I have recently returned from a bike trip with my friend, Super Slab Steve.  For some reason, unknown to most bikers, Steve likes to ride the interstate.  He likes the four-lanes; the big concrete ribbons that can take you where you want to go quickly without the useless bother of actually seeing anything.  I knew this going into the trip, but sometimes friendship and a short ride window cause you to do some strange things.

              “How about a ride to Hannibal, Missouri, Steve?  We have 3-4 days and I always wanted to visit Mark Twain’s beginnings; hometown of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.  I thought we could take the direct route down and meander back along the Great River Road.  What do you say?”

              “Sure,” says Steve.  This is what Steve always says.  Steve’s agreeable until he sees curves.

              I took off from central South Dakota on a Monday morning and maximized my time by taking I-29 at a south-east angle before cutting over to a paved side road by-passing construction and the interstate.  I rejoined I-29 before Sioux Falls for the diagonal trip to Council Bluffs where I picked up Steve.

              After a quick planning lunch we headed out, again on I-29 South toward St. Joseph, MO.  While a trip on the interstate is, well, a trip on the interstate, we did experience a short rain delay when we stopped for gas in Mound City, MO and found the whole town was out of power because of a brief but apparently harsh thunderstorm.  Sadly, the young fellow at the helm of the fuel stop we chose was new and would not sell us a cup of coffee while we were waiting for power to return:  no computer, no sale.  Thanks to the technology of the day, I was able to establish that nearby towns had NO power difficulties.  Without the deterrent of a neighborly cup of coffee, Steve and I checked Mound City, MO off of our list of places to stop and rode to the next town where we took our break, filled gas, and went on our way.

              It should be noted at this gas stop that I ride an old, carbureted 2004 Kawasaki Vulcan Classic with a bullet-proof shaft drive (positive attribute) and a dinky gas tank (negative attribute.)  While this configuration may hamper travel speed due to frequent stops, it’s excellent for reliability and seeing the country-side.  Steve straddles a fuel injected 2002 Harley-Davidson Road King with obligatory belt drive, nearly as reliable and hardly as thirsty.  We have logged many miles together on this combination of steel steeds and likely will turn many more.

              At St. Joseph we parted from I-29 to take US-36 East, still a four-lane but at least not the interstate.  At Chillicothe, MO we refueled and ended our day at a convenient motel next to our fuel stop.  A comfortable room, an in house restaurant and pub combined to end our first day in fine style.

              Day two began with a fruitless search for a local breakfast restaurant, which led us to the highway and the next town.  This murderous delay of my morning coffee was a lucky turn and one of the gems of the trip.  Off the road in Brookfield, MO we found the Simply Country Café.  We were treated to friendly service, good coffee and wonderful food.  After an extended break, we again hit the eastbound road, stopping only for fuel on our way to Hannibal.  A quick informational break at a visitor center and we were off to the old part of town and Samuel Clemens’ boyhood home.

              ‘Charming’ is the most definitive word to use for this part of the Hannibal experience.  We spent several hours in the historic section of what was once a primary part of town, close to the lifeline of the mighty Mississippi.  The original structure of the Clemens’ house and those of neighboring buildings have been kept in original condition to offer a more complete picture of the childhood that sourced the stories of Americana many of us grew to know.  The scene makes it easy to visualize Tom Sawyer whitewashing the fence or Huck Finn pushing a homemade raft into the current.  After wandering the neighborhood, museums and attractions, we stopped for a quick bite and headed for the return portion of the trip: the Great River Road.

              Now, what I’ve come to find about the Great River Road in my brief and passing research on the subject, is that there really isn’t one.  Well, there IS, but there isn’t ONE.  The Great River road is, much like the Lincoln Highway or Route 66, an amalgamation of connecting roads which change as the roads and conditions of those roads change.  In addition to its constant change, the GRR is not one collection of roads, but TWO – one on each side of the river.  For those of you who like everything planned in a concrete and laid out manner, like Steve, for instance, this makes for a difficult, stressful trip.  For you other adventurers who carry your tent and sleeping bag on every trip and use your GPS only when you want to find out where in the heck it is you’ve lost yourself to – such as myself – it’s an escape to long for.

              Since my ability to find and hold these trails has proven itself repeatedly in the past, Steve takes little offense to allowing me to birddog our track.  His dislike of the curves is normally tempered by the scenery.  My plan, sketchy as it was, was to access the scenery quickly, thereby distracting Steve from his inherent anxiety at following small, winding roads with nothing to look at.  As near as I can tell, this causes his mind to wander to the end of “Easy Rider” at which time he wants to make a break for wide concrete and greater population density.

              With this in mind, and knowing that in an effort to promote the distribution of your tourism dollars, most of the states sharing the Mississippi as a border place signs which, while not always completely up-to-date, offer an excellent guide to the GRR.  Using this information as a template, we headed north from Hannibal and I followed the first sign that promised to guide us to the Great River Road…and after a quarter mile we encountered a sign that informed us that this portion of the road was closed ahead due to construction.  The fix was simple: turn around and head further north to the next access point.  Sadly, before we reached the next sign, Steve had to stop to plug in his phone and expressed his apprehension.

              “Maybe we could head northeast to Des Moines,” he offered. “There are a couple good brewpubs there.”  He was offering alternatives and falling back on the familiar, the comfortable. 

              Looking at the surrounding countryside and imagining the level, straight, uneventful ride back through Iowa and Eastern South Dakota, my enthusiasm faltered a bit.  Still, we had time to ride only a small portion of just one side of the river and the dullness of the return was going to have to happen eventually.

              “Sounds like a plan,” I agreed, “Any ideas?”

              “Well, I don’t really know how to get there from here.  You got your map?”

              “Steve,” I smiled.  “Saddle up and follow me.”  It’s good to be appreciated for something.

              From this point we snaked our way across the map past Mt. Pleasant, IA, the home of the first woman in America to practice law, west through Ottumwa, most importantly, home of fictional character “Radar” O’Reilly and northwest past the beautiful Dutch community of Pella and into Des Moines.  During State Fair week! 

              Distancing ourselves from the fairgrounds we found a motel which still had rooms, primarily because it was located off an interstate exit that was under construction.  This issue didn’t bother us much since we were out to ride and we were tired.  We checked in, dropped our gear and made our way to the brewery I can’t remember.  An excellent meal and a few good micro-brews took the edge off of my disappointment at missing out on the Great River Road experience.  Steve has his own talents and, from my experience, knowing and finding a good Brewpub is a much underappreciated skill.  We retired to our room for a recap of the days’ events and some needed rest.

              The final day of our trip found us at the local Cracker Barrel for breakfast and a beautiful day for a ride home…even if it was on the interstate.  I stopped at Steve’s house for a cup of coffee and then followed a slow, circuitous road home.  

              Pondering and planning my solo Great River Road trip the whole way.