Rain Delay

So the plan for last weekend was two nights of camping at Noccalula Falls with another family that also has two girls. The first night was great, the facility was awesome and super kid friendly. We pitched the tents, made a fire, cooked burgers and made smores. All in all, it was a pretty great first camping experience for our kids.

Unfortunately two approaching storm systems would have made for a full day of rain and in the interest of not keeping four kids inside a tent all day we broke camp and headed home. We did decide to keep the weekend with our friends going and instead spent Saturday at their house.

Some time ago my buddy Jason bought the KZ650 that had been sitting in my garage. Since we had a cooler full of cold beer and a non-running bike that needed attention, our plans were pretty clear. He had already taken the carbs apart and started cleaning them. We used our time reassembling and adjusting them. Once we got everything together again the bike fired up first kick. They needed more adjustment but I was able to take the bike down the road before the day was out. There is still work needed to get the beast road worthy. I'm sure I'll see another day in his garage before all is said and done.

Austin and Back, Part 1

So I had big plans to document this run with words like I did the OK is OK trip but there was too much fun being packed in to keep a ride journal going. I even went so far as to compose some drunkenly one night at 4am but when I looked back it was just incoherent and laughable. As a result, two posts of some pics is all you get. Enjoy and if you ever have a chance to visit Austin or camp in Louisiana or Mississippi, I highly recommend all three. 

 Officer Smith

 This place...just wow. Overwhelming.

Blur

Photo courtesy of Kustom Jeff

So the last couple weeks have been a blur. I am going to take a page from my other blog and let a few pictures do the talking. An in depth report is coming once I have a chance to get my thoughts together.

 

In other news, I am now on Instagram here. 

Barber's Vintage Festival 2013

Once again it was an excellent year. I spent so much time hanging out with folks I don't get to see ofter enough and meeting new people that I didn't see any of the races, any of the special events or anything but the swap meet area really. Thanks to the shine, rum and cold beers a lot of it was a blur. It was great and I even bought a little over an 8th of a minibike. After a couple weeks it ended up in the garage and I've been riding...a lot.

Special thanks to the Inbreds RC for making me feel at home and giving me a place to crash. Also to the Haints for a great party and Lowbrow for the Coctagon. It was great meeting the men of MHT and kicking it with the BamaRides crew. Seriously, if you don't go to this event you are completly missing out.

 

08/02/13

     We awoke, still tired from the day before. Thankfully it would be an easy day. Chris decided it was high time we had a proper camp breakfast and proceeded to make pan biscuits and gravy and it really hit the spot. His camp cooking is head and shoulders above the food heating that I do. It was simple ingredients but prepared well and we ate every bit.

      Our first stop was at the local Harley dealership. Wyatt has a huge collection of dealer shirts, by his count around 170. He wanted to grab one and the rest of us drank free coffee. We got some good advice on a place to eat and hit it before moving on.
     It had been an easy ride from the KOA in Alma to Fort Smith proper. As the last frontier before the Indian wilderness, it prides itself on its history and most of the old buildings remain mixed in with the new. The museums were interesting and full of artifacts and we hit the big ones.

     Judge Parker, known as the hanging judge, was a town favorite and seeing his courtroom and a replica of the gallows was pretty slick. He was not a fan of that brand of sentencing but was strict to the law. The jail below the court house was also amazing to see. The tiny room held around 100 men at some times, crowded by any standard. With a lack of facilities and the extreme climate conditions, it earned the nickname "Hell on the Border." We also saw the old "sporting house" but it was closed when we arrived so we missed the chance to sample the goods.

      Walking downtown, we looked in a few shops and drank more coffee. Though it was an easy riding day, it was full of the history of the area. It was pretty amazing, being in the jail and seeing the courtroom. We decided to return to the camp site and plan for the next day.
     I ate soup and crackers, a far cry from the breakfast we had earlier. I looked over the map. Tomorrow we leave for home and back to reality. At close to 700 miles to home, I needed the rest.

Recap From Monday

Typed this up for Bamarides.com.

If the first question out of your mouth after the handshake is "How do you feel about riding farther, faster and longer and coming back when it will be darker and colder?" and the reply is "What are you thinking" instead of "no," you know you are in the company of someone who isn't afraid to ride. 

You could call what we did meandering, though we had a very specific goal: I needed to scout a campsite at Payne Lake for an upcoming trip. I looked at the roads and connecting roads on the map and laid the tape on the tank before leaving. We shot the breeze for a minute before heading out. 

Glenn is a trip if you've never met him. He has this affable yet slightly mischievous way that makes him seem like he is up for anything. He carries a lot of bags on his bike and they are topped to the brim just in case that "anything" breaks out at a given moment. He's bi-lingual (thanks to immersion) and married (also thanks to immersion) and has one child. A family guy, like me. The Navy took him to more places I'll ever be and man...his stories have stories. 

We beat a path down Shades Crest and crossed to the South section. I had never lead on this route before and I blew a turn which we quickly fixed. I remember checking roads on Google maps to make sure they were't dirt and that they looked paved...and they were. That being said, they were't paved well and every offshoot road was dirt. We blasted down the road, which was plenty curvy, thinking at any minute we'd run out of pavement and I'd be a liar for saying it was an all street ride. We made it to the end and with a quick right we were back on solid road. 

We hit some patches of grooved pavement and passed by West Blocton, Centreville and Brent and made our turn onto Payne lake road. This was a killer stretch that we bombed over, I was a liar here for sure hitting at least +10. The sun was quickly retreating and my fingers were good and cold. I knew were in for some fun later. 

The campsite was a ghost town: eerily empty ranger station, eerily empty camp host house. We ran around to the boat launch to take a look at the water and the view was good. We bs'd a little more and took some pictures. Riding to the open loop we did see one couple camping with a horse trailer. They eyed us uneasily at times and graced us with a cryptic head nod which may or may not have been a gypsy curse. 

We looked at the sites and made sure the bathrooms had everything the wife would need on our trip. More bs'ing, more photos. We departed smiling at our silent companions hoping to make them rethink their actions upon us. Back to the cold hands, I took leather Thinsulate lined gloves to ride in but that didn't stop three of my digits from becoming pale with purple nails. I rubbed my hands together and thought about how life would be if I had to ditch "JT" and answer to "Ol' Seven Fingers." We stopped for gas in Centreville and talked routes back. Glenn produced some extra gloves from one of his hard bags (which I am pretty sure he inherited from Mary Poppins) and I tried them but decided to keep on with my gauntlets. 

Instead of fighting wildlife and going through Montevallo, we made a b-line for the interstate. While boring, they are normally better lit and warmer. We killed it on this stretch making good time and hit 11 and finally the interstate. Again, tearing ass in the cold darkness I kept an eye on Glenn. We made our way to a crossroads and parted ways. The last words of the day were via PM, but they won't be the last. 

We covered about 150 miles and at least 3 counties from 4:00 to 7:45. I didn't take many pictures because Glenn had the good equipment and most of the time was spent riding. I was freezing most of the night after but eventually got color and feeling back in all 10 of my fingers. It was a great afternoon for a ride and I was grateful to have someone to go with.

As seen this past weekend...

Insomnia Activities

Get Gas.

Ride Sidewalks.

Explore.

Trespass.

Feel patriotic.

Attempt parts shopping.