Having only one hand doesn’t slow down Jimmy Brown. Here he is on his
1978 Yamaha XS-650 which he rode into Texarkana from Hope.

I was looking out my second-story office window a few days ago and noticed a motorcycle parked in front of the building. I was trying to identify the make when the rider comes back and starts loading up. I immediately ran for the stairs hoping to get to the front door before he left. I just had to talk to this guy.
I exited the front door and got a better look at the prosthetic hook protruding from the rider’s right sleeve. It was this that had sparked my curiosity. I identified myself as a blog writer and asked if he minded if I asked a few questions and blogged about him.
Mr. Brown has owned five motorcycles over the years, ranging from those with 50cc motors to 750. His current ride is a 1978 Yamaha XS-650. He showed me how he’s moved the throttle to the left side and demonstrated using it in conjunction with the clutch. He primarily brakes with the foot- actuated rear brake, but showed me the little screw he’s added to the end of the front brake lever on the right handle bar. It stops the hook from sliding off so that he can use the front brake as well if he chooses to do so.
I ask if he has a motorcycle endorsement, and he pulls his license out to show me that he does.
“Were there any problems getting your license?” I ask.
“I got my license in 1973,” he explains. “I lost my hand in 1976.”
He told me he started riding again in 1978, and that he never had any problems or fear about getting back on his bikes.
“I just got on and started riding,” he said. “I never was afraid I couldn’t do it.”
Currently Mr. Brown doesn’t have a car, so the 650 Yamaha is his primary means of transportation. He doesn’t belong to a motorcycle club, or routinely ride with a large group of people. He is not, then, your typical baby boom biker. He’s just a man who has always liked and ridden motorcycles. An original free spirit, seemingly unaware that he has a “disability.”
Mr Brown had no intention of impressing me when he hopped his bike and rode to town. But he did.

－ Guy Wheatley

Title: Talimena Run
Location: Meet at Whisky River Harley Davidson
Description: Sunday May 15 is the last day of standard registration.
The Talimena Run is 3 days of motorcycles, msic, food nad fellowship May 26 through 28 to benifit the Hooks Children’s Ministry of Hooks Texas.
The run begins Thursday May 26 with a meet and greet ar Whisky River Harley Davidson with a group ride to Fisherman’s Wharf in Hot Springs, Ark., to follow Friday. The Talimena Run Mountain Ride is Saturday, May 28 to Queen Wilhelmina State Park in Mena, Ark. Lunch and dinner will be provided both Friday and Saturday. Points Run tickets will be available for chances to win prizes both days as well.
Standard registration for the run is $40 per person. Cost for registration after Sunday is $50.
For information or to register, call Neil Jones at (903) 547-6720
Start Date: 2011-05-26
End Date: 2011-05-28

The Court House on the square in Magnolia, Ark.

My wife and I took a quick ride Saturday to Magnolia, Ark. The temperature was in the upper 60s by noon and the sun was shining. We hadn’t been on the bike together in months and despite the list of chores needing to be done, we hopped the bike and hit the road. I was amazed that less than seven days earlier, we still had snow on the ground and that in less than 5 days, we would again be under threat of winter weather with bitter temperatures. On this mild day with the sun shining from an azure sky, it was hard to believe we were actually in the depth of winter, or at least what East Texas produces as winter.
We had no destination in mind. The intent was to simply burn some gas and get some wind and sun in our faces. We just headed east on U.S. Highway 82 and, after a little more than an hour, found ourselves pulling into Magnolia. We parked on the square and started sightseeing.
As we wandered into an antique shop, I soon had reason to be thankful we’d come on the motorcycle. Had we been in the pickup, I’m sure we’d have hauled several large pieces back with us. As it was, we had to moderate our shopping to accommodate the remaining capacity of the trunk and saddlebags. We already had extra clothing with us in case the weather turned cold, so we could only buy as much as we could stow in the remaining space. We secured our treasures, then decided it was time to start back home. We weren’t sure exactly when the weather might turn on us and wanted to be home before the sun went down.
We put about 120 miles on the road that day with three hours of saddle time. Out of shape and practice, this short ride left us stiff and tired but happy. The day had the magical feel of an Indian summer. It was wonderfully renewing, after hiding inside from the winter weather, to be free on the road with the wind in our hair. There was a timelessness to the day, possibly because it was so incongruously crammed between two winter storms. And perusing relics of times past in an antique store on such a day simply added to the ethereal and ageless feel. The souvenirs with which we returned are from another time as well as another place.
The motorcycle on this day was far more than a simple mechanical conveyance. It became a magical machine that took us on a timeless journey to a place that exists more in the heart than on the map.

－ Guy Wheatley

Hwy 71, just south of De Queen Arkansas on a 2008 fall ride.

As summer came to a close this year, I again swore that I’d make the Talimena run as the leaves changed. As I’ve done so many years in the past, I missed it. We made one run in early October, but that was before the colorful display. Now I sit here, looking at nearly bare trees and wonder how it has happened yet again.
The optimal weekends would have been sometime during the first three weekends of November. The first weekend of November was dedicated to some nonoptional house repair. The balcony was threatening to fall off the front of the house, so I spent that weekend replacing a support column. It rained buckets the second weekend, and we had a class reunion scheduled for the third weekend. And just like that, the color run of 2010 was gone.
So the bikes sit in my carport with only an occasional ride to the store or to work. And that’s the best I can hope for the rest of the year. The holidays mean weekends are all spoken for with visits to or from the kids. Even if we do actually get a weekend at home by ourselves, we will need it for packing, wrapping and mailing gifts. Once we get past the holidays and into the new year, we’ll be able to leather up and ride on weekends it’s not raining or icy.
It’s strange how my life allows me to ride in the heat of summer and the cold of winter, but insists I miss the prettiest time of year. Fall has always been the time I most enjoy being outdoors. When I fantasize about the perfect ride, it’s always down a peaceful winding road, littered with fall leaves.
Well, by golly, I’ll make it for sure next year!

I rode the Talimena Scenic drive recently. This is a 53-mile mountainous road between Talihina, Okla., and Mena, Ark. This is one of those roads made for motorcycles. This road was the reason we were camping at Queen Wilhelmena State Park. I ran the 13-mile stretch from the lodge atop Rich Mountain back into Mena six times while we were there. I only made the longer 40-mile run from the lodge to Talihina twice. Once going east to west, then going west to east. Our original plan was to leave our campsite at the park, then make the run before heading home to Texarkana through Oklahoma from Talihina. But sitting in Talihina, we decided we had to make the run at least one more time. That meant going home, back through Mena.
I was experimenting with a video camera mounted to my bike. I was unfamiliar with it and only managed to get a short segment of the run leaving the lodge heading toward Mena. I missed the best part of the road because the camera timed out before we got to the twisties.
This was my fourth run of this stretch of road and I was riding fairly aggressively. I wanted to get some good video. One thing I did manage to capture on camera was a narrow miss with a squirrel. I was going into a long curve and saw the little guy come hopping across the road from the left side. I decided to try to take the line as far to the right as I could to give him as much time as possible to stop. I was fairly sure that if I tried to go behind him, he’d turn at the last minute and I’d hit him. In the video, you can see me drifting toward the right side of the road as the furry little kamikaze keeps coming.
At the last second he makes an impossible move and darts back the way he came. I then gently eased my line back toward the center of the road. Or at least that’s what I remember.
Watching the video, I’m surprised to see a substantial swerve right after missing Rocky. At first I thought it was a delayed attempt to avoid rodenticide. But the jag back toward the center lane clearly comes after passing the squirrel. It feels like I might have tried to give the varmint every extra inch by standing the bike up trying to get the wheel a few centimeters further to the right. The visible jag is clearly me trying to get back into a proper cornering line.
The thing is, I have absolutely no memory of doing that. Ultimately it made no difference, but if I had gone down there, I would have sworn that I was holding an even line. But in fact, I wobbled my way through the rest of the curve. It’s not a big deal really, but I find it disconcerting that my memory of the event could be so different from the facts recorded by my camera. It makes me question the validity of any memories during a stressful moment. It also goes a way toward explaining how in the aftermath of an accident, you can have two people both adamant that the other party is at fault.
I think the squirrel and I both learned a lesson. Hopefully he learned to watch out for motorcycles, and I learned that memory can be squirrely.

－ Guy Wheatley

Getting food ready for dinner as the campfire burns merrily at
Queen Wilhelmena State Park.

I took a week of vacation last week. Typical of my recent vacations, most of this one was spent working on the house. Buying a “fixer upper” seemed like such a good idea when I was a young lad in my 40s. Now in my mid 50s I’m starting to question the concept. But all work and no play makes for a dull vacation, so we did take two days off for a quick run up to Queen Wilhelmena State Park. It turns out to be a fantastic trip.
We take the backroads going by Millwood lake up to Hot Springs. Then we follow Highway 270 west, through the Ouachita National forrest over to Mena. We get to the camp ground right at 5:00 pm. By the time we registered and get the tent set up, it is almost 6:00. The plan is to run back to Mena and pick up sandwich supplies. I want to be back before dark, so we don’t have much time to look for firewood before hitting the road. Supplies in hand, we head back up skyline drive for the third time that day.
The sun is just dropping behind the mountain as we begin the 13 mile climb back to the campsite. The road is dark, lighted only by my headlight, but the sky is afire with the setting sun. The sky, at a little more than 2,000 feet, is clear and free of light pollution. I’d already noticed how blue it was during the day. Now, as the sun sets, it’s showing me colors I haven’t seen in years. Fiery orange silhouetting the mountain tops slowly changes to a deep velvet blue then dark violet. Brilliant stars speckle the sky overhead. Leaves haven’t started to change yet, but the air is still crisp with the promise of fall.
Riding this twisting mountainous road at night through bear country is foolish, but the beauty of it completely enraptures me. I think about stopping and taking a picture, but I know that a photo can never capture the moment. This environment has to be felt, more than seen. Some experiences are worth the risk, and this may be one of them.
Back at the campground, we start a fire and settle down to make and eat our sandwiches. Tomorrow we will run the Telimena Scenic Drive. Our plan was to then make our way home from Talihena Oklahoma. But plans change. I’ll blog a couple of more times about this trip and cover the scenic run in future posts.
The wind was brisk atop Rich mountain. I bungie the tent to the concrete wheel chock at the back of the parking pad to keep it from blowing away. Gusts of wind deform the tent throughout the night, but we sleep remarkably well. A long day of riding can do that for you.
Up the next morning, I’m surprised to find that I’m not as stiff as I expect to be. A quick run back into Mena for breakfast means two more runs of the 13 mile segment of skyline drive between the lodge and town. What a great way to start a day.

－ Guy Wheatley

Getting some coffee thawing out at Burge’s

The weather was indeterminate and I still remembered last weekend’s abbreviated ride. But we had been planning to hit the Daffodil Festival in Camden for some time, so we loaded up and hit the road anyway. Besides I was still craving a fried pie from Burge’s, so we were going to come back through Magnolia and Lewisville and take care of that piece of business.
Leaden clouds covered the sky, with the occasional patch of blue peeking through. The meteorologist promised there’d be no rain, and she was right. Temperatures were in the mid- to upper 40s as we pulled out, so we were in full leathers.
By the time we got to Hope, a mere 35 miles up the road, we had to find someplace to thaw out. We got some hot coffee, got rid of some we’d drunk that morning, thawed out a little and got back on the road. Heading east on Arkansas Highway 278 for the 50-mile run into Camden, we saw a little more of the sun. I could feel it warming up my black leather jacket and chaps, but it never stayed with us long enough to completely knock the chill.
We made it to Camden and discovered that many employee groups from Lockheed Martin were set up in tents and giving away free food. I never fully understood why, but that didn’t stop me from chowing down. Man! Those folks can cook! Stuffed like a tic, I figured Burge’s was going to miss out on my patronage this trip too.
We missed the Civil War re-enactments earlier that morning, but spent several hours checking out the food, vendors, and the bike show. I kept thinking that as the day wore on, the sun might come out more and it might warm up. It didn’t warm up much.
By 3 we were ready to head back. We gassed up in Camden, so I didn’t plan to stop until we got home. By the time we hit U.S. Highway 82 East out of Magnolia, I was starting to shiver. As we pulled into Lewisville, I started to think about how good a cup of coffee would be, so I flipped on the blinker, hooked a right into Lewisville, and headed for Burge’s. As full as I was, I found just enough room for a fried pie.
I’ve ridden in colder weather, but this time I hadn’t put on quite enough gear. Thank goodness for the pie and coffee.

Click here to see photo gallery

— Guy Wheatley

A frequent stop on our rides in southwest Arkansas is Burge’s

We took a short ride last weekend. It was shorter than we intended for it to be. This was the first really nice weekend this year and we were determined to get out on the road. I mapped out about a 170-mile circuitous route that I figured would take about 4-1/2 hours at the snail’s pace I intended to go. We’d head up to Ashdown, over to Hope, then south to Lewisville. We’d stop there for ice cream and fried pies at Burge’s then keep heading south until we ran into Louisiana Highway 2. A quick jaunt west on LA-2 would bring us back into Arkansas where we’d pick Highway 71 north for the final run back into Texarkana. That was the plan.
One advantage of running a circle around town is that if I need to get back home, I’m never more than about an hour away. We’ve got new people at work and I wanted to be close enough to get back if something came up that they didn’t have the experience to handle. Work wasn’t what cut the ride short, though.
About 58 miles into our ride the fact that we hadn’t been on the bike much since last fall began to assert itself. Muscles in my neck and shoulder started locking up and tried to pull my head to the middle of my back. My beautiful passenger wasn’t fairing much better. We were riding my ’94 Honda Magna. Despite my attempt to drive like an adult, Maggie has a tendency to be a little sporty pulling away from a stop. I could hear the missus grunt a little louder each time I rolled on the throttle. By the time we rolled into Hope, the ride had stopped being fun and was simply an endurance contest.
The other couple riding with us assured us they were also tired and ready to head for home. It’s possible, but I really think they were just trying to make us feel better. Whatever the reason, they followed us back to Texarkana.
I was surprised by how out of shape I was. The wife and I were both sore and stiff the next day. I’ve been riding the bike for most of what passes for winter here in East Texas. But looking back now I realize that these were short hops. From home to work is barely nine blocks. A run to the store or Bike Night is only a few miles. These little rides weren’t long enough to maintain my endurance. Hmmmm. That may help explain the extra 15 pounds I’m carrying around since last summer.
The weather is getting warmer and I’m hoping for some sunny weekends. By June I’ll be ready for 500 miles, weigh 15 pounds less and have some color on my cheeks.

Taking a break at a road-side park.

The weather is warming up and the road is calling. It’s time to start planning weekend trips to some of the festivals in the area. Weekend rides are different from my daily commute in one important aspect. Most of my weekend riding is two up with my wife, and that changes the dynamic in more ways than just weight distribution on the bike.
Most of the time when I’m on my own, the bike is just the mode of transportation I’ve chosen. Even though I thoroughly intend to enjoy the commute, there will be an event or destination that was the impetus for the trip. The weekend, two-up trips are as much about the ride as they are about any particular place we’re going. We’re usually not on a schedule so we can hit the road whenever we get around to it. We’re also likely to take a more leisurely route.
Since we’re not in a hurry to get there, where ever “there” may be, we’ll take soft drinks and snacks along. If we get a little tired, or just see a pretty spot, we’ll pull over and take a break. This is not the riding that gets your heart pounding. This is riding that lowers you blood pressure.
With the saddle bags and T-bag, we’ve got a good amount of storage, but we can’t load the bike up too much. We might need some room once we get where we’re going. There are vendors at these little summer festivals, and we’ve got to leave room for some of their wares. One of the disadvantages of going on the bike is that you’re limited in how much you can haul back home. Or wait! Maybe that’s actually and advantage.
Other than spending time with the grandkids, I can’t imagine anything I’d rather be doing than riding with my wife on the seat behind me. It’s funny how adding a rider makes the bike lighter.

— Guy Wheatley

Iron Bridge on U. S. Highway 67

There will be a lot of people on I-30 between Texarkana and Little Rock on any given day. If the goal is to eat up miles as fast as possible, then that is the best route. Highway 67 between Texarkana and Little Rock offers a very different travel experience than that found on I-30. Less than a mile to the east of the controlled access, four-lane corridor, a more leisurely and scenic journey awaits.
Before I-30’s construction in the 1960s, U.S. Highway 67 was the main route between Little Rock and Dallas. Most of the old highway remains between Texarkana and Benton. It’s amazing that these two roads, so close together can be so different. For one thing, taking the older route will add almost 2 hours to the trip. Google only calculates an additional hour-and-a-half, but that is actual rolling time. I say two hours because of the many stops you will have to make going through small towns. Google fails to adequately take into account the time you’ll spend stopped at intersections, stoplights and other attractions that will stop you for a few seconds or minutes.
And those small towns are part of the charm and appeal this route offers. You can find little main-street and road-side cafes offering food and atmosphere you won’t find along the interstate. Even the chain convenience stores are different here. Clerks greet patrons with first names and genuinely friendly smiles.
I’ve had the opportunity to take that route several times on trips to Little Rock and Cabot. One of the most memorable was a circular day run starting out on U.S. Highway 71, and going through Hot Springs. (Ride report and photos here.)
My wife was riding two up with me and my son was with us on his bike. We’d planned to spend the night in Hot Springs, but the weather was nice and we just weren’t through riding. So we left Hot Springs about 11 pm and headed south down 67.
A beautiful full moon came out and rode with us. As the temperature dropped, mist rolled out of the ditches creating dancing wraths that disappeared as our bikes ran through them.
As we pulled into the driveway at 2 a.m., we were exhausted. But I could have continued this beautiful ride for a few more miles.
If you haven’t been on this stretch of road for awhile, give it a try the next time your out on a lazy run.

— Guy Wheatley