Monday, Monday ... sometimes it just works out that way

Slider always gets me out of town.  She always gets me to where I want to be, and then usually she goes one way and I head the other.  This time I wanted to go on Interstate 80, east toward Mineola, Texas, and then angle up on 37 to a place called De Queen, Arkansas.  It’s because my friends encourage me to behave badly.  So, a photo op was in order.

Sometimes your plans don’t always work out the way you think they will.  I stopped along the road to double check my map and my bike wouldn’t start when I got back on.  Crap!!!

A bike going the other direction asked me with the thumb’s up if I was okay.  I signaled with the thumb’s down and he came around.  His name was Gary and he was on his way to work.  He pulled the fuse panel, but nothing going on there.  He couldn’t help me. 

While Gary was there and I was trying to call Roadside Assistance, a mobile repair unit pulled in behind us.  The guy got out and turns out while he works on trucks, trailers and refrigeration units, he also does some motorcycle work.  He figured it was the battery so I unloaded my bike and he finally got it jump started.  I reloaded everything back on it.  What a guy.  Turns out he is a prospect for the Bandidos MC.  He was very kind and respectful to me and I think he respected his wife as that’s what he called her … no derogatory names.  He also would not accept any payment, and just said I was a biker and that we should help each other.  I politely asked if I could take his photo.  It didn’t hurt that he was quite easy on the eyes.  (Yep, I still have eyes, and they’re good ones.)  If you want more information on this organization, Google it.  I did.

My first guardian angel for the day.

Off I rode heading to Tyler, Texas, and the Harley shop.  In trying to get to I-20, I got challenged big-time directionally and just flat could not find it … construction, bad directions.  I stopped to check my phone GPS and made the mistake of putting down the kickstand without the bike first being in neutral.  On a Police bike, that’s the signal to shut it down.  And shut down it did … with no restart in sight.  I got off the bike and just threw up my hands while thinking “that was stupid,”  along with a few other choice words.

A pickup truck with a not-so-young, not-so-old gentleman immediately pulled up and asked if I was okay.  Nope, sure not.  He had jumpers.  Once again I unloaded my bike, sweating, drops of sweat streaming down my face into my eyes and stinging me to tears, down my back and my front … I was soaking wet.  Ugh!!!  But once again we got the bike started and he gave me the proper directions (that worked) to get to I-20.  He would not accept any money either.  WOW!!!  What nice folks I’ve run into.  (Yes, I know there are not-so-nice ones out there, too, but I am pure-of-heart-mostly, and am living a charmed life.  I also try to be very aware.)  Another lady stopped as well.  Yep, I’m good now.  Thank you very much. 

Off I went to Tyler.  My battery test showed it as DEAD, DEAD, DEADER THAN DEAD.  Did I tell you it was DEAD?  A half hour to 45 minutes later and I was back on the road, heading somewhere.  I went east toward Longview, Texas, and eventually got headed north toward Arkansas.  I was back on track, although on a different road than I’d originally intended to ride.  Oh well.  It really doesn’t matter, except that I had to stop and stay further south than I’d intended, still in Texas.

Remember the saga of my friends Joe and Verlie (my Phoenix bike’s foster parents) and the motor coach?  This time as they were traveling someone came up and told them their pickup truck they were pulling had come loose and was hanging on by mere security chains.  When they stopped to check it, the truck rear-ended the motor coach.  That truck is developing a nasty habit of rear-ending other vehicles.  That’s two.  Anyway, the cotter pin or whatever it is that attaches it to the hitch had come out, broken, whatever.  But luckily, no damage other than a hole in the coach bumper. 

But wait, there’s more, and it hasn’t been good news on this trip.  On their way from Medford, Oregon, to Portland where Joe’s family reunion is, they blew a tire on the driver’s side rear axle.  While they got someone out to repair it, they had to limp to a garage as the tire also took out the transmission line and they were losing $80-a-gallon fluid.  Some work, some welding, and they got back on the road and arrived at their campground/resort destination.  At least they did not have a wreck when the tire blew.  They’ve been very lucky that way … only the vehicles have been damaged in the making of this trip.  But it’s all been quite expensive, I’m sure. 

On Tuesday morning (July 29), I once again headed north and made it into Arkansas.  It wasn’t too many miles and this mission was accomplished, De Queen, Arkansas. 

Yep, I'm behaving badly.  And it's all your faults ... encouraging me all the time.

From there I continued north as I wanted to go to Fort Smith, Arkansas.  There was something there I wanted photograph, the 30-foot-tall Mr. Peanut from Planter’s Company.  The statue was originally a Peabody, Massachusetts, landmark, and I wanted a photo since I have friends in Peabody and want them to see it.  Maybe they remember it?  It was restored and moved to the company’s lawn in Fort Smith to live on in history.

Planter's Factory.

And Mr. Peanut.

There was another mission for the day, the Toad Suck Harley shop in Conway, Arkansas.  I rode I-40 to get there as I was starting to fall a little behind where I wanted to be.  What a name for a shop.  Of course, I need a shirt with this name. 

“The Legend of Toad Suck

Long ago, steamboats traveled the Arkansas River when the water was at the right depth. When it wasn't, the captains and their crew tied up to wait where the Toad Suck Lock and Dam now spans the river. While they waited, they refreshed themselves at the local tavern there, to the dismay of the folks living nearby, who said: "They suck on the bottle 'til they swell up like toads." Hence, the name Toad Suck. The tavern is long gone, but the legend lives on.”  (Taken from a website I found on Google.)

There’s also Toad Suck Daze, a 3-day festival held on the streets of downtown Conway.  It’s the first weekend in May if you’re looking for something to do.

Heading north out of Conway, I rode in beautiful hilly country, lush greenery and wonderful roads.  Maybe I’ve been on this road before, maybe not.  It doesn’t matter as it’s not the same as … north or south? every day like at home.  It was a pleasant day’s ride and I ended up in Harrison, Arkansas, about 30 miles south of Branson, Missouri.

I was trying to get to Mankato, Minnesota, on Thursday to stay with my cousin, Kate.  Kate had made arrangements for me to stay at the convent campus where she lives.  (Don’t get up-in-arms; I’m sure it would have been okay for me … haha!!)  But one of our hosts for the reunion was admitted to the hospital and Kate had to leave early to help get everything ready.  So while I could still stay there I chose to bypass it as I’d rather Kate be there to show me around.  Next time.

When I awoke on Wednesday (July 30), I waited just long enough to make sure there was some rain.  I really hadn’t ridden in any rain, just a shower or two, sometimes heavy, sometimes not.  Today was the day.  My mission was to just keep heading north.  I was not supposed to be riding in rain, but it kept coming down, from a drizzle to harder, bigger drops.  Okay, in Branson  I decided it was time to gas up and gear up. 

This vehicle was at the gas station ... half cab, half police car.  Very unique.  It sure gets your attention and I hope it works to get drunks home safely, as well as keep others safe from them.

Gearing up did the trick as I only rode in about 35 more miles of it, 65 miles in all, really nothing in the big scheme.  At home we’d be riding in it for days.  Down here, you often only ride for a short period of time, and this time I was grateful.  It wasn’t cold, but it sure made for a dirty bike and wet pants.  I think my dark blue pants leaked color onto my cream-colored butt pad Slider gave me last year.

The day got beautiful, and perfect for sightseeing.  I've always been attracted to bales or rolls of hay.  This was no different, but there was an added element.

This tribute to our country was right next to the rolls of hay.  What a find, out in the middle of nowhere.

 

This is a better shot of two of the four statues.  They were very impressive ... just on the top of the hill.  I climbed up to take photos.  Hope I didn't get chiggers this time. 

I made a lunch stop in Sedalia, Missouri, and used the extra time in not having to be in Mankato Thursday to schedule a 35,000-mile-service.  That wasn’t as easy as I’d expected.  I had to call three shops.  They were all booked up, backed up and were dealing with Sturgis traffic.  What?  I’d forgotten.  Yep, Sturgis.  I got an appointment at Chipp’s Harley-Davidson in Osceola, Iowa, for Thursday morning.  Some of us visited this shop last year after the 110^th reunion in Milwaukee.  I had wanted a shirt from here as it comes quite close to matching the license plate on the cop bike, CHIPS1.  So now I’ll have another.

 

Once I’d finished lunch and made the appointment my goal was to get to Osceola and overnight near the shop so I didn’t have to get up at daybreak to ride and be there by 9 a.m.  That mission, too, was accomplished.  Guess I’m just mission-oriented.

Sometimes ya just gotta turn around and go back and get that photo.  I don't know how the person made this but it was beautiful and I went back to get this photo, turning around on a narrow two-lane road, which is always a challenge for me.

On the way, I again rode wonderful roads.  While State Highway 65 sometimes is four-lane, or three when it’s got passing lanes, much of the time it is two-lane, the kind you love to ride.  This road had taken me through the hillls of Arkansas to the lushness of Missouri to the agricultural fields of Iowa.  I really enjoyed this ride, and stopped a time or two for photo opportunities. 

A roadside table set up to sell wares.  It's good use of a power pole.

 

After all, I needed blog fodder.  I’ve seen Amish carriages, four of them.  I’ve always enjoyed seeing them.  But I often wonder how they can possibly survive in this day and age.  There is so much “progress” and it must be difficult for their young people with all the technology, vehicles and so on.

 

 

One of the places I stopped was Peter’s Market.  The reason I stopped mainly was because they had fresh peaches, and I was sure wanting to sample a few.  They had rows of different kinds of peaches, and it’s difficult to make a decision for only one kind, especially when you can only get one.  I talked to some other folks on a bike and we decided to split a basket of them, so each of us got three.  Perfect.  (Plus the lady gave me a tip of something to look for … quilts on the side of barns, mostly in Iowa.)

Did you say peaches?  How many kinds do you want?  You want it, they've got it.

But there was so much more to Peter's.  It was not merely a produce stand, but a real market with jars of pickled this and that, apple butter, and butters of all kinds, and the fruit?  I’ve never seen fruit the size of the cantaloupes they had.  WOW!!!

This is a full-blown store, with everything you need for a snack.

 

If you want something pickled, there are lots to choose from.

Have you ever seen cantaloupes this big?  $2.99 each.  Don't we pay nearly that per pound at home?

Then I found the ciders and slushies.  There was a peach-lemonade slushie that I had to try.  Talk about  refreshing drink … this was IT!!!!  I enjoyed my short stay, but then I was off again, landing in Osceola about a mile from the shop.

It was a great day of riding ... farmland, animals, produce stands.  Fun, relaxing, the kind of ride day you dream of.