I had to scrape a path in the ice to get out of my sisters driveway but fortunately the roads had managed to melt off pretty well during the course of the previous day. The mercury still sat low in the thermometer, 28 degrees, but the bright morning sun helped to warm my bones…for a bit. I navigated my way east, out of Springdale traffic and into the desolate rolling hills of central Arkansas where it wasn’t long until the clouds rolled in and the temperature dropped considerably. In the matter of an hour I was second guessing my decision to leave and not hold out for one more day. The trees turned from damp and drippy to sparkly and white. Everything glistened with ice. Everything. A beautiful site indeed but one that comes with a price to pay, frozen fingers and a snot filled mustache. Despite the frigid temps and the constant threat of ice on the road it was one of the most memorable and enjoyable days on the bike yet. Something about the solitude and quiet that fills my soul. Roadside stops were longer than normal as I soaked in my wintery surroundings and marveled at the almost complete lack of noise. Quiet to that degree is difficult to find in this day and age so I’ve come to appreciate it more and more. After a full day of these conditions however I pulled into Heber Springs, Arkansas tired and ready for a hardy meal of slow cooked BBQ. Sleet began to fall as I brought my motorcycle to rest.
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