Here we go. The weather is great, take-off Temps in the upper 50's and forecast is sunny with highs in the 80's. I'm wearing my standard gear: leathers, "WoolPro Scout" base layer, helmet, and sunglasses. Jesse arrived and after a quick breakfast, we took off to join up with john. Managed to get halfway there before I remembered that I was supposed to call him and let him know we were on the way. Thankfully I am old enough to write off these minor lapses in memory as normal. John, on the other hand, being even older than I, had by some miracle actually remembered my promise and was waiting on the phone call. After the appropriate chastisement, we happy three were on our way south. At least, I was happy. My two companions were a tad bit miffed at having to spend the next 8 hours or so wearing a helmet through the entire State of Missouri. Oh well, into each life a little rain must fall.
We had hoped to make decent time and arrive at our takeoff point around Brashears, AR that night. It soon became apparent that this was an unreasonable expectation. Two factors became relevant in coming to that conclusion: first, I found a Golden Corral at which to dine; and second, there was a Harley dealership in Osage Beach. Now, most people who do not ride, would not give a second thought to either factor in computing how much time it will take to get from point A to point B. They are so naive. As to the Golden Corral, that mecca of culinary expertise and limitless choices in both type and amount of consumable delicacies, this will undoubtedly add at least an hour to the trip. Then there is the necessary after meal cigarette, and at least 15 minutes of complaining that one ate too much and can't climb onto one's bike. The second factor is the Harley dealership. I've had two Harleys over the years, thousands of miles on them, and years in the seat, and yet I still can not understand why whenever a Harley dealership is within sight, the bikes develop a mind of their own and turn into the parking lot. They will remain unmoved until the rider goes inside and buys the obligatory tshirt for himself and his or her significant other. Only then will the motor restart. Needless to say, that explains why we only made it to Bull Shoals, Arkansas before we called it a night.
Our constantly-changing plan called for us to camp in a state park overnight, the location of which was well-known to us. Well, at least I knew where it was. Its a nice little park with all the amenities and fairly quiet. Unfortunately, it was also recently converted to RV use only. And, due to the late hour, it was also closed. "No problem" we thought, "we'll just fall back on Plan B". Plan B was the small camping area at the Bull Shoals Boat Dock. No real amenities but there were usually spaces available. Unfortunately, Plan B did not take into account that all the flat spaces for tents would be occupied by campers that looked like they had not been moved since last summer. This called for a rapidly improvised Plan C: go to the nearest liquor store and ask where 3 hapless bikers could put up their tents without getting arrested. This plan actually worked. The gracious gentleman at the liquor store pointed us to a camping area in a city park and we managed to get our tents erected in the dark without much trouble. It wasn't until the next morning until someone came by and told us we couldn't pitch our tents there, but by then we were getting ready to leave anyway. Ahh, the joys of a well-planned itinerary.
Night time setup.
Morning coffee before finding out that we weren't supposed to be camping there. Wearing my WoolPro hoodie, nice and comfy. Sasquatch in the background before he's had his morning Pepsi.
A better view of the WoolPro hoodie. Best if worn over a base layer, but feels very nice against the bare skin too. Love the pockets.