Thursday, April 30. Fourth day of travel
I’m up early. I’m still in the plains and I have some miles to go before I get to the mountains. My goal for the day is to get east and stop for a visit with Brad Calbert of Skunkwerks Moto.
Brad is one of the most fascinating men I would like to know better. At first blush between the coveralls, the mid-west modesty and the dirty hands it’s easy to miss the intelligence, history and achievements contained within. After a career in technology including robotics and fabrication Brad and his partner John decided that work should be fun so they opened an independent motorcycle and fabrication shop. They must have really hated their previous gig.
I was looking forward to a visit, not just to see their new shop but to sit with Brad and discuss the world as it is today.
Being flat and boring the ride to Skunkwerks was quick and uneventful with nothing to see that I felt was worthy of a photo. I arrived at Skunkwerks, got a quick tour and then sat down for the chat that never happened.
When I ran the store for Max I learned early on that there would be days when we would serve as the diversion of the day to an older rider, if they still rode at all. Nice folks, they would come in to kick tires and chat with absolutely no plan on doing anything that would lead to an improvement on my or the shop’s bottom line. Most of the time it’s also a pleasant diversion except for those times when there’s much to be done which is pretty much all the time in a motorcycle shop except the fourth Wednesday in Febuary.
Sure enough about 30 seconds after Brad and I sat for a visit in comes Mr. “I’ve got all the time in the world” with his 20 year old BMW he bought used a few months ago that now has a slipping clutch after 1,000 miles. He has no plans to fix it even after Brad offers to do the job at 50% less than a BMW dealer would charge but he’s happy to go on for close to 20 minutes while Brad and I nod politely while telling Brad to “be on the lookout for something cheap.” I guess he hopes he can pass that K bike off on someone else who will miss a slipping clutch on a test ride.
Unfortunately for me Brad had a shop to run and I had to keep moving so rather than exchange ideas with someone I was eager to do this with I got to hear the trails and tribulations of an old K bike rider.
When I would get gas, order food, etc I’d start with a mask or leave my helmet on with chinbar down. It doesn’t protect me but it prevents spread. The approach to masks was very different from state to state. I never got a chance to discuss this with my host. In retrospect it’s probably a good thing Mr. KRS couldn’t see my exasperations.
Brad had suggested I check out great road on my way out of town. It was a bit of a detour but provided a wonderful if brief sample of the Mark Twain National Forest.
I finished up the day with a direct route to Poplar Bluff and another Hampton Inn. The memorable feature of Thursday night in Poplar Bluff was an excellent dinner delivered from the local Italian place. Tip in advance did not result in utensils. Like every other Hampton the breakfast bar and coffee service was closed. This meant I had to ask the person at the desk, etc. I am now adding a spork to my permanent tankbag kit. I had some good dinners that would have been much better with a solid fork.
The memorable feature of the day were some of the lines I saw in the small towns I passed through. They look longer than they are because everyone is practicing distancing but they all lead to the local government office, Salvation Army or other relief organization. I had avoided the news but that morning I looked and saw 33,000,000 Americans unemployed. That’s equal to the Great Depression of 1933 however we have four or five times the population if that’s any consolation. On a percentage basis unemployment passed 14% which I believe is the highest since it has been tracked. Ride through any small town and you can buy flowers at Walmart while the lady that owns the closed flower shop, her employee and her landlord are standing in line.
Not everyday on a big ride is going to be the best ever and this was such a day. Still a million times better than work and worthy of thanks at bedtime along with a prayer for our economic and physical health.
Woodward, Oklahoma to Poplar Bluff, Missouri
644 miles in 14:42
Next: Ribville