Great American Campground and Dive Bar! Part 1 of 2

Part 1 of 2 Checking in and the Sandwich

   Brad made reservations at The Great American Campground and Dive Bar because it is near the Lake of the Ozarks.  Our plan is to have a good RV camping location so we could have daily rides around the lake and surrounding area.  It is an unfamiliar area, which we agreed to explore.  Gravois Mills was also about the halfway point from Conesville, Iowa, to Depew, Oklahoma.  We have Depew marked on our road atlas because we plan to go to the Rt. 66 Motorcycle Rally there during the following week. 

  We arrived at the Great American Campground and Dive Bar in the late afternoon.  It had a pretty decent-sized RV camp area.  We checked in.  A few campers remained after the Memorial Day weekend.  The campground was full during the holiday weekend. There is a centralized shower and bathhouse. Facilities were very clean and well taken care of.  We were told there are plans to expand the facilities with cabins around the pond. There was an outside and inside bar.  There is a stage outside for the bands and a large custom fire pit in the seating area.  The host checked us in and gave us the lay of the land.  We discovered that besides the Dive Bar, there was a bar named Whiskey Dicks down the road in one direction.  In the opposite direction, there was a bar named Big Dicks.  Brad proclaimed that we were sandwiched between two dicks.  The camp host turned a little red with embarrassment of Brad’s observation.  Hey, we didn’t come up with the names.  Makes us wonder what is on folks’ minds around here! 

  Brad and I usually park the bikes and walk to a bar and restaurant for the evening and walk back.  This lets us have a drink without risking a motorcycle accident.  The location is fantastic as a basecamp with easy access to adventurous ride routes for our motorcycle rides. The location is not so good for walking off the campgrounds.  There are no sidewalks.  It is a rural area which we like.  The two-lane road has a blind hill and high speed limit that isn’t very safe for pedestrians.  Regardless of the verbal warnings voiced by our host, we decided to walk the road to Whiskey Dicks, which is the closest of the two bars.  The Great American Dive Bar wasn’t open every night of the week.  We discovered some local restaurants and bars alternated open days in order not to take customers from each other.   Possibly a concept many will not understand until they visit and discover for themselves.  Brad and I begin our walk to Whiskey Dicks. 

Check back next week for Part 2. Whiskey Dicks!

  

Trailering from Iowa to Missouri

  Brad is driving the Rock Star Bus and pulling our motorcycles. Once upon a time, we observed what was referred to as “trailer queens.” Motorcycles being pulled on a trailer instead of being ridden. In those younger days, I looked at the motorcycles on trailers, mumbling to myself that the bikes are built to be ridden. I failed to consider why the older guys chose to trailer their bikes.  I am sure they had their reasons.  Fast forward two decades later, Brad and I are discussing plans for the upcoming year.  We have a revelation. Hey, those old guys trailering their bikes were onto something.  It is much more comfortable to be able to place the motorcycle on a trailer and travel safely inside a cage out of the weather.  An extra bonus is that we have space for our comfort gear.  Besides, after all the miles we’ve ridden together, we have nothing to prove.  We do what makes sense to us. 

  First stop is near the Lake of the Ozarks.  Travel is much easier when Brad plans ahead for where we are going to park the Rock Star Bus.  Not sure of the length of the bus, but there are two bathrooms and bedrooms onboard.  A full kitchen, washer and dryer, liquor cabinet, and food pantry.  Brad calls the bus a diesel pusher.  I just know it is pulling a trailer loaded with our motorcycles.  We ended up at a new to us place called The Great American Campground and Dive Bar in Gravois Mills, Missouri.  I think Brad was sold on the name alone!

Redneck Revival Conesville, Iowa

 

  In May of 2023, Brad and I met at the Redneck Revival.  Conesville, Iowa provides a spot we can easily find each other. Brad travels from Utah, and I’ve been traveling from Virginia lately. In our early years on the motorcycles, we used to select a town that is halfway on a major highway.  The final meeting selection is usually made the morning of arrival.  We’d declare that the first person to the midpoint town will find a place that is easily recognized.  Usually, it will be a restaurant where the first person can relax with an iced tea while waiting for the other person. Exit numbers and cross streets near a maw and paw restaurant allowed us to give each other solid directions.  Consider that we were riding motorcycles with paper maps.  We do have cell phones.  Calling and reading text messages are limited to fuel stops or quick stops to peek at the map.  We discovered a stretch of I-80 in New York where the east and west exit numbers did not match! Brad was waiting for me at a fuel station off a specific exit number. I was heading in the opposite direction and took the exit number that Brad identified. I checked three gas stations and found no Brad.  After several missed calls, we made contact on the phone. After a confusing “do you see the …” - “nope, do you see the … I am parked beside it” conversation, we decided to displace a few miles west of town at a rest area that we saw on the map. While Brad is waiting for me at the rest area, he spoke to a truck driver who told him the westbound and eastbound exit numbers were not labeled the same in this area. We did find each other at the rest area.  People are often amazed at how we can ride hundreds of miles and find each other in a strange town. Sure, at Conesville, we have to ride through the camping areas looking around, but it doesn’t take long to find each other. 

  This year the Redneck Revival seems like a blur to me.  There were a few good live bands, loud music, dancing, campfires, and Daryl’s Buffalo Trace. Daryl had to give me a ride in his golf cart to my hammock.  Not sure how the minibike I was riding early in the night made it home.  Good to have good friends who look out for each other and keep us safe.

  After the Redneck Revival, we loaded our motorcycles on a trailer and drove the Rock Star Bus to the Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri! 

Noteworthy Events Missouri 2022

Noteworthy Events Missouri Rides 2022

Hannibal turned out to be an excellent town to serve as a basecamp. Brad and I had some beautiful scenic rides. We enjoyed viewing the Mississippi River, Mark Twin Lake, rock cliffs, a lock and dam on the river, and several small restaurants with excellent food.  The town of Hannibal had a small town square that seemed to have nightly events during the summer. There was a night for classic cars and hot rods to cruise the boulevard.  Neat place to visit. 

Brad and I rode on both the Missouri and the Illinois sides of the Mississippi River.  We rode as far south as St. Louis and visited an old military friend, Alan.  We rode west around Mark Twain Lake, where Mark Twain’s birthplace had a monument.  The lake was pretty clear with few boats on the water.  The feeling was a little eerie comparing the lake to Lake of the Ozarks.  Unfortunately, as time passes, the land around the lake will ultimately be developed. 

From the RV basecamp, Brad and I developed a routine.  We’d depart the campground around 7:30 each morning for our motorcycle ride. First stop is to fuel up in town, then ride a few hours and find a small town for lunch.  Then we consult our road atlas for a route to return to camp for evening chow.  Which at this time was leftover fajitas from Conesville, Iowa! 

Gas Station Madness. It was a small gas station with two islands and four pumps. Brad and I stopped at this gas station two consecutive mornings. No traffic. Easy to fuel up and get on the road. The third morning was borderline chaotic. There was a line of vehicles lined up at the pump and in the street.  It was difficult to identify the vehicles that were finished fueling and trying to exit to the street. This is because a couple of vehicles tried to circle the pump island to stop on the desired side of the pump. After a brief observation, there was a vehicle clearly leaving the pump, giving me an opportunity to pull beside the pump.  I began fueling.  Brad was awaiting his opportunity. He zipped around a pickup truck further from the pumps that was stopped.  We couldn’t identify the driver’s intentions. Brad began fueling at the pump in front of me. That pickup truck parked at the opposite side of the pump from me.  The driver exited the vehicle and walked to the bed of the truck and began throwing things around.  The alarms went off in my head. This driver was pissed at Brad for zipping around him. I looked at Brad and smiled.  I gripped the handle of the fuel pump just in case the situation escalated.  The man cursed to himself and was visibly heated but did not make any advance toward Brad or me. 

During one return route, I spotted a historical gas station complete with old signs and vintage vehicles.  We stopped our motorcycles near the old garage and started admiring the antique trucks outside. A gentleman approached us from inside the garage. He declared the place private property, not open for public. He had purchased the property and was turning it into a campground. 

Riding to St. Louis to have lunch with Alan. A jeep aggressively crossed three lanes of travel and came inches from colliding with me on my motorcycle. 

Ice cream trouble. We were riding on the east side of the Mississippi River in Illinois. We stopped at a small, convenient store with fuel pumps.  There were about four parking spots against the side of the building and four spots away from the building at the edge of the paved area. Brad and I parked in the first spot against the building because it was shaded. It was a hot day. We went inside to get a drink and ended up with ice cream. We stood in the parking lot near our motorcycles, eating the ice cream.  A woman parked on the opposite side of the parking spaces near the grass, not the building.  She walked by us angrily, stating that we took her parking spot. All the other spots were empty. We were the only customers present. She was angry and let us know it.  After she departed, Brad and I were still puzzled. We thought maybe it was a local who simply liked her spot.  Then I spotted it.  Faded on the black asphalt parking lot was a very faint outline of a handicap symbol. You have to concentrate to see it. There was no other posting, such as a sign on the building or anything.  I imagine the woman wanted the once-upon-a-time handicap spot. Even with that theory, we wondered why the woman didn’t park beside us near the entrance. Instead, she parked at the spot the furthest from the entrance to the store. We still don’t know.  It was the same day that the pickup driver got angry at the fuel pump. 

On a more positive note, Brad and I found ourselves fueling at a larger, more modern fuel station. Dark clouds were forming in the distance. In many cases, we fuel our motorcycles, then share a parking spot away from the pumps.  This allows us to use the toilet, check the paper map, and drink or eat a snack while we are stopped. It is courteous not to block the fuel pumps. Anyway, a woman parked next to us in a full-size pickup truck.  She doesn’t hesitate.  She asks us to close the bed over on her truck bed. It was one of those folding covers. She wanted it closed before the storm came.  This happened on the same day as the guy was angry at the gas station in the morning, and the woman was angry while we ate ice cream in the afternoon.  We were skeptical but glad to do a good deed. 

Mark Twain Cave Campground, Missouri

Mark Twain Cave Campground, Missouri 2022

Brad found the RV campground that would accommodate his rock star bus.  When we parked the RV, there was an RV in the spot next door with Michigan tags. Made some small talk with the couple from Michigan and they were leaving the next day. We watched a pull behind RV trailer back in to a camping spot. I learned that it was something to do as an RV camper.  To sit and watch people back into their assigned spots. It can be entertaining.  The driver backs up, pulls up, backs up again, adjusts position without hitting anything all the while communicating with someone outside the vehicle call the ground guide.  The ground guide is usually their significant other displaying hand and arm signals. On occasion some shouting can be heard especially during challenging spots. Turns out the family that we watched park and set up their RV was from Utah.  The Utah family walked the loop road in front of the campers and spotted the Utah tags on Brad’s RV. We chat with the family briefly and in the end didn’t seem to click.

The campground and RV served as our basecamp while we rode to explore different routes in the area. The day Brad and I stayed at a hotel, a new RV camper arrived and parked next to Brad’s RV.  The new neighbors saw our RV empty and wondered where we were.  Other campers identified us as friendly and we took off on motorcycles early in the morning.  So the neighbors were a little concerned when we remained away overnight.  The next day when we arrived at the RV they were excited to meet up.  They greeted us with cookies and invited us to sit around their campfire. We learned it was two couples first time in an RV. It was a brother and sister with their spouses. Brad and I enjoyed the cookies and shared some stories around the campfire. 

Tipsy Bricks, Hannibal Missouri

 Tipsy Bricks, Hannibal Missouri

Hannibal was an interesting town.  Our first time walking the town looking for a lunch spot was memorable.  A parade of hot rods and classic cars cruised up and down the street.  It was a rolling car show with participants of all ages. New and old cars, trucks and motorcycles. Brad and I stood on one street corner and watched.  People told us this happens every week during the summer.  We found a place for chow.  Then we walked the town square where an outdoor musical concert was underway. We walked to the edge of town and found a bar called Tipsy Bricks.  Brad and I were the first customers this early during the day with the festivities around town. There was an older than us gentleman inside the bar.  He learned that we were out of town. He handed us two push pins and insisted we be the first to place pins on the map near the entrance.  It was one of those US maps using push pins to show where customers traveled from.  Brad and I obliged and then the gentlemen gave us a drink on the house.  

Two evenings later Brad and I decide to return to Tipsy Bricks.  Our plan was to park at Tipsy, walk to get some chow then finish at Tipsy Bricks.  As soon as we park our bikes, the same push pin gentleman starts aggressively yelling at us.  He tells us to move our bikes. We cannot park in their parking lot. I think it was just after noon and they were not going to open for another hour. We explained our plan to leave our bikes, walk to eat and return to Tipsy Bricks.  We told him we were there a couple days prior with the first push pins on the map. The gentleman paused and remembered us.  He explained that people try to park in their lot and walk to the concert in the nearby town square.  After a brief discussion we were granted permission to leave our motorcycles in their parking lot while we ate lunch down the street. 

Tipsy Bricks turned out to be a popular hang out for many locals. There is a small bar area with a pool table in a room adjacent to the bar.  There is an outside deck with picnic tables. Brad and I visited the bar a few nights in a row. I remember one night was karaoke night with a large crowd and a lot of singers! Tipsy Bricks didn’t offer any kitchen service. We ordered a pizza one evening and ate it at picnic table on the deck.  Ordering the pizza was a challenge. I called Dominoes as the bartender told us that they routinely deliver to the bar. Dominoes needed the full address and zip code for Tipsy Bricks. I reply that we are a few minutes away from Dominoes and the driver should already know where Tipsy Bricks was located. We’ve witnessed the Dominoes driver deliver pizza there earlier that evening. The voice on the phone insisted she needed the street address and zip code. I am puzzled.  I’ve also had a couple of drinks.  It has been years since I have called and ordered a pizza.  I worked at a Dominoes Pizza in the early 1990s in Hawaii.  I answered the phone, took orders, made pizza and delivered it in 30 minutes or less.  I was dumbfounded that the voice on the phone said she needed the exact street address and zip code. The name of the bar wasn’t enough.  I am asking how many Tipsy Brick bars are located in Hannibal?  Of course when I worked for Dominoes, the drivers matched the order address to the large paper map on the wall and located the delivery location. No phones or GPS! I begin to think that I was speaking to someone in China to place an order from a store two blocks from me. I was at a well know location in a small town.  I explained to the voice multiple times where I was located and stated I was from out of town. I’d ride down and pick up the pizza if I didn’t have any beers.  There was no negotiating this requirement for a street address and zip code. Brad gets the information from the bartender and relays it to me. I relay the street information to the voice on the phone to complete the order.  She has one last question for me.  She asked if I’d like a 2 liter bottle of soda!  My reply, “WTH? I told you that I was getting liqueured up at Tipsy Bricks, a bar! What and I gonna do with a bottle of soda?”  

Brad and I stayed in a hotel room that pizza night.  We had planned to drink a little and stay out late.  We don’t drink alcohol and ride.  We didn’t want to risk hitting a deer on the ride home late at night either.  That pizza was really good!  I remember that I was still sitting on the picnic table on the deck when the bar closed that night.  Brad and I walked around the corner to the hotel to sleep it off.    

VFW Poker Run - Start in Hannibal, Missouri

VFW Poker Run - Start in Hannibal, Missouri

My favorite part of  visiting Hannibal was participating in a VFW (Veterans of Foreign Wars) Poker Run. Brad and I will seek out local VFWs to stop and visit during our rides.  Hannibal has a VFW with a small bar and good participation from members. We learned that this particular bar tender was very talented at managing electricity.  Why? I am glad you asked.  Brad and I were sitting at the bar one afternoon drinking our tea.  Now keep in mind some of these establishments have a good selection of what I call snack foods. Foods like small bags of potato chips, frozen personal pizzas and maybe one of those hot dog warmer machines. So as we sat at the bar, another patron orders a personal pizza. We watch as something unusual happens.  The bartender yells at someone in the room behind the bar.  Perhaps to turn off something. Then she unplugs the refrigerator and plugs in the microwave.  As the microwave cooks the pizza Brad asks why she had to unplug refrigerator to use the microwave. We were informed that because of the remodeling, if the refrigerator was plugged in while using the microwave then the electric breaker will trip causing the lights to go off. Now watching the bartender plug and unplug the refrigerator and the microwave was entertainment! We had to order another round and stay awhile! 

The poker run started at the Hannibal VFW and ended at the same location.  The requirements were to draw a poker card from each VFW along the way.  The Hannibal VFW had quite a few items being raffled for fundraising.  Ticket sales and the items were prominently on display despite the renovation underway. Brad and I drew our first poker card and received the instructions for the game.  Pretty much we had to visit a few specific locations in the surrounding area.  Then return to the Hannibal VFW by the deadline to draw the fifth and last card.  I remember visiting another VFW where there were offering lunch as another fund raiser. We drew our second cards, admired the historic photos and memorabilia on display and rode onto our next stop.  We noticed a school bus full of adults pulling into these locations as we were heading out.  We learned that the VFW offered a school bus to transport poker run players.  Luckily the bus was always showing up as we were leaving so we didn’t have to wait in line to draw our poker cards. It was a neat way ride and see the area with a purpose.  Although after my second and third cards I knew that I didn’t have a chance to win the poker game.

Brad and I enjoyed meeting and speaking with the veterans along the route. We rode over Mark Twain Lake which was a neat sight. I remember riding thru some small railroad towns. I always enjoy seeing older towns in the midwest with the railroad tracks, tall buildings and conveyers to support train loads.  We spoke with a lot of good people.  Somehow folks started calling us Utah and Virginia after the license tags on our motorcycles.  We sure came a long distance for their poker run.  I didn’t like the guy we nicknamed “Machine Gun Kelly.” This guy was supposedly a veteran who sat at the bar loudly proclaiming how many people he killed during the war.  Luckily he left before we had to shut him up.  

There we were, sitting at a bar, one stop away from the final card for our charity poker run game. It would take us 10-15 minutes to ride to the Hannibal VFW to finish the poker run.  We were about to leave when a crowd of people show up.  A guy we remember as “Mario Andretti” was first to the bar.  Mario sat beside Brad and ordered two double shots of something. Brad introduces himself and makes small talk about the double shots.  Mario declared that the crowd that invaded the small bar was on the bus from the poker run.  Mario downed his two drinks rather quickly and ordered another one.  Somehow during Brad’s small talk, I heard Mario challenge us to a race.  As it turns out, Mario was on the poker run too.  He was headed to draw his final card just as we were.  Brad and I think there are two routes directly to the finish. So we inquire as to what type of motorcycle Mario was riding and which route he’d take to beat us in a race.  To our surprise Mario declared he was driving the big yellow school bus and he’d still beat us racing back!  Whoa! We need to slow this down and make sure everyone makes it to the finish safely.  For the record there was no race and everyone did arrive at the final location safely.  We witnessed no laws broken; this is just a story from my fuzzy memory.

At the final stop for the poker run we draw our last card.  Nothing good for my poker hand. The organizer takes our record showing the cards we drew at the other locations.  Brad and I squeeze in at the crowded bar to wait for the announcement of the winner and any official remarks.  Brad warns folks not to order any pizza because the refrigerator would need to be unplugged and the drinks will get warm. Everyone was laughing, telling stories and enjoying themselves. The host begins the awards ceremony.  The winners of the raffles are announced. Then the winner with the best poker hand was announced.  I had tuned out while the announcer spoke about poker.  I tuned out mainly because I had a bad poker hand.  Then I start to hear a voice stating, “Virginia, Virginia, is your name Bill?”  I answered affirmatively and asked why.  The announcer declared that I had won the worst poker hand category!  I won just under $300! Wahoo!  I followed suit with the real poker winner and donated my winnings to the VFW.  It was a good day!   

Conesville, Iowa to Hannibal, Missouri May 2022

May 2022 Hannibal, Missouri

Brad and I have rode north along the Mississippi River and ended up staying in Savanna, Illinois a few times.  Poopies, Iron Horse Social Club and east to Psycho Silo have been the highlight stops.  For 2022 we did something different.  We followed the Mississippi River south from Conesville, Iowa.  Hannibal is a small town in northeast Missouri known for Mark Twain’s boyhood home.  We camped at a campground near the Mark Twain Cave. The site was just south of city limits along a two lane rural road.  If you follow that same road south, you’d end up following the river to St. Louis. We did ride both sides of the river to and from St. Louis a couple times during our visit to the region. Excellent views on the east side leaving a well known biker destination, Fast Eddies in St. Louis. I remember trying to navigate to Fast Eddies Bar.  The map took me through some rough looking neighborhoods. All was good.

Mark Twain Memorial Light House

2014 Ride to Redwood Forest 6,846 miles!

The 2014 adventure was an awesome trip.  Bill spent three years exploring Southeast Asia while stationed on Okinawa with the Marines.  It was an exciting ride to unite with Brad and catch up with stories from the past three years.  Bill rode to Montana to meet Brad then decide where to ride to from there.  Below are some notes from the ride.

Bill rode 6,846 miles total from northern Virginia to the Redwood Forest and returned to Virginia.  Most in one day was 1,260.

• I rode the Badlands and into Sturgis for a day
• Saw one traffic fatality outside Spearfish
• Met Brad in Montana the next day
•  Blew the main oil seal of the engine. Down for two days repair so we went to the Testy Festy
• Rode some of Lewis and Clark's trial. Notable stop is the Lolo Hot Springs (a festival there too!)
• Rode around Mt Rainer
• Rode the entire Oregon Coast (literally from the Lewis and Clark bridge to the Redwoods)
• Rode through parts of the Redwood Forest
• Rode through the desert highlands of eastern Oregon and northern Nevada
• Rode around the forest fires at the time
• Saw many roadside signs thanking the Fire Fighters
• Exhaust pipe came disconnected from jug leaving Winnemucca, Nevada. Roadside repair kept me going until I got replacement bolts (now a tool kit item)
• Planned a Bonneville Salt Flats race but the flats were flooded
• Before and after linking up with Brad I slept in parks with my sleeping bag.  
• Rode in two days of severe thunderstorms and tornado spotting on the way through Nebraska, Missouri, and Illinois.  It rained the entire route from Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, West Virginia and finally cleared up once I reached the Virginia state line.