BizJetGuy

The past two days have been a mixture of heaven and hell. I just rolled into the parking lot in the Indianapolis area after a long two days. Yesterday started at 4 am EDT with a drive out to the airport to catch the earliest flight to Houston.

After a delay due to weather, we finally departed and hit the ground in Houston around 8 am - 30 minutes late but none the worse for wear. I get a taxi ride up to my friend's house in The Woodlands where the Fut has been hiding since last Thursday because of our move from Texas to Indiana. The taxi ride was the second worse taxi ride I've ever had in my life. Nothing can beat my New Delhi experience but this guy was trying his level best. It was either WOT or slam on the brakes... nothing in between. I was beginning to wonder if this trip was over before it ever really began.

Anyhow, I get all packed up and start rolling out of the Houston area around 9:30 CDT. Highway 59 out of Texas is part of the "Hell" portion of the trip. It was hot. It was flat. It was dull. There was light at the end of the tunnel, however, and that light is named Highway 23 in Arkansas. From 59 I took TX 8 west of Texarkana and then 71 through Mena, AR. The goal at the end of the day was to get to Eureka Springs by sundown and 23 was the route to get me there. The 75 miles between Ozark, AR and Eureka Springs was the "Heaven" portion of the trip and I highly recommend that route to anyone - especially you guys going to Moto GP from the Texas area!

Dateline: Eureka Springs, AR. I arrive about 8:15 pm in great spirits from my 23 experience and get a room at The Lodge for a whopping $39 per night (discounted from $42 'cause I'm riding a bike). There was a restaurant next door called Cruizer's 62 that I highly recommend. They were closing as I staggered in but Sharon kept the kitchen open so I could enjoy a great burger and a couple of ice cold beers. Highly recommended also.

When I checked into the hotel, there were a few bikes parked under the awning at the entrance to the "lobby" - a Ducati Multistrada, Honda Shadow 1100 and a Fatboy all with Iowa plates. In the morning, while loading up again for my final push to Indy, I struck up a conversation with the owner of the Fatboy. Turns out he, his wife and his sister-in-law take two weeks every year and tour on their bikes. They were on day four. Cool guy and I'm jealous of the freedom of his trip. It seems mine are always tied to the calendar and the clock.

Hwy 23 blissfully continued north out of Eureka Springs and into Missouri. I missed the "Welcome to Missouri" sign and became disenchanted with photographic documentation of my epic journey, therefore missing the remaining State signs. My route today took me on MO 86 to 65 North through Branson and up to I-44 in Springfield. I do not recommend 86 as it has been repaved with some awful material and the speed limit has been reduced to 45 since there is no center line painted yet. The locals adhere to 45 as if it were the gospel.

65 starts my slab routine and I'm on concrete the rest of the day. Pretty uneventful from I-44 to St Louis and then I-70 on home.

Observations:

The Futura is an amazing machine. This was the longest trip I had ever taken and my total saddle time between the two days was close to 20 hours. The only issue I have is with my throttle hand and I attribute that more to my carpal tunnel syndrome than any fault of the bike. This bike shines brightly in all aspects of the journey and I have more confidence in myself and the machine. The evil thing about this bike is that it begs you to go faster. It will tolerate slower highway speeds but you can just feel that she's more comfortable at 85+. I can't say enough about the handling through the mountains of Arkansas and Missouri, either.

Modular helmets are phenomenal when a wasp finds it's way under the chin bar and into the helmet. Instead of having to do the rapid pull-over, dance like an idiot while ripping the helmet off your head manuever, I was able to open the face and let him out. Minimal drama but panicky, none the less.

The Futura draws people out. Riders and non-riders want to know more about the bike. Be prepared to chat at gas stops.

Pacing at 85 behind a hearse is kind of creepy.

Zipping through the Illinois plains on an Italian motorcycle listening to James Brown is surreal... in a good way.

Even though Interstates are a great way to make time, I hate them.

The thing I have a hard time wrapping my arms around is that when I pulled into the parking lot this evening, just yesterday morning I drove out and parked my car at the airport to fly to Houston and now here I was a little over 36 hours later with my motorcycle. Quite a sense of accomplishment and I've grown even more attached to the Aprilia as a result.

The Spot Messenger worked flawlessy. It was neat walking in from my journey to see that the wife had the tracking page pulled up on her computer. It lets her know where I am and it eliminates my having to check in via cell phone several times during the trip.

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"Ix-nay on the Illbilly-hay"

maxib

Thanks for the report! Keep riding safely out there.

Hammer

Welcome to here.

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BizJetGuy

Second time I've done that trip in the last week. Hopefully the last.

At least the bike is here now - let's go ridin'!!

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"Ix-nay on the Illbilly-hay"

ND4SPD

Glad you're "home" safe and sound.

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CBRVFR

Nice writing, Biz -

Now that you have a home base, maybe we can expect a little more?

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"...the TV also never took away the screwdriver and shoved it up the repairman's ass."

Our own Mr.2nd Amendment, explaining the difference. Perfectly.

Rich Herald, the Gentle Giant

Baketech

Welcome to Generica...

When you are ready to bring that Futura a bit South to fix that rear tire, you have my number...

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"Ten times more charming than that Arnold on Green Acres..."

jose_jimenez

James Brown was the man!

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