Uncle Phil - Hill Country 2010 Day 07

HILL COUNTRY 2010

Day 07

May 06

I was planning on leaving around 6 AM so Ken could see me off, but my eyes fly open around 4 AM. That's not too unusual since that's my normal wake up time at home. I try to go back to sleep, but it's useless. So I try to be as quiet as I can so I don't wake up Ken and his family. Since I'm pretty well packed, it's a quick shot at the bathroom, get my gear on and see if I can get downstairs to the garage without tripping over something. I am successful, and soon I'm out on I635 way before the rest of the world wakes up. The lights in the darkness makes for a strange vision as if they are dancing points of flame.

This is just one of what I call a 'grind' day - 650+ miles with almost all of it on the slab. It's not pretty, but it's necessary so that is why I've spent the money and time to make my ST1100s as comfortable as possible. I have the road out of Dallas pretty much to myself, and for that I am thankful.

Looks like it's going to be a real pretty sunrise this morning.

The sun finally peaks its head above the horizon, and then the fun begins as I will spend the day heading primarily east - right into it.

But once it's up, I just rock on along. The cruise control is set, my feet are on the highway wings, my back against the backrest and my favorite tunes are playing nicely in my helmet.

I figure by the time I do my first tank of gas, there ought to be a Cracker Barrel open (they usually open at 6 AM) so I'll get some breakfast. One does not appear, so I make a quick gas stop and get back after it. I can always trust that Cracker Barrels will be clean, the food decent, and the service good (with rare exception) and the ice tea plentiful - and most of all very predictable. When I'm in 'grind it out' mode, I prefer no surprises along the way especially in the area of food. So my timing and my second tank work out about right and I pull into one near Bryant, Arkansas just southwest of Little Rock.

I usually get an omelet, but I go for the big breakfast with pork chops and all the trimmings. This will be the only meal for the day until I get to the house so I figure I'll load up. And thankfully, my sweet waitress leaves me a whole pitcher of tea so I can get my hydraulic level up for the day.

But I can't tarry long, so it's back out on the slab, as I take the I440 bypass round Little Rock, the traffic starts to pick up a bit.

As I have nothing but time and miles passing by, I contemplate what I've seen over the past few days in the Hill Country. One thing that really sticks in my mind is the Texas fascination about gates and entrance ways to property. I saw all sorts of variations on the them, from simple tree trunks standing at each side of the gate ...

to fancy tiled affairs complete with flags ...

to nice desert landscaping and serious iron work ...

to secure barriers with serious stonework ...

to immaculately manicured grounds with custom wood carving ...

to variations on a standard Texas theme. I found it to be very interesting to a feller who grew up in the country where if you had a gate that still swung on the gate post you were doing right well.

Ranching and farming in Arkansas, on the other hand, is a bit different affair. Off to my left I see a system that appears to be for flooding the fields and retaining the water. I have to assume it is for growing rice but I am just not sure.

Once I make the cut from I30 to I40 past Little Rock, the traffic lightens up again which makes it a little nicer. The problem with being on a motorcycle in heavy traffic is that if an inattentive driver goes stupid, the motorcyclist will probably be the one that gets hurt badly. So little traffic removes at least one danger factor in the ride.

But, the pleasantness does not last long as I get into Memphis and a construction zone. It's times like these that I wish filtering/lane splitting was legal across the US like it is in California and most of Europe.

But it finally clears up and I can see the Memphis skyline rapidly approaching.

From this sign I can count the mile markers to the Holler - there are 196 of them to where I get off the slab.

The temps are rising and the humidity hasn't gone anywhere, so I take a fuel and rest break just east of Memphis. From here, I can make it all the way to the Holler without another fuel stop.

But about the time I think I'm making good time, I hit another construction zone and begin the creep along.

One of the most frustrating things to me is when one trucker decides to pass another trucker and it turns into a parade or a race - I can't figure out which. They just drone on for miles, with neither driver willing to budge an inch. Finally a hill slows one of them down and I can wiggle through and get on with it.

It's good to be back in the Holler, but it will take some hot water and some good old fashioned elbow grease to get those cooked on bug splatters off SweetTreat.

It's been a great, relaxing ride for me to a place that has been on my 'ride list' for a good while. I know what Ken did to set up the ride was not trivial, having done it a time or two myself. I will always be thankful for his willingness to take me to the Hill Country of Texas but more importantly for being my friend.