Harrison Arkansas Gathering

Besides the obvious(1), there are a couple of major differences between the upper Midwest and Arkansas. In Michohindiainois, there are vast cultivated lands with an occasional tree. In Arkansas, there are vast forests of trees and occasional cultivated field.

(1)Armadillos

More importantly, there are few if any straight roads in the Harrison area. This presents an ideal environment for motorcyclists and apparently quite a challenge for our four-wheeled friends. On the way out of town on Sunday, we saw two overturned cars (along with loaded ambulances) within the first 30 miles.

This is not to say we are immune from mishap. When Frank Carpenter and I pulled in after an 800+ mile ride from Detroit, we spotted one of our own wrapped up like a mummy. Frank hoped out loud there had been a terrible ladder accident, but no such luck. It seems a boulder somehow sucked a perfectly good GL1800 out of a corner on Route 7 and destroyed the machine and part of our intrepid board member. At least he was ambulatory and could laugh about it. (I suspect morphine).

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

It all started in the usual way. I had been following the plans to meet in Harrison, AR on the gl1800riders board for the better part of a year. A few days before the event, my calendar looked clear so I decided to broach the subject with my wife. In spite of several major projects coming due in the following week, she insisted I go. What a woman!

My old riding buddy, Frank Carpenter (HiYoSilver), had emailed wanting to know if I was going. We arranged to meet at the Zeeb Road exit off I-94 near Ann Arbor and run straight through to Harrison on Friday. The weather was in the 80s during the week, so naturally by the time we hooked up at 0700 Friday morning, the temp gauge was showing a solid 38 degrees. We paused at the gas station to put on all the extra clothes we could find and headed west.

Traffic was light in the going away lanes and we made good time in spite of the unfriendly temperatures. Eventually the darkness had to give way to morning light. Then in the rearview mirror the bright orange edge of the sun appeared somewhere east of Detroit. Soon the center of our solar system was casting long shadows on the highway ahead of us. As we passed stands of trees, the new sunlight struck deep into the woods, lighting parts of the earth usually unnoticed under the thick canopy of leaves.

Next to the feeling of powering through a perfect sweeper, I think nature’s splendor is the second most important reason to ride.

The sun warmed our backs, and then our left sides as we turned south toward Indianapolis. The few extra degrees were appreciated. And we were headed southwest in the general direction of Mexico and eternal summer. The rest of the trip down was uneventful. The only close call was when I was ahead of Frank (and his GPS) in St. Louis, snapping pictures of the Gateway Arch, and almost missed an exit. Luckily, I heard his horn in time to cut back across the paint and onto highway 55.


With 12 hours of superslab behind us, we arrived at Springfield Missouri and turned south once more for the last leg into Harrison. Highway 65 is a secondary road, but it's built on the roadbed of a future freeway. It runs straight as an arrow toward the Antarctica for a good 40 miles before dissolving into a series of excellent high speed sweepers leading to Arkansas.

Having collected a time zone on the way out, it was approaching 7:00 PM by the time we snuck across the last state line of the day. We were treated to a beautiful sunset to the west and wispy golden clouds hung high above our destination, urging us toward well earned rest.

Frank had been leading the way most of the way down and as darkness finally arrived, he motioned for me to pass as we approached some ess turns. The pavement was smooth and there was a certain feeling of lightness in anticipation of getting off the bike. Perfect conditions for exercising the suspension and new set of Metzlers I had installed the day before.

A few minutes later we were in downtown Harrison (if there is a downtown) and Frank was pointing to a “Catfish restaurant” as we searched for the Holiday Inn. The GPS led us home and it was good to see a parking lot filled with GL1800s and a number bench riders trying out their latest stories. Stiff and cold, I still couldn’t resist an attempt at a grand entrance. I put on all my blue LED lights and with rock and roll station 6 on the XM, executed a neat u-turn up and into the covered hotel entrance. I figured it would draw attention if I made it or if I tipped over like that guy on Laugh-In. Either way, I was glad to be done for the day.


As Frank and I disembarked, several riders greeted us. I felt exactly like I did forty years ago when my ship pulled into port after a long deployment (except there were no hippies spitting at me and yelling about killing babies).

After checking in and heading back up the road for some “catfish,” I started to get my land legs back and the buzzing in my head started to die down. Maybe I should get headsets.

From Friday night to Sunday morning, we met up with a lot of folks from the board, some of whom had been to CatsCade last spring or various other informal gatherings.

Saturday morning, Frank and I joined a small group headed south. We visited roads numbered 65, 74, 123, 16, and 23. Each of the sections has its own attractions. 123 was especially interesting with its narrow lanes and steep drop-offs. We hit a short stretch of construction where flagmen stopped us on freshly graded dirt that fell away into a wooded abyss that was probably several hundred feet down. I could imagine the skeleton of a hapless traveler still behind the wheel of his ’28 Buick, never discovered in the thick jungle that covered decades of roadside relics and litter.

Traffic was light and we saw a number of other riders on the way up 23 where we stopped for gas. I mentioned to Frank that his brake lights were stuck in the on mode. Beating on the brake light switches with metal instruments didn’t seem to help, so we opted to drop out of the pack and head back to Harrison for repairs. Naturally, the Honda shop was about to close as we arrived and the mechanic wasn’t sure what the problem was, so we were on our own.


After several hours of dissecting various hydraulic, electrical, and mechanical systems, we resorted to the unthinkable and asked for advice. Luckily, Tom Finch was there with his cell phone. Surrounded by tire kickers and a sprinkling of exotic beverages, the analysis was joined by Fred Harmon via long distance. Before long the source of the annoyance was traced to a bad connection under the rear fender. An aftermarket brake/running light switch for the spoiler was the culprit. Wires were separated and all was well.

About 5:30, all the shade tree mechanics took a break to attend the only organized portion of the get-together. Dinner at a nearby steak house was well attended with the banquet room filled and some attendees seated out in the main hall. Our hosts, John McCaskill and Randy Brown made everyone welcome and handed out more door prizes than I’ve ever seen. The handful who did not win one of the prizes were given a kickstand pad provided by Anpac Insurance, one of the event sponsors.

Other vendors/sponsors included:

Gene's Gallery Goldwing accessories and more
ProCycle Springfield Missouri Honda Dealer
Escapade Trailers Motorcycle Trailers
Honda Direct Line Great parts and motorcycle dealer-great site.
Cycle Care Great products to keep your ride clean
Electrical Connection Lights, parts, and accessories for your bike
Bushtec Trailers Motorcycle trailers
Garmin Maker of GPS systems
Shirtznthingz Joe's shirts for any occasion


After a great day of exploring back roads and camaraderie, we decided to take a leisurely two day trip back to Detroit using parts of State Route 66 and other colorful roads until we were forced back onto the freeways for the final run. It was a good plan and we enjoyed some great riding across the northern tier of Bill Clinton’s home state. We went north a little and took 160 east through Missouri.

Some of these roads qualify as “must see” in my opinion. A lot of them are well cleared, allowing for sport riding. Much of the area is older but well maintained road edged by old growth hardwoods whose limbs sometimes cover the entire road. Scenic river access and pullouts are available too. It seems like people down there don’t like to get rid of their old cars. There’s plenty of interesting iron mixed in with the small herds of cattle along the roads.








We bypassed St. Louis and took 57 north to Effingham, Illinois for a layover. Monday morning greeted us with clouds and drizzle and stayed that way the rest of the day. By now, home was calling loudly. It felt good to be back and to recall the good times and good friends from another motorcycle tour through the Midwest.