SabMag Oklahoma/Texas (SMOT) v1.0



Background and Info

Due to the recent successes of numerous SabMag East (SME) and SabMag West (SMW) gatherings, a number of smaller get-togethers have begun to spring up. SabMag Great White North (SMGWN) started by (I believe) our very own Mike Walt was the first of these mini SabMag gatherings. Now, we 'south-central' folk are getting into the act with SabMag Oklahoma/Texas (SMOT) v1.0.

SMOT v1.0 is currently scheduled for the weekend of 26 September, 1997. It will be held in the area of the Talimena Scenic Byway. This is a very scenic area nestled in the Ouachita Mountains in Southeastern Oklahoma/Arkansas. The Byway itself is a 54-mile run from Talihina, Oklahoma to Mena, Arkansas. More info here.

Maps

Description of the Talimena Scenic Drive itself (from GORP).
A proposed sample route

Attendees

Name               From                Bike            
Ted Fulmer         Dallas, Tx          82 VF750S/Truck
 Gabriel Fulmer
Mike Hampton       Dallas, Tx          86 GL1200     
 Karen Hampton
Dave Berkey        Tulsa, Ok           83 VF1100C   
Christopher Leach  Tulsa, Ok           84 VF1000F
Barry Tudor        Tulsa, Ok           84 VF1100S
Don Bernhard       San Antonio, Tx     85 VF1100S
Mike Wright        San Antonio, Tx     78 GL1000
Mike Guillory      Houston,Tx          85 VF1100C      
Larry Olejnik      Houston,Tx          85 Sabre 700   
Frank Caramanica   Houston,Tx          84 Magna 700  
David Moore        Houston,Tx          83 Yamaha Seca 900
Brandon            Missouri            86 VFR 700
  Kate


Pic of the whole crew.

Illustrated Ride Report

Well, this is my first ride report, so bear w/ me. I undoubtedly will go through about a thousand person and tense changes, but you'll just have to deal w/ it.

I had been looking forward to SMOT for weeks. I had been meaning to shoot the Talimena Drive (Scenic drive through the Ouachita Mtns in SE Oklahoma/ SW Arkansas. Very little traffic, great pavement and semis prohibited.) ever since I got my '84 VF1000F Interceptor 2 years ago and the chance to meet some fellow Sabmaggots was a bonus.

Originally, Bob Sunley from Canada was supposed to come down and stay w/ me Thursday night and head down w/ me on Friday. But I talked to him Wednesday night and he said he was stranded up north in some weather and wouldn't be able to make it. I was getting a bit concerned at this point that I might have to make the ride down (~175 miles) by myself since Dave Berkey wasn't sure if he was going to be able to make it what w/ retiring on Friday combined w/ preparations to move to Arkansas taking a rather large portion of his time, and we weren't sure if Barry Tudor was going to be able to make it or not.

Well, Dave mailed me and said he was in. So we made plans to meet at 5:00 Friday on the way out of town.

- Friday, 26 September, 1997 -

I took the day off work to sleep in and prepare for the trip. Got all my shopping done and came home in time to wash and wax the bike (not that it mattered much after the ride, but it looked good at the beginning :P) and give her a little TLC (Fluids, chain lube, etc). All of this took longer than I expected, and I ended up not leaving my house until 4:00. N my SO wanted me to come by and say bye before I left (for some reason she had this crazy idea she may not see me again.... have to work on that). Ok, well, if I only see her for about 5 mins.... yeah right. Somehow those 5 min visits always turn into 30. Great, well, Dave'll wait.

So finally I extricate myself and pull into the meeting place about 5:15. Dave was there on his '83 VF1100C and said that Barry Tudor was supposed to join us as well on his '84 VF1100S.

5:30 came and went and we decided to press on w/o Barry. The Ouachitas are famous for deer and we wanted to spend as little time riding at night as possible. I decided I would try to take the CD Player w/ me this time, so after another 5 mins of me trying to wire up, we take off. We decided to take the quickest route and slabbed it down the Muskogee Turnpike, caught I-40 East, and then Highway 59 South towards Poteau. Still no sign of Barry when we stopped in Panama, OK (yes, it's as scary as it sounds) for what should have been an uneventful bout to stretch and get some gas. Well, we were sadly mistaken. We gassed up, paid, and as I was getting all wired up again, Dave goes to move his bike away from the pumps. He turns the key and......nothing. Not even a flicker. D..E..D.. Dead. So we pushed it over by the side of the station and went to work. Got my voltmeter out and check the batt. 0.312V yuck. Well, maybe it just discharged. Found a kind soul w/ jumper cables and w/ the cables on, she fired right up. Dave's aftermarket Voltmeter showed 14V so the Alternator appeared to be working. But as soon as we took the cables off it died. Hmm.. well, perhaps missing ground or short somewhere. By this time Barry had found us so all three of us were rt in there peering... We made a serious mess when we propped his now full tank to get at the wiring beneath. Well, we couldn't find anything wrong, so Dave decided to give it a miss and called the HRC people to have them send a tow truck. Barry and I decided to not leave him stranded so we waited for the truck to show up. Finally, the truck shows up, we get Dave loaded up and we decide to press on. Luckily we were only about 60 miles outside of Mena. But it was 60 miles of the most treacherous, deer-infested, 2-lane rural highways of the whole trip. Yet we pressed on. Braving mid 50's temperatures, semis, cages, one bunny, and the fact that the batteries had died in my CD Player about 30 miles from Mena; we eventually arrived at the Motel in Mena, AR at about 10:30. Most of the Sabmaggots were still outside and promptly came over and started sniffing our bikes while Barry and I checked in. That night I met: Mike Hampton and his wife Karen from Dallas, Ted Fulmer and his son Gabriel also from Dallas, Don Bernhard and Mike Wright (non Sabmaggot) from San Antonio, and Mike Guillory, Dave Moore (non Sabmaggot, and riding a YAMAHA no less :P), Larry, and Frank (both non listmembers, but at least rode SabMags) from Houston. And as luck would have it, just as my Interceptor was the center of attention as the lone sportbike, up rides Brandon and Kate on his '86 VFR700. Talk about dedication. Kate rode on the back of that VFR700 for 7 hours down from Missouri. I'm lucky to get my SO on the back for an hour, and his 700 is much less comfortable than my 1000 (according to Kate anyway :) ).


The 2 token sportbikes. My '84 VF1000F and Brandon's '86 VFR700

The next half hour or so was spent swapping stories and we eventually hit the sack about 11:30.

- Saturday, 27 September, 1997 -

We had agreed to meet out in the parking lot at 9ish for pics and such so I stumbled out of bed about 8:30 and headed out. Well, apparently, Mike Guillory and Dave Moore had gotten hungry and had headed up the Drive to the Lodge for Breakfast, and most of the other crew was in the adjoining restaurant already eating. Well, I had had a Hostess fruit pie thing for dinner... guess I won't be getting any Breakfast. Oh well. So everyone shows back up and we line our bikes up and commence to snapping pictures and such. Got a good look at Mike Guillory's 'Taxi Cab' V65 Magna. It's definitely YELLOW. Looks good though. Finally we finish that and we start to gear up to ride. I guess I had foolishly thought that we were going to sort of stay together as we rode. So when everyone started fragmenting I sort felt upset that everyone was kind of doing their own thing. Yet then as I saw the groups as they were forming, I realized that people were rather gravitating towards their respective competencies and riding styles. Needless to say, myself and Brandon and Kate joined Dave Moore in the 'stupid' category. We talked about the route for a bit, eventually deciding Dave would lead, we'd shoot the Drive, head through Talihina, OK and up to Wilburton, OK for lunch, then back. Dave had grown up ~100 miles from this area and knew every good road around there. He's also been riding since he was about 6. So off we went.


Satruday mornig, before the big ride. L to R: Mike Wright, Dave, Karen and Mike Hampton, Kate, and myself.


Dave, Brandon, and I waiting for Mike in Talihina.

The Eastern end of the drive is very twisty. Lots of 15-20 mph curves and hairpins. Dave goes pouring into each turn, but I can tell he's holding back for our sake. Brandon was as green as I, and had the added hampering of Kate on the back. He did a great job of keeping up. After the hard stuff we stopped at a vista to catch our breath and enjoy some of the sights. I could tell Dave was being nice, but he said we were doing really good keeping up. The rest of the drive was MUCH better, lots of 90-100mph sweepers for about 14 miles. We exited the Drive and headed towards Talihina for a gas stop. While we were there Mike Guillory caught up to us and decided (after a bit of coaxing) to join us. The trip to Wilburton was great, road wasn't in as good of shape, and there was more traffic, but Dave always managed to find us places to pass and kept up the pace. Lunch in Wilburton was an uneventful meal at Pizza Hut.


A view from one of the scenic vistas along the Drive. If you look closely you can see bits of the road 'from whence we came.'


Another scenic view. Indeed, the current world hangliding record was set from that guardrail.

On the way back, Dave decided to head out towards Cedar Lake. I had been there years ago w/ Boy Scouts and it's very pretty out there. Only Dave neglected to mention that the road we were taking was... how shall I say... less than desirable? I guess the first hint should've been the sign which read: "HAZARDOUS ROADWAY NEXT 11 MILES". So I'm thinking, lot's of twisties n cliffs, etc. Nope. Leave it to Oklahoma. Instead of actually FIXING the road, they decided to put up a sign to warn people of how bad of shape it was in. Let me tell you, this place looked like a runway after it's been hit w/ a few cluster bombs. Yet we made it through, earning our Motocross Merit Badges and the only casualties being Mike Guillory's right rear turn signal (hit a hole so hard it broke the stalk. but nothing a little duct tape couldn't fix) and a spare quart of oil he carries which was ejected from his Magna on the same bounce. Cedar Lake was as gorgeous as I remembered it and we stopped for about an hour telling stories and basking in the beauty.


The 'sport' crew taking a break at Cedar Lake (L to R: Kate, Brandon Monnig, and Dave Moore)


Mike Guillory and I examining Dave's Yama-hammer at Cedar Lake.

Soon it was time to start heading back. We geared back up and headed out towards the drive. Needless to say, after almost 300 miles of spirited riding, I was starting to feel worn out. That coupled w/ the sun beginning to set behind us casting shadows on the roadway, and the fact that this time the hardest curves were at the END of the Drive lead to my only near-death experience for the weekend. I was at the end of the line w/ Dave, Brandon, and Mike ahead of me. We were heading back at our usual quick pace, when as we were coming up to a curve, I see Mike hit his brakes pretty hard. Well, I think... that's it. I knew from riding behind Mike all day that if he touched his brakes going into a curve, I better get on mine hard. So when I saw his brake light come on, and stay on longer than a second, I knew that it was all over. That there was no way I was going to make that curve. But what else can you do? So I jammed on the brakes hard, and flicked her over. Well, immediately my right peg scraped. I've never scraped a peg before so it rather startled me and I touched the front brake. Well, I guess I grabbed more than I had thought cuz it quickly righted me. So now I'm crossing the centerline, heading straight for the cliff. At this point it was either, Die, or try to turn and still die. So I began to chant to myself "Trust the Bike. Look THROUGH the Turn. Trust the Bike. Don't look at the Cliff. Trust the bike...". So I kick her back over, praying no cages come, and she comes around. Just swung a little wide. Yeah, that's it ;) Needless to say I forgot the rest of the ride home. The amount of Adrenaline in my body I could've outrun my bike back.

So we get back to the hotel to find Dave Berkey there waiting. Seems his batt. developed a dead short and so wouldn't allow the engine to even run off the alternator. He pulled a new batt. from somewhere and came down to see us. We stood around for awhile, waiting for the other groups to show up, and Mike Guillory and Dave Moore had ended up changing Motels (due to lack of occupancy in the current one). So they were going to run and check in and come back before we went for dinner. So they gear up, and Mike goes to start his Magna. As soon as he hits the starter...dead. WTF? So, another wrenching session commences accompanied by Dave Moore's repeated 'If he'd only bought a Yamaha', or 'Damn Hondas' comments. Ended up being a poor connection to the battery. Luckily a friendly Goldwing rider had an extra terminal nut and bolt and after a bit of swearing, they got it replaced and off they went. Dinner was uneventful except for this Harley that was in the parking lot w/ handle bars that were over the guy's head! No idea how he rode like that. Oh, and parking was rather scarce, so when ape-boy left, Mike Guillory went to take his parking spot. And parked his Magna's front wheel right in the middle of the oil puddle from the Harley. Classic. It also seems Don Bernhard had come down w/ a rather heavy bout of a Sinus infection of some kind so he was out most of the day and relied on Mike Wright to give him reports of everyone's activities. Sorry he missed out. Just have to come to the next one rt Don?


Dave Berkey, Ted and Gabriel Fuller, Dave Moore, and I milling about waiting for the others to go to dinner.


An impromptu wrenching session ensues on Mike Guillory's V65 'Taxi Cab' Magna. That's Dave Berkey on the left, and Mike on the right.

The rest of the evening was spent standing in the parking lot, telling stories, and enjoying some frosty beverages that Dave Berkey and Mike Wright had seen to smuggle in for us (Arkansas is dry South of I-40). We were also accosted by a couple who had been at a revival all evening. You can just picture a bunch of bikers standing around outside drinking beer. We were just ripe for saving ;) So eventually, the ~300 miles of hard riding I had done that day began to take its toll, and we said our goodbyes.

- Sunday, 28 September, 1997 -

I was awakened rather rudely to the sounds of pieces of shite..er, Harleys starting outside my window. So I clamored around, got ready and headed outside. Just in time to see some poser squeal his rear tire. Harrumph. I'm reeeaaaaallllly impressed. As Dave, Barry, I were gearing up to head out, Brandon and Kate came by on their way out to say bye. Don't envy them one bit. They had a heck of a ride ahead of them.


The Tulsa contingent geared up to head home.

The ride back was nice. I wanted to shoot the drive again fully rested so we headed that way, stopped at the lodge for breakfast and continued on. It was so quiet (well, if you've heard my bike, it's certainly not quiet, but you know what I mean.) and peaceful. Just me, 14 miles of 90-100 mph sweepers, and about 6,000 migrating Monarch butterflies. Oh well, can't have everything. I stopped in Talihina to get gas and let Dave and Barry catch up. The rest of the trip home was rather uneventful and we got to Dave's house about 1:00.

So in all, the weekend was incredible. This was my first experience w/ high-speed cornering and such and I learned a LOT. Finally learned that the bike can outperform me, and to just trust it. It wants to stay upright too :)

And to recap: 2 peg scrapes, 1 near-death experience, and a bunny.


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