I had intended on going through Tulsa, staying overnight at a co-workers house (he commutes) and continuing on the next day. Early to rise prior to flying to St. Louis I checked the weather reports; wind, wind direction, wind speed, forecasted winds and precipitation and lastly took a look at the St. Louis live traffic cams for evidence of the 100% chance of snow they had the previous day. Just barely a dusting showed up, so I was on my way. The winds concerned me. I decided to keep the wind at my back and head for Little Rock down Highway 67 instead of taking the route to Tulsa which would've promised high winds coming from my right side. I can't speak for that route, but the route to Little Rock offered some beautiful country.
Well, the ride started out with cold temps in St. Louis. It was just under 30 when I left. I wasn't worried because I had my trusty Gerbings XE pants and jacket added to my Gerbings T5 gloves. My feet were warm with my hunting boots so I didn't bother with the Gerbins socks I bought just for this occasion. I got a later start than I had planned due to some last minute details the dealer wanted to take care of. They checked over some torque settings and fluid levels to make sure I was good to go. I didn't get to meet Honz. It seems he had an engagement this week in Morocco. The rest of the folks were a great bunch. There was a little bit of an overpayment on the bike (credit union didn't account for my deposit) so I had some money coming back to me. I used that to buy a made-for-the-GT tank bag. I was hot by the time I'd pulled out of the dealership so didn't bother turning on the heat just yet. I had studied the route and gone over it a few times in my mind so I didn’t bother with the Tom Tom GPS. I just headed out. Then I got a phone call through the Sena SMH-10 headset. It was my sister. As I was explaining about the bike, I missed my turn, somewhere, somehow which would lead to a mini-adventure through the hills of St. Louis right into the bowels of the East side. First, I pulled over and fiddled with the Tom Tom. That fine electronic piece of…….well, it knew exactly where I was going. It never left Frisco, Texas and thought I was trying to get from Frisco to Little Rock. Try as hard as I may, it never did realize I left Texas. I stowed it and made the mistake of asking my sister to look at Google maps and guide me on my way.
Now my sister is a great sibling and great friend but she is Google-navigationally challenged. Trying to be understanding and patient, I let her guide me on the unintended tour of the greater St. Louie. Now, I’m not sure where I read or heard it, but East St. Louis stuck out in my mind as a place that really wasn’t on my “must see” list. My sister must’ve known different so she headed me that way (how hard is it to find Highway 55 which leads to Highway 67?????). As the treasure of St. Louis, the Arch, grew in size dead ahead, the town began to take on a rusty worn look. Jeans began to reveal underwear and hoodies became the prevalent attire. Realizing I’d like to keep the bike for more than a day, I elected to pull off a double decker bridge I was on at the first exit.
Once exited, I pulled into a vacant parking lot with not a soul in sight. I convinced my sister, ever so kindly, to conference my Dad in so that he could help me, now!! Luckily Dad was available and sitting in front of his computer. Google maps apparently works well on his computer. I’m not sure if his Toshiba works better with it than my sister’s Dell does. Anyhow, I explained where I was and Dad said, “you’re WHERE!?!?!?”. It seems he’d been to St. Louis, on that same bridge, and in the same area years earlier. I wondered if the attire was the same then as he was planning my escape. Ahhhhhh, relief, he knew where I was and could relate!!! As he was ciphering my coordinates and Google’s directions a few of the low hung panted gents began approaching from two different directions. I had this weird thought that “maybe they think I taste like chicken”! I didn’t want to be eaten by cannibals from this jungle so I elected to move on, directions or no directions. As I make a left turn lo and behold, there was a sign pointing to Highway 55. Eureka!!! My Dad and sister stayed on the phone while I got on the highway and on my way. Somewhere in our conversation I mentioned I was going to hit Highway 67 and go through Little Rock. I could hear my sister hunting and pecking on the computer. She interjected and said I should exit Lindburgh and take some Ferry-something road. She insisted and not wanting to let her know trust was a serious issue with her navigational skills at this point, I elected for the feel-good exit of her choice. Ferry-something road was quite nice, albeit a long one with signs pointing to Highway 67 and all along paralleling Highway 55.
I continued my redirected trip down Ferry-something road for about 30 minutes and saw that Highway 55 was growing further and further away from my right side. I elected to turn around, back track about 20 minutes and get back on Highway 55. She’d had enough, I didn’t follow her directions; therefore, obviously didn’t trust her. I was on my own, good-bye, be safe!
Highway 55 lead to Highway 66 just like the map had offered early on. I was starting to get cold. So click click on my double controller. Ahhhhh the anticipated heat. I couldn’t wait. But, the GT had something else planned. “Lets rough it!!!” It appears that the single outlet will drop offline if too many amps are sucked through it. CANBUS system won’t blow a fuse, just drop it offline (whatever that means). Nonetheless I was cold. Time to see how the heated grips and seat work.
They both heat up fine. In fact the seat felt like it was getting so hot I swear I smelled smoked ham. Most of the trip consisted of small bursts of the heated seat and constant heat on the grips.
The rest of the ride for the 20 or so miles down Highway 55 was uneventful. Highway 67 offered some sparsely populated areas and some awesome hilly forested wind blocks. In fact, the rest of the ride to Searcy, Arkansas on highway 67 was a split four lane highway that often took the two Southern lanes away from the two Northern lanes offering views of the pine trees and hills on both sides without a view of the opposing traffic. I didn’t dare roll into the throttle much because I couldn’t see far enough down the road to see if the police were lurking, but what a sweet sound it has. As the odometer grew, so did the anticipation, or better stated, the need to hear and see what this BMW K1600GT had to offer. At my first opportunity I dropped it into 5th and rolled into to it. HOLY-COW!!!!! This thing screams the sounds of an Indy car, a Porsche, a Ferrari, a Bugatti!!! I love it! Oh man!!!
The thoughts began filtering into my tiny mind (once compared to a BB in a box-car) , like “this thing had 2400 miles on it”. “Is it broke in?” “Should I roll into it like that?” “Simmer down skipper! Ease up, this baby has to last you a while.”
Three hours into the trip, a mini-scare venture, and some miles behind me, my dairy-aire began to ache a bit and my stomach was saying “feed me!” I started looking for a place to eat and get some gas. Boy are the towns spread apart out here.
I found a quaint little town to stop in called Poplar Bluff, Missouri. I had a ? tank of gas left and was averaging 48 miles per gallon. That is on a six cylinder and about 10 more than I get on my ST (its mileage dropped by 4mpg when I added the v-stream windshield)! Wendy’s has a gut bomb called the “Baconator”. If I’d known then what I know now, I’d have elected to have Kentucky Fried chicken next door. I filled up and after my butt cheeks revived and re-inflated, I was off.
It wasn’t long that the hills and pine forest areas gave way to bare trees and flatter farm lands. Being a farm boy myself I have a sincere appreciation of such and enjoyed this part of the trip immensely. The sun was getting low and the winds were calm. All too knowing, I realized the time was perfect for crop dusting. Tons of crop dusting in fact. They were everywhere. The aroma of herbicides controlled the air. My favorite thing in the world is aviation, flying, and airplanes. I hit pay dirt!! Crop dusters buzzed left to right just over my head. It was exhilarating. I was clipping along enjoying the farmland when it dawned on me. There are no fences. For miles, I didn’t see a fence anywhere. Wow! I grew up in the Texas plains where a man can see forever. In fact, it is said that if one looks hard enough, he can see the back of his head. There are fences, barbed wire mostly, everywhere. The winter wheat was so green against the gray backdrop of the naked trees, what a contrast. I’d been taken back home and never left my bike or the road.
I found tons of trucks on this Highway 67 which had, by then, narrowed to a 2 lane highway. I got to experience the all too familiar buffet of riding behind a truck, for miles, and more miles. Will there ever be a gap where I can pass? The buffeting although recognizable, was not as prevalent as on my ST. I was impressed. Finally, my chance! A gap. I dropped it with a scream and rev of the engine (got to get used to the different clutch!) and rolled into the throttle only to find not 1 but 4 trucks lined up. Ruh roh raggy!!! I rolled into it further and went for it. By the time I’d passed the 4th truck the needle was even on the 140 mark with plenty more to go, or so it felt. Oh man will this thing move!!! More thoughts of “easy boy!!” went through my mind. I doubt I’ll ever go that fast again but the memory remains close at hand. The sound of that engine is as Dinkie put it, mechanical Viagra!
The farm lands were my favorite part and how I longed to move back home. The sun barely visible on the horizon now became my concern. I was in deer country with the lights going out. The last thing I needed was to hit one. I made it to Highway 63 and headed East/South East toward Little Rock. Now the folks at Gateway BMW told me I’d be better off staying away from Little Rock so I elected Searcy, Arkansas as my overnight choice. There it was, the sign. Five miles ahead, LaQuinta (which means “next to Denny’s” in Spanish, or so I was told). That’s where I decided to hang my hat for the night.
A couple of miles before the exit I still had the effect of the mechanical Viagra. So I rolled into it once more, just for the sound, the feel, the speed. I’m in awe and this will be a great end to the day’s ride! One must not forget the commercials though. They say, if “the effects” (interject your own word there) last for more than four hours, see a physician. Well I found another method. Roll into the throttle and absorb the sights, sounds, and feels of that raw power. Then come hauling-*** up behind a Trooper in whatever state you may be. My state happened to be in Arkansas and the Troopers there really do where those flat hats, like Smokey the Bear. I rolled right up on his bumper like a missile on an intercept course about to run up his tail pipe. I decided to exit. So did he. Right in front of me. I felt that awww crap feeling and decided to accept the consequences. He turned right at the intersection. I was in the same lane. The right-turn-only-lane. He went ahead slowly. I went further into the right turn into the LaQuinta parking lot. My assumption was that he would reverse course and be visiting with me shortly. He went on without looking back which left me without the effects of the mechanical Viagra and with anticipation of clean undies. Who needs a physician when he has a bike like this?
It turns out there must be several different slang versions of Spanish. This LaQuinta had a Waffle House next to it. Denny’s was no where to be found. I had breakfast for dinner and shortly thereafter turned in for a nice night of slumber. My intent was to wake up at 5, and hit the road by 5:30 after filling up. I’d eat something when I filled up later.
I woke at 4:45 without the alarm and thought, I’m so tired. I turned my alarm off and dozed off to sleep. I woke at 8. So much for an early arrival at home. Butt cheeks recovered, back a little sore, mood on top of the world and ready to ride, I filled up and rode off without breakfast. I was thrilled to see the temperature at 50. I was amused and my ego swelled as people would come up along side on the highway to snap a picture with their phones of the bike, my bike. It must be the “angel eyes” headlights?
After Little Rock I arrived at Interstate 30 and headed for home. Back in the pine trees until a little after Texarkana, the ride was very pleasant. I’d only seen one Trooper in Arkansas and was relieved that his buddy hadn’t radioed ahead warning him of my arrival.
After Texarkana I ran out of pine trees. It was about this time that it had dawned on me. Being ever so proud of my home state of Texas, I felt a little embarrassed when I realized how clean and perfect he Missouri highway 67 was. And how clean and new the Arkansas highways were. As soon as I hit Texas, there were scraps of slung tires all over and trash along the road sides. Had an A-bomb go off while I was gone? It appears our Governor needs to visit some surrounding states and observe. Perhaps he would redirect some of the budget.
Rolling along, out of the pine forests of Arkansas and East Texas I was met by that side wind I had dreaded. This time, instead of it coming from the north, it hit from the South. The South?!?! I thought. Uh oh, South winds blow Mountain Cedar or Juniper spores up from the hill country. I’m highly allergic. Time for gas a sandwich and a drink to wash down an allergy pill.
The sneezing began almost immediately. Thank God for a modular face helmet! I can clean it as soon as I stop!! I pulled into Mt. Vernon, Texas and filled up, grabbed a quick Subway steak and cheese, an ice tea and an allergy pill. The bike did well in the cross winds and I felt confident I’d arrive home without a hitch.
The rest of the miles went by with ease. There is one thing that I failed to mention in my travels and that is the cruise control. What a pleasure and life saver. Set it to the right speed and enjoy the ride. Nice!!
The seat, although soft at first touch, becomes hard at about 2.5 hours. I’ll definitely be adding an airhawk pad.
The engine is perfect and sounds better than I can describe. The clutch is touchy to say the least. I’ll get used to it with time.
The shifting is smooth and is what I expected.
The lights at night are sufficient. I’ll be adding fog lights soon to light up the closer in area and sides of the roadway.
The riding position is perfect for me.
My one concern is the visibility from the front. The angel eye headlights are cool but don’t offer much visibility. I intend to leave the fog lights on 24/7.
I’m in love with my new bike. Time will tell if I stay that way. As for now, I’ll stick with her. Now for a name……………what to name her?
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