Trains, grains and manes

A moment of silence for those who died or lost loved ones September 11, 2001.

Thank you.

On Wednesday (September 4) Birdie and I parted company. She was heading west, and I was going north to the Chipps HD shop in Osceola, Iowa. I wanted a Chipps shirt to match the Chips1 license plate on my cop bike. Mission accomplished.




I just couldn't help myself.  I like John Deere equipment. 

  Where to go, where to go? I decided to head east and do a loop and take a few back roads through Iowa and Missouri. I really wanted to go down through some of the Mark Twain National Forests, but didn't know if I'd have time to get there.

There are lots of trains in the Lower 48, and on occasion, one can even get them to blow the whistle.

I passed up a few Harley shops, think my shopping spree was over as my credit card had been smoking hot for a couple of weeks. Now I was just in it for the ride, the pure joy of riding back roads, countryside, farms, two Amish buggies (but no photo op) and lots of corn. It seemed quite peaceful on these back roads.

Even old farm houses and barns have personality and make for a nice photo.

There's usually a horse or a cow in most yards and pastures.  But every now and then ... there's something different tossed into the mix.  I saw several camels in a pasture with some donkeys.

Moberly was my choice of places to stay for the evening, but apparently no one had made my reservation for me. There was no place to stay … three hotels and nothing except a jacuzzi suite which I didn't want … pipeliner construction crews had filled the town. So on I went to Columbia. It was pretty much the same (horse shows and such had filled most everything) except for a Ramada with a second floor room and no elevator. I was tired and decided I was done for the night. So I took it. I was not so tired I'd have taken a smoking room which had been available at the first hotel I checked.

Couldn't help getting this photo.

 The next day I was hoping to make the forests (Thursday, September 5).

I saw a sign for Paris, rode to Mexico, then Cuba. What kind of international tour was I on? But gas was cheap. I saw it for $3.39 per gallon, unleaded. It was 83 degrees, but I was cold, and still wearing my gloves and a hoodie. I've acclimated to a degree, way too quickly as too soon I'll be back in the cold country.

I'm enjoying doing my international tour on a motorcycle while never leaving the USofA.

What a day it was, though. I rode back roads all day, from Moberly down on Hwy. 19 all the way to Thayer, near the Arkansas border. It was twisties, gentle curves, and everything in between with trees arching over the road here and there. It was beautiful no matter where I looked, and I could have ridden these roads forever. There wasn't even much traffic so I had it all pretty much to myself, to ride as quickly or as slowly as I liked. Who could not like that? A motorcyclist's dream road, with no other traffic!!

These three photos were taken along the same piece of property.  A gentleman drove his truck out to see me, probably wondering what I was doing.  I told him I was admiring his art and was taking photos.  He turned his truck around, drove back to his house, got out of the truck and went into his house.  But we had a very nice conversation for about 10 minutes.  Where else do you just come into contact with people for a short time, make a connection and then go about your business?  On a road trip, of course!!



I enjoyed all the back road riding ... lots of trees, some twisties, cool air, and lovely smells, discounting the road kill, naturally.

My destination for the evening was planned for Ozark, Missouri, near the southwest corner. However, once again I misread something and didn't find a place and kept on going toward Branson. I was reading all the signs … for all the entertainment … and was wishing I had the luxury of a few days to spend here, catching a show or two. I landed at a Comfort Inn, on the second floor. BUT, they had an elevator and a luggage cart. Best of all, they let me park up front and I could see my bike from the room. Yet another great day, and fun for if not all, me. Good night.

Friday (September 6) was my push for Texas, Mesquite, where my Texan friend, Jgayle, lives. I tried to get on the road by 8, but struggled as I wanted to get a blog posted for the 110^th celebration parade. Slow photo loading made for a late departure. Oh well. It was 69 degrees this time, and I was freezing with my gloves and hoodie. At home we'd be thinking 69 was a warm day.



I still enjoy taking photos of hay bales.

There are a lot of these roads around waiting to be ridden.

Once again I looked for a backroad. I started on Hwy 65 which isn't small and took me into Arkansas, found 412 which was another great motorcycle road, and then 23, yet another superb road. I also found something called Pigtail Trail Scenic Byway near the Ozark National Forest , which as you can guess, was a ton of twisties, some 10, 20, 30 mph, threading through tunnels made of foliage and trees. These are mostly back roads with little traffic, and I couldn't believe there just wasn't much but me out there. Spooky, too, because if I'd missed a turn somewhere, running a little too hot, or just taking my eye off the road for a second to enjoy the view, I could end up in the weeds somewhere with no one seeing me, or knowing where I was. Oh, but it was so worth it … every second. And I did pay attention because I knew … nope. No close calls on this one.



These roads were awesome.

 As quickly as I'd found them, I was finished and on I-40, heading into Oklahoma. Oh, the agony of the Interstate, running highway speed or better, making that push into Texas. But Highway 69 made some of that interstate worth it.

Jgayle was tracking me on Spot and I called her to let her know where I was, about 200 miles away at that point, and we set up a time for me to call again. Of course, I didn't call her … I was riding, getting as many miles as I could, getting closer. When I called again I was about 40 miles from where we decided to meet, Greenville. The meet would be in a parking lot at WalMart. Sounds shady, doesn't it?

When I arrived Greenville, I took a wrong road, then ended up in the wrong lane. I asked the lady in the car next to me how to get to WalMart. She said I'm going there, follow me. And there I was, in the WalMart parking lot.

Surprisingly, I got there first. I couldn't believe it, and texted. No response. Well, guess she's riding. A short while later, here comes that shiny red Switchback and my wonderful Texas friend, all decked out and looking like a million dollars like she always does. Hugs, hugs.

Then dinner and a ride home on a back road in the dark. Of course, there is construction and road closures, so we missed the detour sign and ended up turning around on the big highway and riding the wrong way back to where the detour started … in dark, dark, dark. It gets really dark here.

One more wrong turn left us on a frontage road that was also closed. Things look so much different in the dark, but we were together so I knew we were fine. It was actually pretty funny. Two old ladies on motorcycles wandering around like lost souls in the dark.

But all roads lead to Braum's ... or they can.

Suddenly we were home to her house, and in for the night. As much as we like to talk, we didn't last long and we tottered off to bed.