Day 2 – I was unable to post anything yesterday due to connectivity issues. I had zero cell service and no internet. All I had was an electrical outlet and light. Light was not advisable but we’ll get to that later.
The day started out dreary. I awoke around 6:00am and felt that was just too early so decided to close my eyes for just a bit longer. That just a bit turned into two hours so I didn’t hit the road until 9:00. The sky was still overcast and you could feel the moisture hanging in the air. I went to bed last night feeling quite sore due to the hellish rain storm I fought the day before. Mostly my entire left side. But I woke up feeling pretty good. With camp broken down, Laurelin and I hit the road.
It was a quick mile up to the interstate. I had checked the weather before leaving and didn’t see anything major in our path so decided to keep my still wet rain gear stowed. This proved to be a bad decision. Not a mile after I merged onto the interstate the rain started. No wind, no storm, just rain. But it was heavy rain. I waited it out until I was starting to get too wet for comfort and soon found myself parked under on overpass, hazards flashing. It takes several minute to get the rain gear on, especially when you’re watching oncoming traffic the whole time. Any idiot not paying attention can take you out in an instant. Most people will get over if they can, truckers are generally the best about this but there are always those that have no concern for anyone but themselves and can’t be bothered with changing lanes.
About 10 minutes later we’re back on the road and again it takes less than a mile for the weather to change – the rain stops entirely. Now I’m just completely frustrated with good old Mother Nature. But I’m not stopping again, we’ve got only 20 miles to go before we hit Fort Smith and an Arkansas Harley-Davidson dealership. The rain does return but never gets bad enough for me to have to slow to lower than 60mph. By the time we hit the Arkansas state line the rain has stopped which is a good thing because I don’t want to have to try and get my camera out in the rain.
The Fort Smith dealership isn’t terribly far from the state line and I’ve soon got a photo of Laurelin out front. I contemplate removing my rain gear but ultimately decide I’d best keep it on for a bit longer, not that it matters much since I’m already wet. It does prove to be a good idea as we do hit more rain but again, it’s nothing too heavy. I don’t recognize anything riding through Fort Smith. Dad was stationed here for a couple of years but I was in fourth and fifth grade I think. I remember the area we lived in and the house though I don’t remember the street name. I also remember hiking up to the Roadrunner gas station for a drink and candy bar on several occasions. And tumbling down suicide hill (not sure if that’s what we called it) after thinking riding a rickety skateboard down it was a good idea. But nothing I’m seeing is bringing back any memories.
By the time I get to my first gas stop the clouds have begun to clear and the sun has started to shine. I pull off and into a grocery store gas station. It’s a place called Harp’s and pulling I realize I’ve been here before. Not a Harp’s, this Harp’s. I don’t remember the exact trip but it was one of my solo ones. I gas up and decide it’s time to stow the rain gear and start drying out. I was mostly dry when I started the day but the crotch and butt of my jeans were still a bit damp. Now my shirt is mostly soaked along with my lower legs. I need to get dry and only the open road is going to do that.
It doesn’t take long to dry out. Moving at speed can even dry out rolled up sleeve pretty quickly. The highway through Arkansas dips and rolls through the forested terrain which is an absolutely beautiful ride. Arkansas is easily in my top 5 of states to ride through. Our next stop will be Blacktop Harley in Columbia, Missouri. But first it’s lunchtime.
I find a place I’ve never heard of before, Flat Creek in Republic, Missouri. It’s a catfish based place and I feel it might be a small franchise. It’s a big place with plenty of seating but I of course opt to sit at the bar, no sense taking an entire table for just me. I think about some of the catfish options but ultimately choose the corned beef sub. I do love me some corned beef and have never thought to put it in a sandwich. Let me tell you now, IT. WAS. GOOD.
After the very enjoyable lunch it’s time to get back on the road. Starting up Laurelin I set of the car alarm next to me. I certainly wasn’t meaning to, but being backed into a spot you’ve got pressure and noise suddenly blasted into a wall of cars. I did chuckle a bit though.
It’s a bit of a ride into Columbia is long but still some great views. I do pass a dealership in Osage Beach which I later found would have saved me some miles. Blacktop Harley is of course closed but does sit right next to an Indian dealership which I find quite interesting. I’m sure all of the sales people and managers know each other so it would be tough as a customer to play them against each other. Hell, they may very well be owned be the same person.
After a quick photo we’re back off. It’s only about 60 more miles to camp but we’re off the highway and onto back roads. I don’t reach camp until about 6:15pm. I had made a reservation here because Dad and I stayed here night two of our trip. It’s a state park with 3 different camp loops but I don’t think I’m in the one we stayed in. I stop at the booth by the first camp loop but no one is there. I’m unsure what to do. Do I check in somewhere or just go to the site I was assigned? I ask a couple walking up the road and am told they checked in online so I try that. But it’s then that I realize I have no service. None. Zero bars. Nada. So I decide to just head to my site.
There’s a placard stuck to the sign post with my last name and check in/out dates so I feel like not checking in won’t be a problem. I get camp setup and Laurelin offloaded then walk next door. I ask the couple there if they have any cell service. I have a place to go for dinner already picked out but I need to know which direction to go in. They also don’t have any service but we do talk for a minute and they tell me that just up the road is a place I might be able to get enough service to get directions. So I head that way.
It’s a good 15 minute ride out to the Rustic Oak Cabin Steakhouse. The sun is already low in the sky so I know it’s going to be dark by the time I make it back to camp. The Rustic Cabin is not a fancy steakhouse. It’s an out of the way, vacation spot kind of steakhouse with a small souvenir area and an ice cream counter. But the food was excellent. I opted for a glazed salmon which was very good. A little crispy on the outside, not burnt and not dry on the inside.
It’s already dark when I leave the restaurant so it’s slow going back to camp. The area is a heavily wooded lake. Arriving back at camp, I get my night’s beverages iced down and head next door. I had told them I’d come back after dinner and have a beer with them if they were still out, and they are.
Mark and Carol are the tenants there and the son Clay and his family are a few sites down. Mark and Carol are from Wisconsin if I remember right and Clay and crew are from Nebraska, again, if I remember right. We spend a good bit of time chatting, mostly about my travels with and without Dad. Clay is very inquisitive about the biker lifestyle and asks a lot of questions and I don’t mind answering any of them. I’ll answer any question anyone has about this stuff. We also talk a bit about ourselves, our homes and barbeque.
Before long it’s time to head back to my camp to write. I came in too late to purchase any firewood but Mark graciously give me a bundle of his. I offer to pay for it but he won’t let me. Really great family. They had even offered me a steak dinner before I headed off to eat but I need to get to a place I could get service and notify certain people that I was OK.
The plan was to simply write up my daily post in a word document so I can quickly copy and paste to this site. The problem is the bugs. Any light source draws a massive cloud of bugs. Don’t know what they were but they were annoying. My camp light drew hundreds, maybe thousands of them around. There was no way I was going to be able to sit at a laptop and write for an hour or more. And trying to do it in a one man tent wasn’t going to do any good for my back. So instead I opted to sit by a fire for a bit before heading to bed. The fire did not want to cooperate though. It would get going decently for a bit but would end up dying on me. Nothing I tried would work. Much of the wood burnt up but I never got a good fire going.
Day 3 – I woke early again and very chilly. I tend to sleep with my sleeping bag unzipped just because it can get hot. Not this morning. It’s still early so I zip up and attempt to get a little more sleep. My attempt is not fruitful at all. I get some sleep but not much.
Camp is broken down and we’re back on the road around 8:30. It’s small two lane roads out of the lake area and then onto faster two lanes for much of Missouri. Our first destination is Dyersville, Iowa and the Field of Dream Movie Site. A stop Dad and I made on our trip together. I’ve curious to see the changes made since I was last there. I know they’ve added a big league ball field so they must have added more.
It’s a couple of hours to Iowa and the crossing feels familiar. I see the sign at the other end of a bridge crossing a river and feel like it’s the same one we stopped at to get our state sign photo. I do realize that there could be more than one of the same sign at the end of a bridge that crosses a river though.
The northern part of Missouri I run through turns into cornfields and crossing into Iowa is no different. In fact most of Iowa is corn. But the corn fields of Iowa can be breathtaking. Some are flat fields that cover several acres but some are just rolling hills of corn. And in some places the road gets high enough over a valley that you can see rolling hills for miles, dotted with farm houses, silos and barns. Truly is a breathtaking sight, to me at least, especially if you can appreciate what the American farmer truly means to this country.
I pull off for gas, a stretch and an energy drink. I’m getting drowsy already and need a boost. I run into a group of bikers from the area out for a ride and chat them up for a bit before heading inside. A few minutes later we’re back at it. Dyersville is getting closer and before long we’re pulling in. The driveway and parking is all gravel which isn’t ideal for two wheels, especially when you weigh about 1,200 pounds. But, the parking attendant tells me I can park in a patch of grass off to the side. I’ve still got to drive through gravel but don’t have to worry about trying to back up with loose rock beneath my feet.
A lot has changed since the last time I was at the Field of Dreams site. When Dad and I came it was just the field, the house, a barn and I think a little souvenir stand or booth. And you couldn’t go past a certain point towards the house as the original family still lived there. Now you can actually rent out rooms in the house, or the whole house. The barn is now the Dugout, a bar and grill which was closed because of the holiday sadly. There is also a souvenir shop that has been built and a concession stand for the original ball field. Then of course the major league field that was built in recent years for the Field of Dreams game they started doing. Sadly we can’t get over to that field because it’s owned by the MLB and they rightfully don’t trust the average American to not mess it up.
I didn’t know the Dugout existed before I arrive but I seemed perfect for lunch until I learned it was closed. The Stretch is the concession stand built for the original ball field. They offer all the basic ball field foods and beverages, along with the ball field prices. A single all beef hot dog is a mere $8. Not a footlong, just a regular bun length dog. But they do have a dog and beer combo for $13. It’s just that though, a dog and a beer, but the beer is 16oz so there’s that.
From there it’s time to head to Waukon, Iowa and the Iron Hill Harley dealership. It’s a lot of two lane farm road heading out of Dyersville. Corn planted right up to the road and fairly slow going. It’s really a great ride. Soon the corn backs away from the roadside and the speed opens up a bit more. Eventually the corn gives way and the road begins to twist and dive into the land. Down for several miles until meeting a river. It’s beautiful forested road. But that eventually gives way to corn. Most of the state is covered in corn, at least from what I’ve seen. The next several miles are the same, corn, corn and more corn. There’s so much corn that you can actually hide a police cruiser behind it. Yup, it’s true.
I know I’m speeding. The speed limit has been 55 for miles and doesn’t change for the rest of the day. What I don’t realize is by how much. Not until I spot a figure standing out from behind some corn pointing something at me. Then I realize it’s an officer, and then spot his cruiser as I pass. I back off and hit the speed limit hoping his radar malfunctioned or didn’t pick me up, or maybe he thinks I’m not worth the effort as bikes can be known to run, mostly sport bikes but not cruisers.
I get a few more miles down the road and start to think I might be OK but then I notice him behind me. And shortly after he flips on his lights. I’m done for. I pull over and do the usual stop routine, turn off the bike, take off the helmet and glove and dismount. I’m letting him know that I’m not going to take off on him. He steps out and before he says anything I tell him, “I knew I was speeding but I did not realize I was moving that fast. I was in cruise mode.” The officer is super cool and asks for all my stuff. I’ve still got temp tags so it takes an extra minute for him to run my info. But he comes back shortly and tells me all is good and I’m free to go with a warning, a blessing given how fast I was moving. We chat a bit about my travels current and previous and then I’m back at it, moving at the posted speed limit of 55, OK maybe 60.
It takes a bit of time but I finally make it to the Minnesota state line. I’m fairly certain this is where Dad and I crossed at. The sign is the same, a wooden sign that is very distinctive. I also realize that this to could be a sign that looks just like another along the Iowa/Minnesota border.
A few miles later and we finally roll into Marion, just southeast of Rochester. Dad and I stayed in Rochester when we were here and I’m pretty sure it was a motel but I’m camping again. I don’t recall the name of the place we ate but I’ve got the info back in my ride collection back home. I do know that it doesn’t exist anymore, it’s now a dentists office. So dinner tonight is at a place call the Purple Goat. It’s nice joint. Huge outdoor seating area and decent burger. Actually it was really good, the kind of burger you have to smash down just to fit it in your mouth.
After that it’s a not so quick beer run before heading back to camp. I remember there being some laws about buying beer here but can’t really remember what it was. I soon learn, after visiting two different gas stations, that the city of Rochester does not allow alcohol sales in convenience stores. You can only buy beer in liquor stores or grocery stores. And grocery stores are only allowed to sell 3/2 beer which is a max alcohol by volume (ABV) of 3.2%, this is also known as “near beer”.
Back at camp we’re settled in. It’s quiet here. Not a lot of folks here and I haven’t met anyone other than the gentlemen that guided me to my campsite earlier. We spoke for a few minutes as he used to ride as well. As to why he needed to guide me to camp I don’t know, there’s a chain link fence and road between me and the office. But any chat out here on the road is a good chat so I’m not complaining.
Tomorrow we have a semi late start planned. There’s a dealership here in town that I think opens at 9:00am so we can actually get inside to buy poker chips. The we head east into Wisconsin. It’s supposed to get cold tonight. Not cold really, just into the lower fifties. But I live Texas, the lower fifties can be a typical winter day for us. And for some Texans, you’d think the fifties were Alaskan weather, I’m not one of those. But still, the fifties is chilly so it’ll be a cold start to tomorrow. So until then, Good Night!
The Motorcycle Diaries of an Easy Rider 