Rides and Tales

Observations From Behind Bars

Home again, home again.

with one comment

Yeah, I know, I’m not supposed to say “jiggity jig”. That might offend the Irish.

I guess everyone who rides has this picture; it has that lyrical quality you hear so much about.

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The sexy granny, and I, rode the big yella bike to Austin, and back, with the reported “mystery tick” unresolved, but without further mechanical issues. The bike performed just fine. In fact, I had to do 100 mph a time or two. I just had to.

We took our regular route north on US and State Highways in light traffic through a few small towns that are fed by ranching or by the gas and oil industry.
Nixon, near the mid point of our route, is one such, founded, according to this mural, just over 100 years ago.

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We see many trucks and trailers hauling pipe and equipment or livestock, at this crossroads town.

Luling, TX, is just another 63 miles up the road and is a regular stop, for us. We take a coffee break, fix our makeup and fuel, here, so I won’t have to stop again before reaching our destination. Two neighborly men on BMWs were doing pretty much the same.

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They had parked in the shade of the store and waited till I was gassed up and ready to move away from the pumps before they left, that way I could have their shady parking spot
Damned white of them, I’d say.

Fifteen minutes later and we’re motoring through the city of Lockhart and up behind this fellow.

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My theory is that he rode from Austin to Realitos only to find that the girl had developed a headache.
That could explain the sour look he gave us as we motored on by his slow ass on this glorious Friday morning.


We arrived at our friends’ house. They always make Jill, and me, feel special and they make sure we have fun during our visits. We love them this ______________much.

We had a great time with them, even though they put me to work. I was told was going to be put to work blowing.
“Charlie don’t surf, and Mikie don’t blow”, I replied, so they gave me an air pump.
Here I am, hard at work, helping to prepare for the party.

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It all paid off, though, as I ended up in the swimming pool playing volleyball with seven , count them, seven lovely ladies. One hairleg jumped in and screwed up the ratio, but he got on his wife’s team. We didn’t keep score very well but I think my team beat them by about 1500 points. They, of course, dispute that.

Sunday we lunched, hugged necks, kissed cheeks, and skinned it back.


The weather was great, folks were out, especially in Luling, which bustles on the weekend, but I don’t ride a motorcycle to be stuck in traffic and the yella bike proved her worth. She’s pretty agile for a big girl.
Moving south, we ran up under some clouds, some of which have gathered for a rain event off to the east. The air cooled, a little.

Somewhere around the town of Helena we ran into butterflies. I don’t know what kind they are, but they look like this:

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A few miles off the highway , thereabouts, is the town of Panna Maria, pop. 96 (est.). “Panna Maria” is Polish for , “Virgin Mary”, and the town is the oldest established Polish settlement in the US. Their church is a historical landmark. So if you’re Polish, there you have it.

At any rate, we retraced our remaining steps to the big Bluff and had just about enough time to wash off the trail dust before grabbing our fiddles and meeting English Pete in town.

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I don’t know what Jill was thinking. She got hardly any of the bike

It was a full and rewarding weekend.

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The road goes on forever and the party never ends.

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Written by fiddle mike

September 8, 2008 at 2:57 pm

One Response

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  1. Good, keep it up.

    Greetings from PNG

    werigz

    September 9, 2008 at 1:17 am


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