Arkansas, the Sequel


Another good friend, and another trip to Ouachita National Forest in Arkansas. This time Steve Butcher (@graveldoc) and I teamed up with our knobby tire bikes and camping gear for 4 nights and 3 days of riding.

Now that I’ve completed two of these bikepacking trips, I can say that riding bikes off paved roads, and camping, must be what I was made to do (well, at least the way I’ve done it so far). We didn’t cover a lot of miles, but it was a few days of two buddies playing outside with bikes, camp gear, and coffee toys.

My Bantam AdventureBike is a time machine. I was 10 years old again. And when I returned to being a grandfather, I brought my 10 year old optimism back with me.

Here is a 5-6 minute video to illustrate.


April Fools Arkansas Adventure


Tim and I finally got together for a 4-day bikepacking trip in Arkansas. The trip involved a loop around Lake Ouachita on forest roads and trails. It was just the kind of trip that I had in mind when I ordered the Bantam AdventureBike. We started on April 1, fully aware that there was an almost certain chance we’d experience thunderstorms somewhere along the way. So the working title of this spring’s adventure sort of wrote itself. I’d encourage you to check his blog write-up. He did a better job than I did of telling the story. This post will include mainly a few of my favorite photos and a link to a pretty rough amateur video for which I must (unfortunately) take responsibility.


The thing about photos is that they never fully convey the magnitude, depth, scale, and feel of reality. The vistas were more dramatic. The climbs were steeper, rougher, and longer. And I was certainly more handsome. The photo above, for example, doesn’t communicate how far we are above a river directly below. We are on a ridge, and at least a hundred feet directly above the river. Standing so close to the edge gave me a sort of adrenaline turbo charge.


I’m still learning how to use the used GoPro camera I recently bought. Sometimes the wide angle lens gives me fits and doesn’t capture the image I had in my mind when I pulled the trigger. At other times, like at our breakfast scene above, it turns out better than I expected. The camera is easy to carry, waterproof, and has lots of capacity. So I’ll probably continue to play with it for awhile.


My photo highlights include three images from the Moonshine Shelter. Not only was it visually interesting to me because of the foggy, forest look I don’t get back home on the prairie, it also is memorable due to the weather and travel challenge that proceeded our arrival. Words can’t express how wonderful dry clothes and a hot meal felt. Sleeping in our hammocks out of the rain that night was sublime. This place produced a kind of gratitude that don’t think I’ll ever forget.


What a contrast the next day’s camp would be! Instead of on a chilly, stormy ridgetop, we’d be on a sunny lakeshore. It seemed we were continually fortunate. What we needed (in this case a chance to dry our wet things), always seemed to come along in due time.


One of the things that came along in due time was breakfast on the last day. We broke camp before dawn because we wanted to have our breakfast at a cafe about 7 miles into our route. When we arrived, we learned the chosen cafe doesn’t open until lunch time. Fortunately, Tim (the navigation wizard) spotted this place. Inside was (crazy) hot coffee, and a delicious bisquit/egg/cheese/sausage sandwich that fueled us physically and mentally for several miles.


So if you’ve made it this far, have another 10 minutes, and you want to see more images sprinkled here and there with some video go HERE.

Many thanks to my good friend, Tim! I, most definitely, want to do more of this kind of bicycling.



I have many things to say about this bike. Most of them aren’t build details or first impressions. Instead they are deeply personal, and primarily relate to a “vision” of the perfect bicycle I had back in the early 1970s. The vision was most clear in my mind as I was traveling to Big Bend National Park with my parents. I might post more about that here, or perhaps to certain individuals, in a face-to-face setting, who specifically ask to hear the story.

Fringe Cycling


Even though what I do routinely on Saturday mornings seems quite normal to me, I am occasionally reminded that I am a fringe cyclist. For example, during a ride on the recent Martin Luther King, Jr. Day holiday, someone came up and asked me sincerely if I am homeless. Even though I’ve had a similar experience before, that caught me by surprise.

What I do with a bicycle must be way off on the edge of the bicycle use bell-curve. I had a different kind of reminder today during an outing to seek and watch racers of the Texas Chainring Massacre (TCM) gravel race near my home. It was a reminder delivered to me by “fellow” cyclists.


Many of my bicycle outings include a stop for a coffee brew-up. I thought it would be great to try and find the race course for the TCM, select a good roadside viewing spot, brew some coffee, and watch the parade of gravel grinders go by. To me, the combination of being outside with a bicycle and fresh coffee is about as good as it gets. But it must not be so for most bicycle enthusiasts.


Two interesting things happened as the racers sped by. One of those things was the classic double-take when they glanced over…and then again…when they realized I was really sitting behind a kettle on a stove. The other interesting thing goes to the very heart of the culture of group rides.

As the racers approached, the first thing they noticed was a cyclist on the side of the road. Their immediate instinct was to stop pedaling, lean over, and ask if I had everything I need. It is common practice to help a fellow cyclist avoid being stranded on the side of the road, if one can. I don’t think they imagined that someone would be there on purpose. But I had an answer for them.


Why, yes…I certainly do!