Rides and Tales

Friday, ante meridian, I, along with my faithful Indian guide, “Sexy Granny”, loaded up the scoots and headed for the beautiful Texas Hill Country. It was sunny and 80°F. in the Sparkling City, but we soon rode under cloud cover and I no longer felt over dressed in my riding jacket.
In fact, one couldn’t have asked for a better ride. We blasted up I-37 to the town of Three Rivers where we stopped for fuel and coffee, and to get on State roads. Good roads they are, too, running through mostly ranch land with fence lines sporting brilliant yellow cactus blooms, the spiny Huisachetree singing back-up with it’s own gold blossoms. The roadside was covered in Black Eyed Susan, with a few Astors and Thistles for contrast, and unused pastures were dotted with White Prickly Poppies. A reg’lar Feria de las Flores ( Flowers Fair), as the Mexicans say.

We turned onto SH16 and into the  Free State of McMullen. “McMullenCounty is one of the few counties, if not the only county, in the US which does not take and has never taken federal subsidies of any kind”. Veering off on SH 173 we ridethrough Camp Verde, home of the U.S. Army experiments with camels, and into Kerrville.

Since Friday night hail storms were a possibility, we had reserved one of the park’s new-looking cabins and there we unloaded the bikes and headed to town. After riding to the Lakehouse restaurant to attend the needs of the flesh, we hiked one of the park’s nature trails, then relaxed and planned for the morning.

Saturday we vacated the cabin and found a fairly cozy spot to pitch our home away from home. First order of business was tacos and coffee at Sombrero de Jalisco Mexican Restaurant. Then we became moto-tourists and motored to a cave we’d never visited (Cave Without a Name), near Boerne. After the cave tour we cruised over to Luckenbach to take the obligatory photo in front of the store for our northern friends. In Luckenbach we ran into an old friend whose cut-off western shirt, straw hat and mullet haircut made him invisible, right at first. We caught up, listened to and discussed music, got introduced around, and then it was time for us to fly.

Fly we did, to the German town of Fredericksburg, home of Admiral Nimitz and good eats. Fredericksburg is a laid-back town where tourists meander the sidewalks carrying drinks they bought from the store-front brewery or wine shop. The “Auslander Restaurant” is another familiar haunt and there we assuaged our hunger with “Opa’s Sausage” and schnitzel.

Since our Made in USA Coleman stove had let us down in the field a second time, and camp firewood was soaked, we picked up a bag of charcoal on the way back to camp. I’m not real proud of that, but I am real proud of the the camp coffee and apple cobbler Jill cooked over it. The park host, again, came by with news of a Thunderstorm Watch, but we never saw a drop of rain.

Predicted heavy rain was the main reason for an early start back to Corpus town. We packed our kit, cleaned our site and headed south. We stopped in Bandera, the Cowboy Capitol, for breakfast at OST (Old Spanish Trail). That is as good a place as can be found for people and motorcycle watching. Danged good for breakfast, too, with pancakes “as big as your head” if that’s what you’ve a hankerin’ for.

The ride home was cloudy and definitely cooler than the ride up. As we neared the city we began to see wet roads and when we were not ten miles from our door we ran into light rain, remnant of the cold front that had ignored Kerrville. The bar ditches in our neighborhood were flooded, evidence of very heavy rain storms, the same storms that were only a few miles in front of us and headed into the Gulf. Nicely timed.

Click on the Slideshare logo to see full sized.

The regulator/rectifier from Bike Bandit, that was delivered and installed moments before leaving on a ride, cratered 200 miles away from home (on Sunday, of course) and boiled two batteries before we could get back.

Leaving the unit installed, I exchanged a few emails with Bike Bandit and they authorized a return, shipping included.

Afterwards, we discovered that the leads from the alternator were too long and had laid on the rear tire. I contacted Bike Bandit, again, and told them that the alternator may not have been faulty except for the leads and connectors.

Bottom line is: Bike Bandit had a replacement regulator in the wind just about the same time I shipped the return. Their email read:
Here at Bike Bandit.com, we strive to provide the best customer support possible.

I believe them and would trade with them again.

Saturday afternoon, I rode the 24 miles out to Port Aransas to meet with the sexy granny. She’d enticed me with a promised dinner and a show, the show being the Texas Sandfest. People come from all over to see and participate in this contest. Just off-hand, I saw the state flags of Oregon, Washington, Montana, Kansas, Alabama and Florida. We noticed that one of the sculptures was by a Ukrainian.

The “sand” in these parts, including Mustang Island, is actually “silt”, silt being finer than sand. The quartz silt also has clay mixed in, giving it some adhesion and making for excellent sand sculpting material, which is one reason this event is so popular.

We parked our bikes off the beach and had to walk a ways but the weather was perfect and we ain’t no sissies.

After, we dined on fish sandwich and oyster po’boy at the Island Cafe’ before saddling up and scootering back to the big Bluff, a fiery sunset on our right, and the rising moon on our left.

Life is good on the Third Coast.

Full screen view: Click on SlideShare logo.