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[St] Ozark trip, Day 1,



      I woke early today, got up and dressed, fed the dogs, and was ready
to leave by about 7:30 which was only an hour early.
      I guess I must be ready to roll!
      Around 8:15 AM I was rolling the bike out as Billie held the gate and
dogs and realized that I had forgotten my cell phone.
      I was back in the house when my cell rang and it was Bird Dawg saying
he was ready to go.
      We were to meet on Highway 423 to the Albertsonâs gas pumps about
three miles out of town.
      As I was completing my gas up Bird Dawg pulled up, got gas, we
exchanged pleasantries, and we were soon ready to get started.
      I lead us out as we headed east on Friscoâs Main Street to the North
Dallas Tollway where we turned north to Highway 380.
      At Highway 380 we headed east about a mile and then turned north on
Preston Road to keep out of the busy Highway traffic.
      We made our way north through Prosper, my hometown of Celina, Gunter,
and Dorchester to old Highway 82 outside of Sherman.
      A quick jaunt on Highway 82 got us into Sherman where we headed back
north again on Highway 75/69.
      The bike felt fantastic and it was good to be on the road once more
with my old riding buddy just sailing along listening to that great triple
sound and the thumping of the Guzzi.
      The skies were crystal clear and the temperature was in the lower
sixties for great riding conditions.
      We crossed the Red River into Oklahoma and made great time until we
made our normal pit stop and gassed up in Atoka at the Shell station.
      After more good words of cheer we rode back onto Highway 75/69 north
about seven miles until we exited east at Stringtown.
      As always, I love this road as you come off the long straight boring
highway onto a country back road with little traffic and fast sweepers.
      The bikes were performing like champions and the great view of the
two mountain ridges on each side getting closer the farther east we rode
sure didnât hurt anything.
      We set the bikes up at about ten over the limit and just rocketed
along taking in the scenery, the fresh clean air, banking left and right,
and I was grinning like a possum.
      There is nothing like riding along with your buddy knowing how each
other ride and anticipating what they will do next.
      Setting your own pace which also happens to fit your buddy just lets
you know you are doing some things right.
      All too soon we were at Lake Sardis but there is better roads to come
and we cross the two mile long dam and set off toward Talihina, our last
stop in Oklahoma.
      Bird Dawg is leading us as we enter Talihina about twenty minute
later and we stop at Pamâs Diner for a buffet lunch of fried catfish,
smashed potatoes, salad, and sweet tea.
      Man itâs good but we restrain ourselves as we both know what eating
too much feels like once back on the bikes.
      Itâs around 12:30 as we gear back up and the temperature has risen to
seventy degrees. Geesh, life is tough sometimes.
      Bird Dawg leads us about seven miles eastward until we get to the
Talimena Parkway.
      As we start our climb up the parkway the temperature falls back to
about sixty degrees. Man, this is so good.
      This weather feels just right in the  jacket with liner and medium
gloves.
      The air is so clear, the grass and trees are brilliant green, and
spring is in full bloom on the parkway.
      We both bend the bikes into the turns, brake for the 20 and 15 MPH
turns and just flow with the road letting the motor brake us for the turn
and rolling on the throttle at about mid point.
      The brand new Metzler Z6âs are doing their thing big time for me on
this trip and feel really great.
      The traffic is almost nonexistent until we catch a couple of cruisers
who we dispatch quickly and then queue up behind the Gold Wing train.
      I later told Bird Dawg that the folks know how to stay on a Gold Wing
but they donât know how to ride a motorcycle.
      They were bunching together to make it difficult to pas them one by
one and two of them were all over the lane.
      They would of course speed up at every little straight section and
then throw on the brakes at every turn, wobble around, weave back and
worth, and then speed back up once they knocked the fun out of the good
stuff.
      I could tell Bird Dawg was frustrated and I guess I am more
aggressive in traffic as I soon passed Bird Dawg and two of the Gold Wings,
braked hard right behind the second Gold Wing, and revved the motor to send
a signal.
      This Gold Wing pulled far right and waved me by.
      Of course I took both Gold Wings in third gear as the triple sent its
howling signal to the land yachts and Bird Dawg was right in tow.
      I will never understand why the cruisers and some Gold Wing pilots
bunch up and make it harder for fellow bikers to pass them, hold bikes up,
speed up to make passing more difficult, and ride along like they donât
care.
      Anyway, we then carved our way across the majestic parkway and pulled
in at the Queen Wilhelmina Lodge for a brief rest and look off overview
site.
      There were about ten bikes in the parking lot, all sport bikes, which
included Hondas, Kawasakiâs, Suzukiâs, Yamahaâs, BMWâs, and one Buell.
      We got back aboard and made our way the last fifteen miles and
descended the parkway into Mena, Arkansas, where we stopped for fuel at the
normal station.
      After fueling we were off up Highway 71 through Acorn and Y City to
Waldron where we caught the roller coaster that is called Highway 250 until
it merged into Highway 80 to Danville.
      This is another great road out in the middle of nowhere with little
if any traffic and deep forest as the road heaves and dips with sweepers
going both directions.
      It makes the fifty miles to Danville pass like a heartbeat and you
just feel great inside after making the run.
      It was about then Bird Dawg pulled over and uttered those famous
words motorcyclist love to hear, âIt canât get any better then thisâ.
      We went about ten miles outside of Danville to Havana and turned
north once more on Highway 309 to start the Mount Magazine climb.
      I seemed all out of synch climbing up magazine but it was still once
of the best times ever. Just slower.
      At the top we stopped at the overlook and once more soaked in the
clear air, cool temperatures, and great scene before us.
      Turkey Buzzards soared above and below us looking for todayâs meal.
It might be a challenge as I counted about fourteen in flight at one time.
      Loaded up, we descended Mount Magazine enjoying the sweepers
complimented by a great road surface and then hit some straight sections
through Paris to Webb City where we went back right on Highway 23 for about
five miles to Ozark.
      The Arkansas River was at full brim as we crossed a great bridge
built back in the forties, gassed the bikes up, and pulled into the Oxford
Inn for the night.
      We hadnât been there long when Steve Walker rode in from Tulsa on his
Ducati Foggy replica and joined us.
      That is one great looking bike and complimented the looks of Bird
Dawgâs lime green Guzzi and Merlinâs shiny red paint.
      We spent a lot of time looking at each others bikes and talking until
we walked a couple of blocks to the local Mexican restaurant and enjoyed a
good meal. Walker even surprised me by paying for my dinner as a return for
sending him some bike models last fall. I didnât expect it but thanks
Steve.
      After dinner we watched the Rangers defeat the Astros with the door
open while walking in and out to the bikes and exchanging bike stories.
      It was during this time that Walker also destroyed my dreams of
driving a train for a living but thatâs another story.
      I love bench racing but soon it was near eleven and we all settled
down for a nice sleep.
      I cannot wait for tomorrow!




Jack "Rude Dog" Hays
972-952-5065
"I'll see you on the dark side of the Moon"
4 - 8 - 15 - 16 - 23 - 42
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