And... We're Back
1600 miles later... approximately 500 of them on dirt. We can now say we know Arkansas... and when I say know... I mean it in the biblical sense. We've seen Arkansas as few Arkansans have... from the pancake flat rice farms and cat fish farms in the south... up through the Ozark National Forest and all points in between. I won't even pretend to accurately list all the little towns passed through... but I'll tell ya the ones that stick in my mind this morning...
Helena, Clarendon, Beebe, Heber Springs, Oark, Clarksville, Lincoln... and Lord... maybe... 100 others... I guess it wouldn't be fair otherwise... so before I run off to play with my boys I'll share one tale.
Now what we were ridin' is called the Trans Am Trail. If you can imagine... the prick that planned the route sells highlighted county maps... and roll charts. No GPS directions. He's afraid if he gives those out... people will share them. So... here we go... riding down dirt roads like its 1960.... scrolling a little paper ribbon with turn by turn instructions printed on it like a never ending reciept.
Thankfully we at least had the GPS way points for most of the turns.
Well anyway when we finally made it to Helena and started the trail we were both pretty fired up... but we were not yet in TAT mode... we'd been on big roads all day. So here is my poor brother... following these damned instructions on this damned ancient device. And he's so caught up in making sure we're in the right spot... he apparently forgets exactly what we're doing in the first place. Sure enough... we make this left turn... and up ahead... I could see this coming... oh lord... 1000 yards in front of us... road turns to gravel... And up there is JAC... with his face stuck on the GPS.
If this had been caught on video it would've been one of the great Oh Shit moments of all time.
He didn't see the gravel until the bike was already in it... and it was that deep pea gravel crap... hell on bikes. Oh man... bike was floppin' ever which way... he was kickin' his legs out this way and that... and I was laughin' my ass off.
He held her up... somehow... and he took it real well... I mean when your riding buddies can be heard laughin' 50 yards behind ya... well... something probably went wrong. Anyway... as you can imagine... we've a million tales to tell.
But in the mean time... I have a question for the ladies....
What in the hell is attactive about a couple of dirty, stinky men riding around on dirt bikes? We've never been so tired nor nasty in our whole lives... and I am skeptical that we've ever been so thoroughly and consistently attractive to the fairer sex. I mean here we were out on our own... and we've got every damned woman and girl throwing overt signals at us. Waitresses would drop down on their knees beside our seats and put their hand on our knees while we "chatted"... or my personal favorite... they'd bend over... plop tits on the table... and look up and say, "Is their anything else y'all need?" while straining their neck and arching their back to make sure we got to see every possible millimeter of cleavage.
DrWho's theory is... the male having physical fun is at his most attractive state.
Anyway.. we behaved ourselves in that area... but I'm pretty sure if we'd stayed gone another couple days... JAC woulda been humpin' my leg.