SEARCH Travels With LD

Friday, November 27, 2009 - Rogers AR

I'm outa here!, Salem City Park, Salem AR, November 27, 2009
I'm outa here!, Salem City Park, Salem AR, November 27, 2009

Bleak Friday

This can't be happening - I'm dreaming, right? It's 4:00AM and the Walmart parking lot here in Poplar Bluff is already half full and filling fast. I gotta get outa here - it won't be long before I'm blocked in.

By the time I finally pried my eyes off this amazing sight and got my act together it was 5:00AM cars were circling like vultures over road kill. Whoever dreamed up this Black Friday thing must be grinning from ear to ear.

It's a bleak Friday indeed!

Friday in the Ozarks

It took me all day, even with the 5:00AM start, to cross northern Arkansas on US 62. The Ozarks may be attractive in some seasons, but not this one. What a dull dreary day's ride it was. Bleak. The trees in this area are mostly a scrubby oak, broken down by an ice storm a few years back. The economy is pretty bleak too - there's some serious poverty along this route.

An observation on tires and tire pressure

The guys at Paducah Tire Service set the tire pressure in the new front tires they mounted for me Wednesday at the full rated 80psi rather than the door jamb recommended 65psi front and 60 psi rear I had been running. On a whim, to see what they would do and to test the result, I had them adjust the rears, without specifying a number. They set those at 80psi as well.

Today's run through the Ozarks on US 62 was a good test and I like the results. The rig is much more stable and responsive to steering inputs and less likely to sway and toss my stuff on the floor on a rough road than I've been accustomed to. A down side is the ride is a little harsh on expansion joints but I can live with that - the handling stability is worth exchanging a soft ride for. I'm going to keep them set at the 80psi and watch tire wear for signs of overinflation. My guess is these tires are loaded heavily enough that overinflation won't be a problem. We'll see.

In Wally's world

By day's end I emerged into Bentonville AR, home of Wally's world - to be welcomed at the big Supercenter across from headquarters by a nice clean No Overnight Parking sign. This area is pretty highly and newly developed - I wasn't surprised.

Night camp

Wal-Mart Supercenter in Rogers AR

Wal-Mart Supercenter Store #5260, 4208 Pleasant Crossing Blvd, Rogers, AR 72758 - (479) 621-9769

A Siberian dog signal-howl

A camp in the middle of a clear, dark winter's night presents a strange, wild appearance. I was awakened, soon after midnight, by cold feet, and, raising myself upon one elbow, I pushed my head out of my frosty fur bag to see by the stars what time it was. The fire had died away to a red heap of smouldering embers. There was just light enough to distinguish the dark outlines of the loaded sledges, the fur-clad forms of our men, lying here and there in groups about the fire, and the frosty dogs, curled up into a hundred little hairy balls upon the snow. Away beyond the limits of the camp stretched the desolate steppe in a series of long snowy undulations, which blended gradually into one great white frozen ocean, and were lost in the distance and darkness of night. High overhead, in a sky which was almost black, sparkled the bright constellations of Orion and the Pleiades--the celestial clocks which marked the long, weary hours between sunrise and sunset. The blue mysterious streamers of the aurora trembled in the north, now shooting up in clear bright lines to the zenith, then waving back and forth in great majestic curves over the silent camp, as if warning back the adventurous traveller from the unknown regions around the Pole. The silence was profound, oppressive. Nothing but the pulsating of the blood in my ears, and the heavy breathing of the sleeping men at my feet, broke the universal lull. Suddenly there rose upon the still night air a long, faint, wailing cry like that of a human being in the last extremity of suffering. Gradually it swelled and deepened until it seemed to fill the whole atmosphere with its volume of mournful sound, dying away at last into a low, despairing moan. It was the signal-howl of a Siberian dog; but so wild and unearthly did it seem in the stillness of the arctic midnight, that it sent the startled blood bounding through my veins to my very finger-ends. In a moment the mournful cry was taken up by another dog, upon a higher key--two or three more joined in, then ten, twenty, forty, sixty, eighty, until the whole pack of a hundred dogs howled one infernal chorus together, making the air fairly tremble with sound, as if from the heavy bass of a great organ. For fully a minute heaven and earth seemed to be filled with yelling, shrieking fiends. Then one by one they began gradually to drop off, the unearthly tumult grew momentarily fainter and fainter, until at last it ended as it began, in one long, inexpressibly melancholy wail, and all was still.

more...