We had the breakfast buffet. Lots of good food, but not a lot on my Heart Healthy list.
We wandered back to the motel where some had already headed out for their daily ride. Sherm and I decided we didn't want too big a production, so we headed out with the Texas girls and Didsbury Dave. Sherm let me lead the back way to Berryville (south to Ar 221). It's an easy enough route if you stick to the asphalt.
Sherm took over the lead as we headed through Berryville and on to Blue Eye, Missouri. This little town (population 167) sits astride the Missouri/Arkansas border.
I'd hang out in Blue Eye, Missouri
Where the water and the mountain collide
I took the lead again as we rode out of Blue Eye. We stopped at the gas station at JJ Junction for fuel. Sherm filled the little Honda again. This time, the calculator said 86.4 miles per gallon. Wow. Soon we'll have to drain gas out of it. We rode on up across the bridge over Table Rock Lake to US 65. Just before that intersection, there was a new traffic circle that led to a new development on the north side.
We turned south on US 65 and rode back across the Arkansas line. Towards Harrison, dark clouds were threatening but we turned west on US 62 before we reached them. I stopped in Alpena so we could check out a few shops.
When we came through here on Sunday, I had noted a chainsaw carving place. We took a look and watched some carving and also checked out a few antique shops.
While we were parked in Alpena, two red/orange Polaris Slingshots went through town headed east. Then as we were getting ready to ride, another stopped before continuing west ahead of us. We caught up with it before we reached Berryville, and then we got ahead in traffic. It followed us to Motel 62, where it kept going. On the way, we passed another one heading east. These things seem to be getting popular.
More people had arrived while we were away. I tried to document a few.
We were a little hungry after the ride, so Didsbury Dave and Model T (from Okie City) joined Sandy and I for lunch at the Route 62 diner. Sandy had a shake and I had a patty melt with real hamburger. The server was friendly. Very friendly. Maybe too friendly. We found out all about her driver's licence suspensions. The restaurant had a number of portraits on the wall. JFK was hung between Jackie and Marilyn Monroe. Fitting, I guess.
Back at the motel, we tried to get the temperamental WiFi to work so we could post some pictures of the day so far. We are having exactly the same issues that we had last year. Dropped connections, slow connections and, often, just an inability to connect.
For entertainment tonight, Sherm had arranged for a trip to see The George Brothers. They used to own the Ozark Mountain Hoedown Theater within walking distance of Motel 62. That was where we saw them the last two years. They sold the Hoedown when they started touring and now play a small venue called Outlaw Willie when they are in town. They feature country music (now a Willie Nelson tribute), comedy and audience interaction. The best advice is to not come to their attention. More on that in a minute.
Now more on keeping a low profile. Sherm, Sandy and I arrived at Outlaw Willie early because Sherm had all the names of the people who had paid. Watchman came in and told me Lucky Al had walked over to the Ozark Mountain Hoedown, apparently not aware of the change of venue. Not wanting Al to miss the show, I climbed on the bike to head back and let him know. Half way back, my cell phone rang but I couldn't answer hands free because I wasn't wearing a helmet/headset. It kept ringing.
I found Al waiting under the Hoedown sign, cell phone in hand. He kept calling because my US cell phone message kept telling him I wasn't in the USA. My bad. He asked for a ride to the show because he had disassembled the front brakes on his bike. I said sure, but he'd have to find another way back.
Al is not a small lad. I adjusted my spring pre-load to the max 25, wishing for maybe 40. I could feel the weight behind me as we rode back through town but it didn't become an issue until we pulled into the parking lot. Riders very often don't have the best passenger instincts. When the bike stops, don't shift your weight to one side to try to get a foot on the ground. I almost lost it one way and then the other. Brother P. Nutt George stepped in to help keep the bike upright. This, of course, painted a bullseye on both of us. It didn't help that Celine Dion was singing My Heart Will Go On over the bike stereo as we pulled in.
There were 29 of us and two walk-in folks from Kansas City when the show started at 7:30 sharp. The brothers opened with Willie. Then they (Randall particularly) interacted with some of the audience members. Al and I were near the top of the list (I was either cue-ball due to my very short hair or Gold Wing). A quartet of guys including both of us and Southern Draw were drafted to sing the refrain from Momma, Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Cowboys. I actually enjoyed that. There was some dancing and more group participation. Because Ponytail won't sing Julio Iglesias, they drafted a few guys to sing his part in To All The Girls I Loved Before. These included Al, Jason, Southern Draw, Sherm and 'Chicken Legs' Lanny.
I think everyone enjoyed the show. I know we did. My only personal disappointment was that Leslie 'Girl' Wright wasn't there.
We rode back to the motel and spent the evening hanging out in the parking lot. Sandy and I didn't get to bed until nearly midnight, way late for us these days.
Today's Route (96 motorcycle miles):