this is go- stinctively scan for whatever caused the KTM a river crossing and I wonder if we can make
ing to be a good one. It is Day Two of the rider to drop anchor. A diagonal wash big this one. The tune to “Yellow Submarine” pops
april fools
i
watch their exchange and think
“April Fool’s” ride from the Mulberry enough to bury a Toyota Land Cruiser, or at into my head as the third K’toom to dip his
Mountain Lodge near Cass, Arkansas. Troy least its spare tire, gapes at me, closing at nearly wheel goes belly up in the swift current. The
april fools
Wolf and Sean Noll, the brains behind the mad- 30 mph. “Brake or gas?” is always the question rider quickly surfaces and with the help of a
ness, handled the logistics of food, lodging and when a rider is confronted with this much po- nearby bud, wrestles the beast to the other side.
mapping GPS routes for others to follow. Craig tential influence on bone structure. I grab a I look around for a wider crossing which I sur-
Wightman is the man behind the video camera. handful of throttle and heave, hoping to fare mise will be less deep. Most of the remaining
Some might consider him an instigator, as we better than my pal, who is still recovering from pack follows as I nudge the KLX across more or
will later find out. less upright. Thankfully, my boots
I heard about this “unorga- didn’t get flooded this time, but I
nized” ride last week in Eureka can’t say the same for the unlucky
Springs while among a bunch of guy pumping out his inverted
“Ride Oklahoma” folks attending pumpkin-colored machine. In a
april fools
the Sixth Annual Hillbilly Dual few short minutes there is fire in
Sport Tour, a milder, saner ride the hole and he’s off and running.
about 60 miles to the north. The Ingenuity runs amok among hard
april fools
good-natured banter between core dual-sport riders. These are
friends typifies the camaraderie the guys you want to have on your
between motorcyclists every- team when you need to resuscitate
where, but especially among dual- a drowned motorcycle.
sport riders who may spend hours
bumping tires, hoisting bikes over
deadfalls and summoning rescue w
e continue up a nasty ravine,
dancing to the rhythm of the
helicopters for the injured. rocks in our path. This is what we
I mention “unorganized” be- came here for. Men drove upwards
cause, officially, it is better to let of 16 hours to take on the woods of
people choose their own routes, Northwestern Arkansas. The effort
departure times, and the like. An of handling a 30-plus horsepower
organized event, at least one with hybrid over this terrain takes away
more than 50 participants, draws the blues and puts the daily grind
the eye and sometimes the ire of in perspective. Stars align like
state and federal agencies and re- clockwork when you’re on a mo-
quires more in the way of insur- torcycle in the woods. Life is
ance, permits, environmental stud- good.
ies…you know, the tape that binds Until you pinch-flat, that is.
us. Craig taps his horn button, signal-
ing our dwindling parade to halt.
n
ow, boots relatively dry, tires Sean and Tom disappear over the
aired, chains adjusted and hill. Two perfect tree stumps ap-
lubed, we’re off. Forty-some luna- pear as if by magic. One for the
tics head out into the Arkansas bike and one to act as a table to
wilderness knowing full well that perform the tubectomy needed to
record rains have fallen over the fix the “snakebites” caused when
past two weeks. Rivers and creeks the errant rock pinched two paral-
are reported to be above flood stage and more his attempt to keep from being swallowed alive. lel slits in Craig’s rear innertube.
rain is in the forecast…today! I manage to swerve around him and hop over “Anybody got a spare back tube?” Craig
Fog engulfs us as we climb, winding our the minor abyss. asks as Tom and Sean roll up, wondering where
way skyward. The pace is brisk but reasonable, Soon enough, we exit the gravel road, if we went. As he stretches the tube out to check
considering our visibility, or lack thereof. Sud- you can call it that, and point our bikes into the for other damage, Jonathan has a word with his
denly a skidding chunk of orange plastic emerg- dark woods. The group splits several times as pal.
es from the soup, brake light aglow, and I in- riders find their pace and skill level. We come to “Dude, that’s a FRONT tube! It’s the
July 2008/11
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