August! A Raider Ride over the weekend will set the stage for my first day on the job bright and early Monday morning. Now what could be a better finale for the Breakout Summer! *Final Preparations* Serious riding calls for serious preparations, so two weeks before the _Raider Ride_ I take that closer look at the RT. The tires have taken a real beating this summer which puts me in front of the computer looking for replacements. Eureka, Pilot Roads at a bargain price! I enter my order and start lining up motel rooms in the Ozarks. Then the emails start up again: my tires have been backordered, the next best vendor does not seem to be able to process my order, another vendor accepts my order but cannot verify shipping, and so on. Finally, with only a couple of days left I find a nail in the rear tire, and a firm expected shipping date that sets tire delivery for the day I had intended to leave for Arkansas! Now there is no time to schedule the service at either of my nearest dealers, Bogart's or Bloodworth's. In a tight spot, I know that I can find help within the club: I beg long time Guzzi rider and friend, John Zibell's help and he agrees to bail me out, as he always does. The tires will be drop shipped to his house and we will mount them after he finishes work that day. Only one day behind schedule, I am heading west on highway 72 the next morning. *Truly Motorcycle Friendly* Crossing over the Mississippi River into Arkansas I stop at the first rest area. Soaking up the cool air in the "Welcome Center" the attendant notices my riding gear and the boxer sitting in the parking lot. "Are you on a motorcycle," he asks? Small talk leads to his laying out a non-interstate route across the state, and his handing me a booklet on "State Recommended Motorcycle Rides" in Arkansas. Now that is a welcome I like! A little over three hundred miles of US Highways later I cover fifty miles of Interstate 40. Boredom is finally broken about 15 miles after taking the exit on to Arkansas State Highway 7. I had been tipped off that the road was locally called Scenic Highway 7, but was not prepared for the enjoyment to follow. On my right stands a huge sign that reads, _"Extremely Crooked Road And Steep Grades Next 53 Miles."_ Talk about anticipation, this is the Arkansas I had hoped for! Thirty-six miles and ninety switchback filled minutes later, the Arkansas House bed and breakfast stands in the middle of Jasper, Arkansas. Arkansas House is run by a very interesting couple who are dedicated to all natural foods and medications. Hill country hospitality with a wraparound balcony usher me into my room for the night. I will say that the complementary all natural soda was refreshing after a 500 mile day. Now this is touring! Dinner that night was at another B&B perched on a high mountain cliff. The view from their dinning room could only be described as dramatic. Our small group of five riders was from four different states so dinner conversation was filled with the diverse tales of the road usually only found around a rally campfire. Trading the campfire for an excellently set dinner table lost nothing in the transition. As we finalized plans for the next days ride there were no doubts that this would not be the finest of weekends. *Eureka, It's Eureka Springs!* Arkansas has figured out that motorcyclists are a vast, untapped market. From the attendant at the "Welcome Center" to local merchants along the back roads, there is a sprit of welcome you can feel at every turn. The days of treatment like that shown in the final scenes of _Easy Rider_ have been replaced by ones with outstretched hands each time you lower your side stand. Even the state government takes a positive role. The roads in Arkansas follow the same model as most agrarian regions, they are well maintained and provide access to settled pockets of remote farms in the less densely populated areas. In short, they are great for motorcycle touring! The state's official website even suggests slower vehicles move aside to allow faster motorcycles to pass on their mountain roads. That was what was laid before us as we headed through Lil' Abner country. Eureka Springs here we come. Our planned day's route was comprised of two recommended "loops" north and south of Interstate 40, bracketing Russellville. The first ran through Victorian Mountain Village of Eureka Springs for the morning, and the second across the peak of Mt. Magazine for the afternoon. Three hundred miles of overlooks, switchbacks, and power band riding awaited us. It is important to stay comfortable with not only your own riding but with the skills of those riding with you. By design, our group had been orchestrated to match riders of equal abilities and experience. That allowed the morning to be filled with confident "sport" riding. Sport riding is where you look "through" the butterflies rather than look "at" the butterflies. And look through the butterflies we did! All morning it was one set of beautifully maintained mountain curves after another. Drop-offs, cliffs, up and down grades, and almost no traffic. The northern loop is a sport rider's paradise. As promised on that website, every time we would come up on slower moving traffic the cars and trucks would move over on to the shoulder to let us pass. Now that is a sport rider's paradise. Our ride was built around Highways 7 and 28. Even far away from home there are signs that the same might be different. It was a bit of a surprise to me as we entered Madison County and rode through the Arkansas town of Huntsville! Lunch at a fast food restaurant near Interstate 40 gave us a chance to cool off and map out the afternoon ride. Taking a bit of time to look over the bikes, evidence of the morning run was the fact that each bike's tires showed much thinner "chicken strips" (the un-scrubbed portion of the tire tread near the edge). Conversation centered on ground clearance, tire adhesion, and the "next" roads. *Mt. Magazine* Crossing Interstate 40 opened up the vistas of Mt. Magazine. At over 2,700 feet, it is the highest point in the state. The sheer beauty of the broad river valleys, deep canyons, and distant mountains is almost overpowering. My internal guidance system switched over from sport to touring riding styles. Yes, it was time to look "at" the butterflies. Those next few hours reminded me of the Blue Ridge Parkway on steroids! Not only is dramatic beauty offered, but also the enjoyment of "above 35 mph" speed limits. A rider can comfortably ride without concerns over blue lights in the mirrors or RV's blocking the best curve's apex. I could not have thought of any better way to ratchet down an adrenalin filled day. The sprit of the weekend was galvanized when we talked with the family at an overlook. One of them had been surprised when I told her that I had been through their home town in Michigan. "You must ride motorcycles for a living," she said. My reply, "No, I do it for a life," marked our perspective! *Heading Home Again* First light Sunday morning meant breakfast at the Russellville Best Western and two lane highways back across the state. Needing to put off thoughts of the following morning returning to the workforce, I willed myself quickly back into the "zone" of riding. The interesting thing about Sunday mornings is that traffic usually only consists of people with some place to go. It is not much different in Arkansas. As the traffic moved along purposefully, there was always someone to act as "rabbit" to clear concerns over radar. *Welcome* Finally crossing back into Alabama, I was awakened from "the zone" by the first State Trooper I had seen for the entire weekend. Coming up behind an Alabama State Trooper on US 72: he flashed his blue lights as I got closer, I "slowed" to 70, the lights stayed on, then 65 when he turned them off. Pulling up next to him he "wagged" his finger (ah, ah, ah - guess I was being naughty) so I gave him the thumbs-up. He returned an "OK" and I continued on at a more socially acceptable rate of speed. Pulling into my garage I once again started that transition to the real world. Unpacking the bike I knew there was no better way to prepare for major changes than a few hundred miles in the zone on a BMW. The assistance and camaraderie of fellow club members, along with hundreds of miles of new roads and vistas, work together with the confident hum of a well designed motorcycle to give one the right perspective for coming horizons. Memories of that Arkansas hills ride will easily carry me through to the next weekend down the road.
Posted 2:34 PM, Jan 05, 2007 by bmwscooter
