Faulkner
Member
As I sat and pulled my boots off after a busy Friday I was contemplating what I was going to do Saturday morning. The yard was mowed and we had just finished bailing and stacking the hay that I'd cut earlier in the week. I was thinking I just wanted a few hours of down time. The Saturday morning forecast was for clear skies and a little cooler than normal, temps in the 60's, so I decided to take the Harley out for a early morning spin.
The sunrise was just visible on the eastern horizon when I opened the big double doors to my shop and walked my Harley outside. It was bit nippy so I grabbed a light riding jacket, cranked her up and let idle for a couple of minutes, then took off heading to one of my favorite roads that is probably one of the best motorcycle riding roads in middle America, Arkansas Highway 123.
About 20 minutes out I stopped at a rural country store to top off the gas tank and grab a sausage biscuit. The parking lot was full of pickup trucks and I had to maneuver around a couple of farm tractors to get to the non-ethanol premium gas pump. This country store is one of my regular stops when I'm on duty in this part of the county. I stopped and spoke to the old timers and farmers I regularly see sitting on the old wooden church pew out front, and I knew there'd be a few more inside around the big picnic table with their morning coffee and ritual discussion on the state of affairs in local politics and the weather's impact on the crops.
"Hey Faulkner, did you get your hay up? It's gonna rain next week," one old time asked.
"Yes sir Mr. Bills, finished up late yesterday," I answered.
As I was paying for my biscuit Mrs. Blue behind the counter asked, "why ain't you and the boys out dove hunting this morning? Good day for it."
"Yes ma'am," I replied, "it would be, but my oldest and his wife have gone to St. Louis to watch the Cardinals play this weekend, and my college boy had a late date last night. I decided to ride up to Mt. Judy and enjoy the scenery."
"I got to talk to your wife coming out of the bank the other day, she's such a sweet thang."
"Yes ma'am, I think so too, if she could make biscuits like yours she'd be perfect." Mrs. Blue makes her biscuits from scratch right here in the store and they're as good as any grandma would make.
I hung around a few minutes out front eating my sausage biscuit and visited with a couple of the old timers occupying the old church pew. When I finished up I said my good byes and shook hands all around and walked over to my Harley. I was strapping on my helmet when a white Ford pickup pulled up next to me with the driver window rolled down. It was one of the local elected county officials, Justice of the Peace Bailey.
I nodded and said, "good morning Justice Bailey."
"Morning Faulkner, you not working today," he asked.
"Ha, no sir. I've been around long enough I don't work weekends unless something bad is happening or I'm filling in for somebody else . . . I hope you aren't about to tell me something bad is happening," I told him with a grin.
"Nope, not me. You be careful out there on that dad-blasted thing."
I started up my Harley, gave a quick wave to the folks around the old store, and pulled out onto the two lane highway thinking about how much I really like my community and living in rural Arkansas.
As I headed north with the road winding through the curves and over hills I can smell the aroma of fresh cut hay as I pass by the hay fields. Not much row cropping goes on in the Arkansas hills any more, but lots of folks raise cattle and run a few horses and I note the distinct barnyard smells as I pass by the barns. I rounded one long turn and saw about six whitetail deer, all does, grazing on the high grass on the wide shoulder of the highway near the edge of the woods so I kick the bike down a couple of gears to slow down in case one gets stupid and decides to cross the road in front of me. Fortunately, they pay me no mind as I pass on by and increase speed.
The speed limit on the two lane highway in this area is 55 mph and I'm cruising along leisurely at just about the speed limit. I glance in the rear view mirror and see an orange Dodge Charger with black racing strips pulling up behind me at a pretty high rate of speed. This is hill country so there aren't a lot of straight stretches of road for passing lanes but I know of a church parking lot a couple of miles or so ahead that I'll pull over and let this guy pass. As I look back to my rear view again I'm a little irritated that the Charger is right on my tail and I hate it when they do that. Oh well, I twisted the throttle to speed up to about 60 but the guy just sticks to me. I can tell it's a young fellow, late teens or twenty-ish, and obviously impatient. Before we could ever get to the church where I could safely pull over and let him pass he jerks out in the other lane on a double yellow in a curve and speeds past as an oncoming car comes around the curve. By then I'm already off the throttle and slowing down as he yanks the orange Charger back in front of me and takes off down the road wide open. I'm thinking, "what a jerk", but I'm not gonna let it bother my enjoyable ride.
Karma was about to kick in, though. The oncoming car happened to be a sheriff's patrol car, one of my co-workers, and he saw the whole thing. As the deputy passed by he pulled over on the right shoulder and then did a U-turn heading back in our direction. As he gained on me I pulled way over on the right side of the road and slowed down to let him pass. He must have recognized me because he'd rolled his window down and waved as he went by, then hit is blue lights and sped off.
Interestingly enough, a ways down the road I topped a hill and could see the deputy had the orange Charger pulled over in the aforementioned church parking lot. I was tempted to pull over and visit with the young man but decided against it, for all I knew the car was full of drugs or the driver was DWI and I'd be tied up for hours. Nope, I'm not gonna do it, I'm out for a ride. As I drove by I could see the deputy had the driver out of the car leaning over the hood in cuffs and he gave me a thumbs up as I rode by. That means I'll probably get to fill out a supplemental report on Monday.
The rest of my ride was enjoyable and uneventful. Saw a few elk as I cruised through Boxley Valley, Arkansas, and as always the scenery is awesome. Sometimes you just have to enjoy the little things in life.
The sunrise was just visible on the eastern horizon when I opened the big double doors to my shop and walked my Harley outside. It was bit nippy so I grabbed a light riding jacket, cranked her up and let idle for a couple of minutes, then took off heading to one of my favorite roads that is probably one of the best motorcycle riding roads in middle America, Arkansas Highway 123.
About 20 minutes out I stopped at a rural country store to top off the gas tank and grab a sausage biscuit. The parking lot was full of pickup trucks and I had to maneuver around a couple of farm tractors to get to the non-ethanol premium gas pump. This country store is one of my regular stops when I'm on duty in this part of the county. I stopped and spoke to the old timers and farmers I regularly see sitting on the old wooden church pew out front, and I knew there'd be a few more inside around the big picnic table with their morning coffee and ritual discussion on the state of affairs in local politics and the weather's impact on the crops.
"Hey Faulkner, did you get your hay up? It's gonna rain next week," one old time asked.
"Yes sir Mr. Bills, finished up late yesterday," I answered.
As I was paying for my biscuit Mrs. Blue behind the counter asked, "why ain't you and the boys out dove hunting this morning? Good day for it."
"Yes ma'am," I replied, "it would be, but my oldest and his wife have gone to St. Louis to watch the Cardinals play this weekend, and my college boy had a late date last night. I decided to ride up to Mt. Judy and enjoy the scenery."
"I got to talk to your wife coming out of the bank the other day, she's such a sweet thang."
"Yes ma'am, I think so too, if she could make biscuits like yours she'd be perfect." Mrs. Blue makes her biscuits from scratch right here in the store and they're as good as any grandma would make.
I hung around a few minutes out front eating my sausage biscuit and visited with a couple of the old timers occupying the old church pew. When I finished up I said my good byes and shook hands all around and walked over to my Harley. I was strapping on my helmet when a white Ford pickup pulled up next to me with the driver window rolled down. It was one of the local elected county officials, Justice of the Peace Bailey.
I nodded and said, "good morning Justice Bailey."
"Morning Faulkner, you not working today," he asked.
"Ha, no sir. I've been around long enough I don't work weekends unless something bad is happening or I'm filling in for somebody else . . . I hope you aren't about to tell me something bad is happening," I told him with a grin.
"Nope, not me. You be careful out there on that dad-blasted thing."
I started up my Harley, gave a quick wave to the folks around the old store, and pulled out onto the two lane highway thinking about how much I really like my community and living in rural Arkansas.
As I headed north with the road winding through the curves and over hills I can smell the aroma of fresh cut hay as I pass by the hay fields. Not much row cropping goes on in the Arkansas hills any more, but lots of folks raise cattle and run a few horses and I note the distinct barnyard smells as I pass by the barns. I rounded one long turn and saw about six whitetail deer, all does, grazing on the high grass on the wide shoulder of the highway near the edge of the woods so I kick the bike down a couple of gears to slow down in case one gets stupid and decides to cross the road in front of me. Fortunately, they pay me no mind as I pass on by and increase speed.
The speed limit on the two lane highway in this area is 55 mph and I'm cruising along leisurely at just about the speed limit. I glance in the rear view mirror and see an orange Dodge Charger with black racing strips pulling up behind me at a pretty high rate of speed. This is hill country so there aren't a lot of straight stretches of road for passing lanes but I know of a church parking lot a couple of miles or so ahead that I'll pull over and let this guy pass. As I look back to my rear view again I'm a little irritated that the Charger is right on my tail and I hate it when they do that. Oh well, I twisted the throttle to speed up to about 60 but the guy just sticks to me. I can tell it's a young fellow, late teens or twenty-ish, and obviously impatient. Before we could ever get to the church where I could safely pull over and let him pass he jerks out in the other lane on a double yellow in a curve and speeds past as an oncoming car comes around the curve. By then I'm already off the throttle and slowing down as he yanks the orange Charger back in front of me and takes off down the road wide open. I'm thinking, "what a jerk", but I'm not gonna let it bother my enjoyable ride.
Karma was about to kick in, though. The oncoming car happened to be a sheriff's patrol car, one of my co-workers, and he saw the whole thing. As the deputy passed by he pulled over on the right shoulder and then did a U-turn heading back in our direction. As he gained on me I pulled way over on the right side of the road and slowed down to let him pass. He must have recognized me because he'd rolled his window down and waved as he went by, then hit is blue lights and sped off.
Interestingly enough, a ways down the road I topped a hill and could see the deputy had the orange Charger pulled over in the aforementioned church parking lot. I was tempted to pull over and visit with the young man but decided against it, for all I knew the car was full of drugs or the driver was DWI and I'd be tied up for hours. Nope, I'm not gonna do it, I'm out for a ride. As I drove by I could see the deputy had the driver out of the car leaning over the hood in cuffs and he gave me a thumbs up as I rode by. That means I'll probably get to fill out a supplemental report on Monday.
The rest of my ride was enjoyable and uneventful. Saw a few elk as I cruised through Boxley Valley, Arkansas, and as always the scenery is awesome. Sometimes you just have to enjoy the little things in life.
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