Wrapping up our Arkansas adventure

Some of you are curious about some of the pictures in the previous entry, and I do intend to tell you all about them.  First, let me get everybody up-to-date on our ramblings.  
When we traveled to Arkansas, we took Highway 65.  It isn't the quickest way, but it's scenic.  When we first set out on a road trip, we are all about "scenic", and not at all worried about speed of getting someplace.  Once we set our faces toward home, however, we are usually road-weary.  There's just something about "heading home" that makes you want to get there as fast as possible.  So we took Highway 13 on our return trip; that highway has been updated and modernized so that we can really cook, as Cliff says.  

That's the mascot at Hub resort, sitting high and dry outside the office.   

 This is the bathroom available to us (when not using our travel toilet).  We used our own towels, since our $10 nightly hardly paid for laundry.   It's in a motel room that's being used for storage, but it was spotlessly clean.

 I took this shot just before we started taking down the tent and packing to go home.  
On the road toward home, I got a little hungry, and said to Cliff, "Hey, let's stop at that cheese place and eat some samples!"

 As you can tell, I was happy to be in a spot where you can get free samples.

 Don't we look all "tourist-y"?

There's always a crowd here because so many people use Highway 13 as a destination to various lakes:  Truman, Pomme De Terre, Lake Taneycomo, Table Rock, and all the Branson area.  There are countless flavors of cheese; my personal flavor this time was cool ranch.  All you do is grab a toothpick and help yourself to bite-size pieces of cheese.  Believe me, you can fill your belly with cheese at this place just hitting the hundreds of samples.  No, we did not make a purchase.  I wanted to, but my grocery envelope is looking pretty lean.  

We almost ran out of gas before we reached Sedalia; the tank only holds 5 1/2 gallons.  I think all that cheese affected our brains, and we forgot to watch the gauge.  
I'll try not to wait too long to tell you about those pictures you are curious about.

Riding the Arkansas Ozarks

Hub Motorcycle Resort is just off scenic Highway 7, so any ride we choose starts with that highway.  

That number 9 route (in purple) is never boring, and we went off 7 onto 374 and 123 to make our ride to Russellville even more interesting.  We've seen all this before, but it never gets old.  

It will be prettier when the leaves have turned.  They call this "the Grand Canyon of the Ozarks".  

Most of the wooded areas of Arkansas are National Forests.  

We saw load after load of railroad ties being transported.  At one point we were following a truck-load of ties that had been recently dipped in creosote.  Talk about a strong odor!   

These logs were almost dragging the ground.  I took this shot in Russellville.  


When we were planning our trip, I looked online at some state parks where we might camp.  Then we ended up at Hub and decided that's the best place to stay.  However, one park sparked my interest:  Mt. Nebo State Park.  It's just the other side of Russellville; when I saw the warning "trailers over 24 feet long should not  attempt to climb Mt. Nebo", I knew it would be a great ride up that mountain, even though it isn't mentioned on the above "motorcycle trails" map.  

It was SO worth the trip!

What a view!

After this, we went back down to Russellville and set our GPS to find a Walmart; we were determined not to sleep on rocks for another night.  It was 5 PM when we reached our home-away-from-home, and we were tuckered out.  It was a great day, in spite of the sleepless night before.

A cold night in Arkansas

We arrived in Arkansas around 5:30 Monday afternoon; the leaves haven't turned there yet, but the day was perfect for a motorcycle ride.  We thoroughly enjoyed the trip.  As we arrived at Hub Motorcycle Resort, the owner, Randall, smiled and waved at us from the balcony above the office, outside the quarters he shares with his wife, Debbie.
"We need a place to set up our tent," I said.  
"Anywhere over there on the grass is fine," he said.  "Just pull your bike down there and have at it."  
We love our tent.  It's easy to put up and light-weight to carry.  This is only the third time we've assembled it, but we didn't have any problem.  Notice our portable toilet there in front of the tent (minus the bag that holds the precious contents):  You might remember there was a mishap in Iowa with the travel toilet.  Because we were the only tent-campers at the resort, we set the thing outside the tent during our stay (we'd only be using it after dark; there was a rest room for us in an unused motel room).  Looking back, that was rather silly:  It made us get out of bed, bring our aging bodies to a standing position, unzip the door of the tent, and go outside into the frigid night.  Oh well, we managed; and this trip, there were no potty incidents.  
Perhaps you know, however, that tent camping is one of those adventures that carries with it certain inherent problems no matter how carefully you plan a trip.  This is why so many people say, "I hate camping; Motel 6 is as close to camping as I want to be."  
These would be people who retired with a much larger 401K than Cliff and I.  
Because it gets dark so early, after we had eaten our tuna salad sandwiches I got the air mattress blown up and we turned in.  It didn't take long to figure out our air mattress had a slow leak.  It was perhaps a half-hour later that we were laying on the cold, hard, rocky Arkansas ground.  
We had a similar problem on our last night in Iowa this summer, but Cliff was sure there was no leak:  he had put water on it and tried his best to make it leak and never found any sign.  It's the same air mattress I used in the cabin, so it's been around awhile; I suggested at the time we buy a new one, but Cliff said no.  I refrained from reminding him of this, though.  
So, we're laying on the ground and Cliff was graphically stating his opinion of camping.  Trying to lighten the situation, I said to him, "Remember that song, "Would You Lay With Me In a Field of Stone"?
"Don't sing it to me," says Cliff.  "You don't want to hear my answer."
He eventually slept some, but I'm pretty sure I never once drifted off to dreamland.  Folks, that was the most miserable night I've spent since giving birth to my babies.  If I rolled over on my side, my hip ground into the rocks.  Laying on my back,  (which normally never bothers me) my back ached in places where I didn't know I had places; also my knees, both the real one and the artificial one.  As the night went on, it got worse.  I remembered the old story in the New Testament about Paul being on a sinking ship where the crew "dropped four anchors and prayed for daylight." I felt like I'd dropped a lot more than four anchors; I prayed for daylight and thanked God that at least Cliff was getting some sleep.  Then I recalled Paul and Silas in prison singing hymns, but I knew if I started singing hymns I'd be getting a divorce before long.  Toward morning, I found out if I turned onto my stomach, the only thing that hurt was my neck (because of having to turn my head to one side or the other).  So I relieved my pain that way.  
We started getting ourselves ready for the coming day around daybreak, knowing that at some point we'd have to hit a Walmart and buy a new air mattress; neither of us was willing to repeat this experience!
The temperature got down into the low forties, but thank goodness we managed to stay warm enough in our sleeping bags.  I made coffee, we ate some cold cereal, and we started our day.  

Suddenly, Arkansas!

I won't discuss the semi-traumatic event Sunday that made me decide to abandon everything and head to Arkansas on the motorcycle.  Of course, my going there required Cliff to take part in my plans, since I don't drive anything motorized.  He wasn't hard to convince, though.  Monday around noon we set out, pulling a loaded motorcycle trailer behind us.  We went down Highway 65 and arrived at Hub Motorcycle Resort.  It's a motel catering to motorcyclists, and our favorite place to stay when we're in the Harrison, Arkansas area.  There are scenic curves and hills with great views in almost any direction.  I always said that Colorado owns a little piece of my heart, and I guess I could say the same for Arkansas.  




I didn't edit this clip closely.  I've spent an average of seven hours daily on the bike for three days straight, and I'm tired.

Great rides in Arkansas

The scenic beauty of Arkansas, of course, is reason enough to make a bike ride perfect.  The sharp curves and steep hills add excitement and keep you awake.  The fact that you can ride the back roads without ever seeing a car... that's icing on the cake.  Not that cars are a bad thing.  But when there's gorgeous scenery all around and the roads are tricky, Cliff likes to cruise slowly and take in the beauty.  If there's an impatient driver in a car behind us and we have no place to pull off and let him pass, our only choice is to speed up.    


Here's a video of a part of one of our rides; you might want to turn your sound off to get rid of the wind noise.  Notice we didn't meet a single vehicle.

A little bit about the Hub Motorcycle Resort

Some of my information came from Cliff's sister, so I hope I don't get any of it wrong.
The owners and managers of the place, Randall and Debbie, live at the motel themselves.  Debbie holds down a full-time job in addition to all the work she does at the Hub.  You will find them outside visiting with their customers most any time, although Debbie seems to help out in the restaurant a lot, too.
As I understand it, the motel sat empty and idle for twenty-some years; Randall and Debbie opened it in 2006.

I saw this on a wall at the restaurant.  Much of their business comes from word-of-mouth; that's how we heard about them.  If you have friends who ride motorcycles, be sure to tell them about the Hub.  There are no better motorcycle roads anywhere than those in Arkansas.
Now, if you are looking for a new, totally up-to-date motel, this isn't the place for you.  Our room was clean, though, and lacked that peculiar smell most motel rooms have.  The air conditioner worked, and hot water was instantly delivered as soon as a faucet was turned on.  And of course, the most important thing of all:  free Internet connection!   The camaraderie between the proprietors and the bikers who stay there is evident all the time.  Cliff and I pretty much kept to ourselves, but we would have been welcome to sit and chew the fat with the proprietors and the other bikers.  There are bonfires outside for those who care to join in.  
Campers are welcome to stay for $10 a night, and there's a shower and bathroom for them to use.

Here's Cliff, discussing a strange three-wheeled motorcycle with another guy.  There was a rally going on when we were there, so many of the motorcycles were BMW's (not that three-wheeled one, though).


Just as I started to miss Iris, the resident mascot decided to befriend me.

You see him here looking through the window of our motel room.  I didn't get his name, but he's the most lovable animal you'd ever want to meet, never jumping up on people... just greeting everyone with a wagging tail and a smile.

As we were heading to breakfast (I recommend the Western Omelet), he frolicked with us on the stairs.  My sister-in-law told me he's a rescue dog.  
Please help spread the word if you have friends who ride motorcycles; Arkansas is one of the best places they'll ever find for riding, and the Hub Motorcycle Resort is the best place to stay; you'll feel like part of the family.  

Of course I bought the T-shirt to prove I've been there.  


I have another motel to talk about, but I won't be giving it such glowing reviews.

Having fun in Arkansas

When I see one of these, I simply HAVE to climb to the top and see what I can see.  It's the kid in me, I guess.  

This is what I saw:  The Grand Canyon of the Ozarks.  We were here before, in the autumn of 2008.

I also saw a very tiny Cliff, beside a teensy-weensy Gold Wing motorcycle.  

And I looked ahead at the road we were going to take, and wondered if we were going to get rained on that day.  We didn't, except for a few tiny sprinkles when Donald was working on the motorcycle in Branson.  It was a good day.

Hello from Arkansas

I love the roads in the Ozarks.  In south Missouri, billboards advertising Branson ruin the landscape.  Once you're in Arkansas, the billboards are nonexistent.  I love the gentle hills and winding road of Arkansas.  
As always, we got a little turned around in Harrison.  Happens every time.  You'd think it wouldn't be so hard to find highway 7.  Maybe it's just us.  
We were on our way to the Hub Motel, located at the site of a long-since-defunct amusement park called "Dogpatch".  In fact, the Hub used to be a part of Dogpatch.  The motel sat empty for years.  As I understand it, the present owners purchased it about five years ago and little by little began to restore it.  It's still quite rustic, with 70's decor.    
Cliff and I have ridden past the ghost of Dogpatch a few times, so I thought we'd have no trouble finding the Hub.  

However, we drove past this old sign at least half-a-dozen times, and saw no sign of a motel.  Not a single sign... nothing.  Finally, we pulled over and called Cliff's younger sister, who spent a few days here with her husband recently.  She told us to get off 7 highway onto 7 spur, and we'd be there.  

Finally, on the property itself, we saw a sign saying "Hub".  We grumbled and griped, wondering why on earth these people didn't put signs on 7 highway.  

Still, it was good to see our motel.  The reason they cater to bikers is that this part of Arkansas has some of the best scenic roads around, lots of curves and turns... just what motorcyclists long for.  
The proprietor explained that because it's a historic and scenic road, they are not allowed to put any sort of sign there.  So we forgave her and went to our room.  After freshening up a bit, we went to Scooters, the restaurant on the grounds, and had a wonderful prime rib dinner.   
We are SO tired!
Pretty much a perfect day, I'd say.  And a perfect ride.   
Oh, and I think we'll get rained on before this vacation is over.

Road trip

Cliff and I have been wanting to ride the motorcycle to Arkansas and stay in the Hub Motorcycle Resort for a long time, but seems like something always went wrong:  Last time we made a reservation, rain was forecast for the whole weekend and we cancelled;  the rain materialized, too.  
Cliff's youngest sister and her husband spent a few days at the Hub recently and loved it.  That did it for me; I suggested to Cliff that we make reservations, and if it looked like rain, we'd drive the car and haul the motorcycle on a trailer.  
Until mid-week, the forecast looked perfect throughout the weekend.  Then suddenly the weather-guessers started putting chances of rain in for Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday.  They're blaming it on the current tropical storm.  
We've changed our minds a half-dozen times about whether to take the car or not.  I know it sounds like the easy way out, but it really does spoil the adventure of the trip; half the fun is getting there, picnicking somewhere along the way.  Coming home, it would be nice to have the comfort of the car, but you can't have it both ways.  
So I think we're going to take our chances with the rain and be free spirits.  On the way down, we hope to stop at Gene's Gallery in Springfield and see if they have any accesseries we need for our Gold Wing.    
I'll be taking the laptop along.
Cliff's sister will be next door keeping a sharp eye on the place; Iris will once again be boarded.  She seemed quite happy with her stay last week, so I feel at ease about it this time.  She'll be in air-conditioned comfort, hopefully away from the noise of firecrackers, which are driving her nuts around here.    
There was a little glitch in our plans today, but it all worked out.  My bathroom developed a leak in the plumbing; actually there had been a drip for awhile, but nothing we couldn't live with.  Today it was serious enough that Cliff decided to try and fix it.  
He did his best, but he's not a plumber, trailer house plumbing is the cheapest-made in the world, and he ran out of time and had to get ready to go to work.  I suggested a plumber, and he agreed that since we're leaving, there was really no choice.  We picked one out of the phone book; Cliff left me a huge handful of cash and went to work.  
The plumber declared it an easy job and was done in fifteen minutes.  I asked him how much I owed, and he said....
.
.
.
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
.
.
.


Twenty-five dollars.  


WHAT?????  That's all?????  Maybe this was a better day than I thought.

Goodbye, garden

The forecast is for a low of 34 tonight and 30… possibly 27… for tomorrow night. The bell pepper plants are loaded with peppers that will never see maturity. I went and picked all of them that felt firm and ready.

There are dozens and dozens more; the real shame is that after this weekend it's going to stay above freezing for awhile. I may throw an old blanket over a couple of the plants, just to see if I could save them for another week or two.

Cliff and I still hope to go to Arkansas one more time before winter, but it seems to be raining there almost every weekend. Cliff mentioned waiting until the leaves change color, but I told him if we get a time that the weather is good, we'd better go for it and not worry about the leaves.

I haven't seen hummingbirds for several days, so I guess they've moved on. I have the goldfinch feeder out, but haven't seen a single finch for a long time; everything I've read about them assures me they will return to spend the winter. Right now, things are pretty dead in my back yard, as far as bird activity. Before February, I want to get a bluebird house and a martin house. I read online that if you get two birdhouses and put them ten feet apart, sparrows will use one and leave the other for bluebirds. Both sparrows and bluebirds are territorial, and won't nest too close to their own kind. I sure do hate to think about providing housing for a nasty old sparrow, though.

More from our Arkansas trip

The rain has been falling all night, and is still gently coming down. You remember my parents' saying about "if it rains on Easter Sunday, it will rain for the next seven Sundays"? This makes two down and five to go. My rain gauge says 3 1/2 inches, which causes me to wonder if I forgot to empty it last time. My sister-in-law, however, said she heard on the news that some areas got four inches.

Here's a question for my Arkansas readers (that'd be Lona and Diane, for sure): What are these red flowers that bloom in abundance along the roadways down there? I jokingly called them "redbelles" because in Texas in the spring, bluebelles bloom like this.

While we're talking about flowers, have I mentioned how I love Azaleas? Just look at those colors! Next time I'm at Colonial Nursery, I'm asking if there's an azalea that can winter over in my part of Missouri.

Even with the trees all ice-damaged, the Arkansas landscape is breathtaking.

We left home Saturday morning around nine o'clock; of course we had to stop at Lamberts for lunch on the way past Ozark, Missouri.

I believe it was around six when we found a motel in Russellville, Arkansas.

Next morning we were heading for Bella Vista where my friend Lona lives. We could have taken a freeway, but Interstates aren't any fun. We like to take the older highways and look at the abandoned businesses in dying towns, left behind by progress. Before leaving the motel, I looked at the map and told Cliff, "Oh, this will be no problem: we just go west on 64 until it hits 71, then go north."

We did see lovely sights going that route, including hundreds of my beloved azaleas,

Old barns,

Many older houses made from Arkansas rocks,

A realty with an interesting name,

and various kinds of homes (Cliff said, "What are we laughing at? WE live in a mobile home behind a barn!").

Unfortunately, we missed 71. We started feeling uneasy when we spent a half-hour going from stoplight to stoplight in a bad section of Russellville, the sort of neighborhood where one expects to hear gunshots at any time; our hearts sank when we passed a sign saying "Welcome to Oklahoma".

We pulled off at the nearest exit and found ourselves in front of an abandoned livestock sale barn (also not a very comforting place to be, and Cliff didn't take his Glock). Cliff dug out the GPS, because we knew we'd never get out of this mess without it.

Since there's no safe place to attach it to the motorcycle windshield, I held it in one hand and told Cliff whatever the GPS told me. On the lower lefthand side, you see that our arrival time at our friend's home in Bella Vista, Arkansas, was to be 11:29. This was a good time to arrive, since she was making dinner for us and we were getting hungry.

All's well that ends well. I met Lona in a chat room in 1998, and we still keep in touch. If I wanted some serious, objective input on most any decision I had to make, this is the lady I'd go to. Even when she doesn't think I'm listening, I probably am.

Do not, however, ask her opinion of GPS devices; that's where she and I part ways.

Originally we had planned to spend the night at Lona's house, but because of the threat of rain, we came on home. It worked out all right, because we had a lot of outdoor work to do, and Cliff and I worked like troopers all day Sunday.

It was a nice getaway.

Ah, the weather

Cliff's sister took this picture this morning. Didn't we look happy to be heading to Arkansas? Don't mind the neighbor's dirt yard; it's been like that for three years. If weeds start to grow, he just gets the dozer and runs it over the yard.

Fools. That's us. Check out the weather for Arkansas and Missouri for the rest of the weekend. If we don't get drenched heading home, it'll be by the grace of God.

I will say we sure did enjoy the ride down here. At least we have that.

The Grand Canyon of the Ozarks

This spot was a highlight of our ride Saturday.



Click on the picture to read the sign, which tells some interesting facts about the place.

There was quite a crowd when we first arrived, including lots of bikers.


It was noon, and I was surprised that the little gift shop had no food. I'm sure they'd have made a killing, if they'd been selling sandwiches.

Oh well, Cliff and I simply tailgated once again with our usual hobo lunch. Several people smiled and commented about our stand-up picnic.

Arkansas curves, Arkansas autumn

Click on any picture to see the details. Of course, the pictures don't do things justice; you need to be there, feeling the wind on your face and smelling the woods and seeing the vastness of it all.

See the road sign ahead? That's literally a hairpin turn.






Absolutely perfect riding! Notice on that last curve, a speed limit of 20 MPH is suggested. That was the norm for most of our ride. A 110-mile-long trip took us about three hours to complete.