Designate a pivot point for the Midwest and it could surely be Hannibal, MO. Located on the Mississippi River north of St Louis, MO, and south of Quincy, IL, it's darn close to dead center. It's the bastion of Midwest "manners," a mix of Southern Baptist honesty and Midwest hospitality.

The cool, dry May, desert air carries a slight nip as it pours over the Victory Cross Country's short windshield and proves an excellent adjunct to the pick-me-up qualities of our breakfast caffeine. The early morning traffic is light, the road lonely, and in the distance, the fabled snowcapped peaks of the Rocky Mountains dominate the landscape.

We race toward the setting sun, darting from curve to curve along Arkansas' Route 14. A glance at the odometer verifies that the miles have really piled up since our departure from North Carolina. But the welcome climb into the foothills of the Ozark Mountains is reenergizing a couple of bottom-sides made weary by the Natural State's vertically-challenged eastern reaches.

My Honda VFR's odometer spins past 30,000 as I enter the Missouri River town of Boonville. Over the years, I have ridden some of what I thought were the Show-Me State's finest back roads. However, these roads were mostly confined to Missouri's extreme southern border, where it butts up against the Arkansas hill country. Jumping off the main line, I had my doubts that the roads this far north would offer much excitement.

The light slanting through the slit in the blackout curtains seems to indicate the day has dawned bright and sunny. Slowly, like a tortoise, my dream-fogged head extrudes from the dark shell of the motel room at the door and swivels in the outside world. Yes, it's a beautiful morning to begin a tour. A familiar grin tugs on the corners of my mouth and suddenly I'm ready for that first cup of bad coffee.