11-19-2012, 09:12 AM
Wonna Be ADVrider
Joined: Mar 2010
Location: Sandia Mountains New Mexico
Tuesday - November 7, 2012
Route 7 The Ozarks! Just an amazing ride here
Lets go and visit the Ozarks of Arkansas. From Pine Bluff NW up to Fayetteville was epic times 100; a total; huba huba day. Home of the Razorbacks and
what a college backyard to play in. I did a little class 4 canoeing on the Cossatot Wild & Scenic River many years ago and remember how beautiful and remote that
river was. Of course the Buffalo float trip is also a ritual for college kids, really just spectacular riding 2 lane all day. Over 250 miles riding today and also a small petroleum issue I will talk about later.
The Village of Hot Springs. Very historic and some old money here back in the day.
Stop and rest often. Find a secluded spot, out of site out of mind thing and chill out.
Water and maybe a little dancing in the trees.
While chillaxin’ I spotted this partial license plate. When in Rome right? The Razorback matches Jo Jo pretty well.
Hell yea, this was the typical view all day.
How about one more video? This is part of Alabama as well as Route 7 in the Arkansas Ozarks.
I look out at this vista and I think what a church. A religious view, really a cathedral.
Wow Jo Jo, you got a fat ass but your still pretty.
End of the day, always rewarding to be out at dark thirty and ride into this.
At this point I decided to push on into Springdale Arkansas, @30 miles away. My second gremlin strike is waiting just around the corner. Jo Jo finds her way to a Hindu Hilton in a unique way.
Oh I almost forgot about the gas issue. So I leave the Village of Hot Springs and the traffic on Tuesday morning with about a half a tank of gas. I stop at a road cut to check out some killer geology.
So after a bit of geo speculating, I decided to ride around on the berms and Jo Jo wanted to get some air and ride a bit O’ trials. I motor on west on Highway 7 and realize my map pouch is MIA! FFFKKK! I turn around and backtrack which I despise to do and go back to the geo quarry. I ride around, I look. Wilson! Wilson where are you? Then I look down between my head light housing and the light and there it is. Wilson, your back. So I added a micro bungee cord across the head light supports and Wilson is now secure.
So I’m back re riding Highway 7 and motor on through the Village of Hot Springs and from there on it’s just twisty visual Nirvana. iPod music is playing Moody Blues, Collective Soul and David Grey. I’m just Jonesin’ along, a rubber neck on a ball bearing socket. A happy idiot. Then I start thinking about my mileage. How far to the next gas station? Lets see, I have ridden about 190 miles on a tank. Do I turn around and go back to Hot Springs? No and hell no. It can’t be that far to the next gas station right? Then a few miles later I hear that sputtering sound, it sent a feeling through my body, that oh shit feeling. Reach down quickly and hit the reserve. I know I got maybe 45 miles or more on reserve but I hate riding like this with no spare fuel. There just has to be a gas station somewhere along Highway 7. Look at the map, sure, maybe? So as the twisty miles roll on, I’m no longer enjoying the scenery. I’m worried about gas. How far is it to the next town? Every corner or a break in the trees has me thinking the next turn. Nothing, just trees and trees. Does this road and these blasted trees go on forever? Well if I run out of gas, I will make a sign and stand on the side of the road. Surely someone will have some gas. Not the first time I have begged for gas on this trip. So I’m about 40 miles now since reserve. Really, is this how the election day ride is gonna go?
Then I spot this.
Happy happy happy. The dispenser was very old, double the price on the meter. 5.3 gallons, I still had .6 gallons left. Wow I was so happy to walk in that old place and pay for gas. Now at 200 miles I get gas, I hate that feeling. I asked the lady how far to the next gas station? She says about 40 miles. She also said that she closed the store earlier to go vote. I’m thinking I’m so lucky. Later around 7 PM that night I would realize that I was not that lucky.
I know, this is getting a bit weird right? My clear map pouch is has a name like my bike. What should I call my nephews water bottle?
But then I would have never met Leon.
AteamNM screwed with this post 11-20-2012 at 08:58 AM