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CURVESCOUT / PLACE TO SEE

Winona

Opening times, access and services can change - check before you go.

Winona sits where Route 19 meets US Highway 60, a small Shannon County town of about thirteen hundred people strung along the main road among the hills of the Mark Twain National Forest. It is not a destination in its own right, and it does not pretend to be. What it offers is a crossroads, a gas station or two, a few places to eat and a quick pause between the rivers of the Ozark National Scenic Riverways to the north and the timber country to the south.

The town grew up as a lumber community. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, logging companies stripped the shortleaf pine forests from much of the southern Missouri Ozarks, laying railways into the hills and building sawmill towns that boomed and then faded once the trees were gone. The forest you ride through today is the result of decades of regrowth and replanting, much of it now national forest land. It looks wild and timeless, but in many places it is younger than the oldest residents.

The road south from Eminence on Route 19 is one of the better short stretches of the Ozark Hellbender ride, climbing out of the Jacks Fork valley in a series of bends through oak forest and then rolling across the ridges to Winona. US 60 is a different animal: a fast, wider highway running east to Van Buren on the Current River and west toward Mountain View and West Plains, with gentle curves and heavier truck traffic. If you have time, the ride to Van Buren is worth it for the Big Spring nearby, one of the largest springs in the country.

Fuel here is reliable by local standards, but it is still a small town, so do not arrive on fumes late at night expecting choice. West Plains, about an hour west, is the nearest large town with motorcycle services. The usual Ozark warnings apply: deer at dawn and dusk, loose gravel at junctions, and hot, humid summers with fast-building storms. The best seasons are April and May, when dogwoods flower in the forest understorey, and October, when the oaks turn rusty red and the morning air in the valleys smells of woodsmoke.

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