New Information Has Come to Light, Man

While working on Throttle & Thread, I reached out to the Motorcycle Industry Council about attending AIMExpo. I’ve attended in the past as part of my work with Arkansas State Tourism, so I figured it was worth reconnecting.

They asked for a bit more about me, so I sent over my resume along with some old content I’d created for my original MotoArkansas site. A day later, they got back to me — not only were they interested, they wanted my insight on motorcycle tourism. We’ve set up a meeting later this month.

Around the same time, I happened to meet with the current Arkansas Director of Tourism and asked about the state’s current motorcycle marketing efforts. That’s when I learned they’ve decided to stop printing the motorcycle travel guide they’ve produced for years, shifting their focus entirely online.

That hit me. A few years ago, I built a MotoArkansas website with all the state’s best routes. It’s still live — but untouched. No updates, no fresh content, no marketing, no plan. Just sitting there.

And here’s the kicker — I’ve got the logo. I’ve got banners, t-shirts, even stickers. I’ve got a few loyal fans. I sold a lot of shirts back in the day. Somewhere along the way, though, I hit what Seth Godin calls The Dip — that inevitable, discouraging valley between early excitement and real traction. It’s the point where you either push through and make something great… or you quit. I quit.

Now I see an opportunity. With the state stepping back from its printed motorcycle guide, I can step in with a MotoArkansas printed guide — part travel resource, part collectible zine — to fill the void.

Looking back, I see the connections: my time at Arkansas State Tourism, my work as brand manager for Arkansas Law Tigers, my relationships with MotoAmerica and the broader motorcycle industry. The truth is, I already have everything I need to make MotoArkansas a successful brand again — and this project gives me a clear path to explore when I’m ready to launch Throttle & Thread in full.

Sometimes we can’t see the thing that’s staring us in the face. The universe was calling, and I didn’t answer — distracted by the shiny new thing, or maybe afraid of failing.