The Road to Sturgis, My Story
Guinness World Record
World Record Poker Run Part 2
We Made History and Broke Records on an Epic Ride
The crazy idea of the World Record Poker Run was conceived by Sonny Badger. Sonny and Angie are also the founders of Support Bikers. Support Bikers is a non-profit organization designed to help bikers in need, with resources they may not otherwise receive. I urge you to check out their website and donate if you can. The proceeds go to injured bikers when involved in an accident.
Early Morning
I had no idea what the day would bring, other than riding over five hundred miles. My expectations for the 564-mile run were of different sceneries, from cityscapes to country roads and the delta backcountry. Little did I know this adventure would take an unexpected twist.
Early in the second day of #WRPR. Andy and I went our separate ways and planned to meet around lunchtime at Love’s truck stop in Jasper, Alabama. We then would meet in the motel’s parking lot where the rest of the riders would stay in Little Rock Arkansas. That night we were going to “Boondock” in the motel parking lot.
I arrived at the second leg’s starting point, the same place where the riders had spent the previous night. I intended to ride with Sonny, Angie, Amy, Baby Badger, Toby, Kylie, Amanda, Tim, and the other organizers.
Second Leg
I was running late for the meetup. Once I got there, I couldn’t find the crew. Someone said I just missed them, so I hauled ass to catch up to them. Little did I know at the time, Angie’s bike was broken and they detoured to get a different bike for her to ride.
I slowed my roll when I realized I would not catch up with them. I got into a groove and was enjoying the Ride. At least I was trying to. The GPS app we were using was maddening.
I was en route to pass through Birmingham. Birmingham was a shit show. Cagers drove like maniacs, like bumper cars at a carnival. I then caught Highway 20 westbound, passing through Jasper. Andy had made it there ahead of me by about twenty or thirty minutes.
Best Laid Plans
By the time I arrived at Love’s, Andy had the rig fueled and backed into a truck parking space. I parked my bike in front of the rig. I was burning up and sticky with the southern humidity. I immediately sensed trouble upon seeing Andy’s face when he greeted me. Andy hugged me and said he had to show me what happened to the rig. We had a flat rear tire on the rig. It was 12:30 pm, on Saturday, July 31, 2021, in Jasper, Alabama. In Jasper, Alabama, at half-past twelve in the afternoon, there are no big RV tire shops open.
Although it was disappointing to run into trouble so early in the run, I was grateful the tire didn’t shred and cause damage to the rig.
We both started calling every shop within a fifty-mile radius, along with AAA and Sam’s Roadside Assistance. Not one tire shop had a tire big enough for our rig. At some point, we had to make alternate plans. If I stayed much longer, I wouldn’t make it to Little Rock, Arkansas, for the next meet-up location. More than three hundred miles remained until the next layover. A major storm was coming, and I wanted to get ahead of it.
The New Plan
Andy and Boss continued their tire search. They would drive straight through to catch up with me at the next night’s meet-up place in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. First, I had to make it to Little Rock, Arkansas. I packed a change of clothes and hit the road. As I was heading west, the sky turned angry and black.
The Storm
About twenty miles west of the Loves truck stop, I ran straight into the storm. There was no “getting ahead of it”. The rain was coming down in buckets. I slowed down to a crawl, maybe 45 mph in the slow lane.
A big rig truck passed me at what seemed like March 3 speed. I was pushed around in my lane by the wind, with an inch of water on the ground.
As I passed under an overpass, where I began to hydroplane. Pulling onto the westbound highway’s shoulder, a tree across the eastbound lanes was struck by lightning.
Soaked, I stood beside the highway, waiting out the storm. I was grateful for the warm temperature with the rain soaking me. I would have been cold otherwise. The trucks were passing by at speed, with no concerns about the weather. Or, concern for the motorcyclists. Later, I discovered a truck crushed a motorcycle parked under an overpass to cool off from the extreme heat. By the grace of God, no one was injured.
Missing Turns
The rain soaked my phone charger, and the official GPS app we were using to track our miles drained the battery of my phone. When I came upon a gas station to get gas and another charger, I realized I was about twenty miles past my turn. Another delay I couldn’t afford. And I hadn’t seen another bike in hours.
Levee Roads
The sun had disappeared long ago in the middle of nowhere with crop fields and swampy patches on an old levee road. It was darker than dark and I prayed the critters and I wouldn’t meet up close and personal. Or that I wouldn’t be swallowed up by the giant potholes. I fully anticipated seeing an alligator. It sounds silly, I know, even as I write this. However, it’s what kept coming to mind as I rode along the swampy areas on either side of the road.
I knew I was getting close to the grand Mississippi by the map on my fairing. By the way, my bike was a 2018 Road Glide Ultra at the time not very old. It has a GPS mapping system that is a total piece of shit. It’s not only difficult to input the destination, but also difficult to follow. Harley Davidson’s quality control needs improvement.
Anyway, I digress; The narrow levee road opened up and suddenly there were lights everywhere. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a bright, colorful casino. And just beyond it was the bridge to cross the grand Mississippi River.
Hell of a Day
I pulled into the Isle Casino parking lot after ten o’clock for a break. After, concentrating on avoiding the massive potholes, and speed bumps, and keeping an eye out for wildlife made me tired, but wired. There were still over two hours left to get to Little Rock, Arkansas.
It was one hell of a day, and I wouldn’t have changed a single minute. Well, I might have changed almost becoming a crispy critter through a lightning strike. It scared the crap out of me, but the ride was amazing.
Even the rain was exhilarating. The countryside was a beautiful dark, lush green. And very few cagers tried to murder me. The truckers, that was a different story. The earthy smell along the levee road reminded me of riding the California delta.
Little Rock
I made it to the meetup hotel in Little Rock. I finally caught up with the crew only minutes after they arrived at the hotel. All evening I felt isolated and alone, as if there weren’t another soul on earth, but in reality, the crew was only five minutes ahead of me. As dark as it was out in the backcountry of the delta, there was no sign of anyone else on the road, not even a faint glow of other riders’ lights.
Hoping for a room, I walked in to find them in line at the reservation desk. They said they’d seen Andy in the parking lot after telling him about the rig. Several cars with flat tires were on the side of the highway. A report circulated that someone had thrown nails or something onto the road.
Having been wound up by the ride, we decided to spend some time at the hotel bar before retiring for the night. Telling our lies, I mean telling our road stories.
Third leg- Pig Trail
I appreciate your visit to the blog. Subscribe to get the Third Leg-We Ride the Pig Trail en route to Eureka Springs, Arkansas. During my stay in Eureka Springs, I stayed in the most haunted hotel in the United States. We will also discover what happened to Andy and my support rig.
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Michelle Wishart
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