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Lexiconstipation or, How I Spent My Summer

Joined
Aug 23, 2008
Messages
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Location
Corpus Christi, TX
I've been dogging myself for several months now, several stories that could be written up and posted on TWTEX and nothing written up. So, I figure if I do the Life magazine versions (mostly pictures, little text), it might get things flowing along. But, then again, if there's no interest, I can forget about it with a clear conscience.

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Here's the things I should've written about:
 
:popcorn:

Post a bazillion pictures, we'll ask questions and you fill in the blanks?


.
 
Marty and the uber Ninja

I've already mentioned running into Marty Ladwig at the Texas Mile in March and his insanely fast passes on a bone-stock 2012 Kawasaki ZX14R but wait, there's more.

To recap: I met Marty while he was lounging around the starting grid, waiting his turn to run. Marty was dressed in some Kawasaki racing leathers, riding a black ZX14R, said he had heard the stories and wanted to see how fast it would go. Marty emailed me this picture. I'm not sure who took it, but it wasn't me:

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Marty had a number of passes above 195 mph.

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Several weeks after the Texas Mile, I met Marty in San Antonio and pumped him a bit for his story (hoping to write a magazine article on his outing) and I find out he's a 2-time national motorcycle drag racing champion in what was the AMA/Prostar 600 SuperSport class. Marty was given a bike by Kawasaki, a van and a credit card by Gary Booher, owner of Kawasaki of Universal City, and set out campaigning the bike on his own, beating the Kawasaki factory team in the process. BTW, the factory team rider: Ricky Gadsen.

After that he decided he wanted to race in cages so he joined Chevrolet's team driving a Chevy Cobalt in the front-wheel drive drag race series and before that was all done, was a 2-time National champion again. Deja vu all over again.

The day before I rode out to the Big Bend Open Road Race in April, I went by San Antonio again, met Marty at the Kawasaki dealership along with Meredith, a photographer friend of mine, and we rolled the bike off the showroom floor, loaded it up and headed for the dragstrip. Marty's best pass that night was a 9.61 quarter-mile with a top speed of 162 mph. Amazing.

Here are some of Meredith's shots:

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The only revisions to the bike were reflashing the ECU to remove the top speed limiter and taking the mirrors off the beast. No looking back for Marty.

Almost forgot, the other fun part about the evening was watching a fellow roll out his brand new Mustang GT still with the dealer plates on it and put it into the wall head-on about halfway down the strip. He probably had fun explaining that to his wife and the insurance company.

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He hit hard enough, it even bent the rear quarter panels. Marty's comment: "There's lots of ways not to wreck at a dragstrip."
 
2012 Big Bend Open Road Rally

In April this year I went back to the BBORR again to work with Dabney on the timing crew. I played hooky last year and did the Heart of Texas rally instead (Please don't tell Dabney). This year, Dale was also invited by Dabney to come along and help out. I didn't have to twist Dale's arm very much to get him to go.

Thursday, I got a head start on Dale, having spent the night with friends in Floresville after hanging out with Marty at the dragstrip, rode out hwy 90 through Castroville, Hondo, Uvalde, Del Rio, etc. to Sanderson. Dale showed up several hours later, having made good time himself.

This year, instead of the community potluck Sanderson always held for the drivers and BBORR staff, this was a ticket-only catered affair. The food was good, but I liked the potluck better.

Friday was spent checking over the gear, watching the cars show up for tech and then heading downtown for the annual pre-race parade. As usual, that's where I took most of my pictures. Charlie Friend led off the parade in his primer red Corvair with the V8 stuffed in the back seat.

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And though the show was mostly Corvettes, there were a lot of other cars on hand. Drivers were throwing candy to the kids, a long-time tradition at the parade.

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My buddies, Lee and Mary Jo, were on hand again. More about them later.

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Dale and I followed this car, a McLaren, back from Sanderson to Ft. Stockton Thursday evening after the dinner in Sanderson. We let him lead out because we didn't want to get the ticket for speeding, but he got hung up behind a semi at one point and we both made sure to pass him, before letting him by again. We were bragging all weekend: "Yup, we passed that McLaren coming from Sanderson the other day."

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Anyway, you get the idea, an endless parade of about 150 cars, some mundane, some really nice.

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Then it was off to the volunteer banquet, where we got set up with our radios and goodie bag. Saturday morning we were up at Dale-thirty, out on the course by 6:00 and setting up the speed trap equipment, where we were to spend the day.

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Middle of nowhere:

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I had the help of a petroleum geologist from Odessa while Dale and another fellow were up the road a bit with a flip board posting the speeds I measured for the drivers as they went by. It worked well until the return leg where we wound up out of radio contact and so couldn't post any speeds.

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We hit the awards banquet, then rode back home on Sunday, after having a great weekend.

Lee and Mary Jo threw a tread on #71 about 10 miles out of Sanderson on the return leg, never had anyone show up with a wrecker for them and wound up driving the 50 miles back to Ft. Stockton at 10 miles an hour. They weren't too happy about that. Hopefully, things will go better next year.
 
Houston Half-Mile

At the Texas Mile, a number of the tuner teams weren't there this time and I was told that some of the folks with Hennessey were starting a shootout in Houston. It would start as a half-mile shootout, the Houston Half-Mile. http://www.houstonmile.com/ Ed, who does the timing at the Texas Mile, was asked if he would do the timing. When he declined, they recruited Dabney, who added Dale and I to his team. His team consisted of himself and Steve, a friend of his from Nebraska, who hand-builds the timing equipment used at the events.

Steve built the orange boxes you see at the end of the previous post. They measure the elapsed time between two laser/photocell setups spaced a certain distance apart, either 132 ft. or 66 ft., depending on the event. At the half-mile, Dabney and Steve would be measuring the speeds at the finish line and radioing them to us. We would be on the return road, printing out the timing slips, recording them in the computer, and handing the slips to the drivers as they came by on the return road.

Dale and I drove up from Corpus Friday afternoon and checked in with the tech crew at the airport. After getting our room for the night, we went out to eat with the Hennessey crew. I wound up sitting with one of their newest hires, a young fellow from Louisiana. We got started talking about LeMons racing and he had actually done it in Louisiana.

He was showing me pictures of their car and racing team, the Cajun Jihad, a bunch of politically incorrect Cajuns wearing turbans and burlap sacks with crawdads and machine guns stencilled on them. He said the car was equipped with a giant loudspeaker and rode around the track with Middle Eastern music wailing incessantly from the giant speaker on the roof, driving everybody else on the track nuts. The car's driver always had his ipod and earbuds going so he didn't have to listen to the music. Apparently, the car was a crowd favorite, but didn't finish the race. I'm going to have to go see one of those races sometime. They were written up on Jalopnik.com: http://jalopnik.com/5281002/team-cajun-jihad-makes-big-impression-on-infidel-judges-chances-for-world-peace-set-back-decades According to the Jalopnik comments, the car was known as "The Piece of Shiite."

It rained all night that night in Houston. We got up early, Dale-thirty again, scrounged some breakfast and admired the car parked in the hotel porte cochere. Apparently an art car parade was being held in Houston that day.

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Then we headed for Ellington Airport, where the event was to be held. When we rolled onto the field about 5:00, it was still raining. At 7:00, when the thing was supposed to start, it was still raining. There was a car show also held at the airfield as part of the festivities, but I never made it down there to see what all was going on.

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Our timing shack. With all the rain, I was sorta glad we were in the Element and not on our bikes.

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All set up. Dale's confirming the car's speed. I'm printing out the labels. We had several younger fellows chasing the timing slips out to the drivers.

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The taxiway that was to be used to get to the starting line was under water. When the rain finally cleared up, and the event got started, the cars had to convoy up the return road and up the runway to the starting line, get gridded up, run till everyone had gone, then do the convoy thing again. In spite of slowing things down and the late start, I think I remember we did about 250 runs that day. There were maybe 50 participants and I think everybody was satisfied with the number of runs they were able to work in.

So, most of my pictures were taken as the cars and bikes were convoying back around to the start line. A bunch of the airport firemen showed up to watch the event, standing on top of their firetruck for a better view. We had a few passes above 200 mph. Not bad for a half-mile. Just like the Texas Mile, the camouflage Ford GT was the quickest one there.

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Once the race was over, Dale and I met up with Dabney and Steve for dinner. Dabney (and I think Steve, as well) had been ordering bacon-wrapped shrimp every time he went out to eat and was always asking the waitress to get the cook to pull the tails off the shrimp before it was served to him. He'd always get a funny look from the waitress and I'd explain, "Those tails are just too scratchy going down."

Sunday morning, it was time to head back to Corpus. They were supposed to do the event again this October, but I don't see anything posted about it on their website.
 
International New Biker Rally - Nuevo Laredo

Looking good so far, I can' wait to see what is next!

Dale

What's next is the International New Biker rally in Nuevo Laredo. Memorial Day came and went without our making it to Motohermandad for the first miss in four years. Just couldn't make it this year, which was made all the worse because the organizer, Alex, decided this one was the last one. No more Motohermandad.

Looking for something else to do, I wound up deciding to go to the International New Biker's rally in Nuevo Laredo.

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Dale signed on, but then couldn't make it when his work schedule got scrambled. Rick was in and Bato signed on. I saddled up Rocinante (II) and headed out with Rick on a Friday morning.

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The weather cooperated for once and the temps were in the low 80's on our run through Alice and Freer to Laredo. When we arrived about 11:00, Bato was running a bit late so we went by Born Again Bikes, visited a bit with GrandPaulZ and admired the Triton and other bikes in the shop. About the time we said goodbye to Paul, Bato texted us he was in town.

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We made a couple stops in town to find some replacement batteries for Bato's SpotTracker, then did a bike blessing for his F650 in the Academy parking lot. Turning around to leave, Bato dumped the bike. I told him the bike had been both blessed and baptised at the same time. From Nuevo Laredo, Bato was headed on south to do some riding near Guadalajara.

We crossed the bridge, found the rally a block off the end of the old, downtown bridge, said "Hi" to the International New Bikers setting up, then went and checked into our hotel, the Quality Inn on the south end of town.

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After checking in and finding the hotel full of soldiers, we returned to the rally ate some lunch. Bato left to get papers for his bike and we watched a local radio personality interviewing the bikers. That was the last we saw of Bato. He'd left us a note at the hotel saying since it was still early, he'd decided to check back out and head on.

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We had met the bike club at a rally in Monclova two years earlier when they stayed at the same hotel we did. When we pulled up at their rally, they recognized us immediately. They even let us hang up our bike blessing banner at their registration tent.

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The fellow in Red on the right is El Rayo, club president.

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Friday night, I went to bed a bit disappointed. Only about 25 bikes had shown up, most of them with the INB club. It seemed a wasted trip. We had almost 2 cases of bibles to give away. Saturday began slow. At lunch, they served arroz con pollo (chicken with rice) to anyone that was around and wanted some. It was pretty good stuff.

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And as the afternoon wore on, the rally picked up steam and riders began showing up from other clubs and towns. Some random pictures:

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At 6:00, we were scheduled to do a group ride through town. At about 15 till, it started raining. And rained. And rained. I wondered if the ride would go on anyway, or if it would be cancelled. I wondered about guys who had been pounding down beers all day long riding through town en masse on wet streets.

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We all huddled under the canopies, trying to stay dry.

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However, after about half an hour, the rain let up and we all fired up the bikes and rode off into the sunset. We wound up in front of a church across town for a group picture with the bikes.

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Back at the rally, it was starting to get a bit late, so Rick and I had some dinner, then headed back to the hotel. We don't usually stay out very late in Mexico.

The next morning, the soldiers at the hotel were gearing up and getting ready to roll out for the day. We still had some bibles left, so we handed them out to the soldiers if they wanted one. They all did.

I told them my wife was praying for my safety while I was in Mexico, then pointed at them and their trucks and said, "See what happens!"

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The soldiers were there because the entire police force of Nuevo Laredo had been fired and the soldiers were on hand until the police force could be reconstituted.

This is a shot taken by Guillermo Batres, a photographer taking pictures at the rally. Well, Guillermo is in the picture, so it was his camera, but someone else taking the picture. The shot pretty much sums up the weekend.

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Rick and I mounted up and headed out. There was a bit of traffic getting across the bridge, pesos to change back to dollars, some gas to buy, then the ride back to Corpus, which was warmer than the ride to Laredo had been.

One thing I noticed, the exchange houses had better rates of exchange on the Mexico side of the border than on the Texas side. Maybe next time in town I'll buy pesos after I cross the border.
 
Lost in the Ouachitas

I'm in Andy..:clap:

Great! I'm just about done.

Several weeks ago, both Dale's wife and my wife were out of town. Dale looked at me and said, "How about a ride to the Hill Country?" That sounded good, but I suggested the Davis Mountains, since I haven't made it there yet. A day or so later, I thought, "How about Arkansas?"

CMA headquarters is located in Hatfield, right on the western edge of Arkansas. We could do some riding in the Ouachitas and while we were in town, pick up another case of Spanish bibles, saving shipping costs. Dale liked that idea. Folks we contacted at the headquarters also mentioned it was the weekend of the Arkansas CMA State Rally, held at Lake de Gray, about 90 miles southeast of Hatfield. Dale liked the idea, so the trip was on.

We left Corpus about 1:00 on Thursday afternoon, putting us in Houston right at rush hour. For some variety, I got off a locked-up highway 59 downtown and we hunted around till we found the on-ramp for the HOV lane a couple blocks north of the ballpark.

A bit north of Shepherd, we stopped for dinner at the Texas grill, which turned out to be a good place to eat.

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Then we pushed on to Longview for the night, about 450 miles or so from Corpus, staying at a Best Western on the north end of town. In the morning, we headed on up hwy 259. I wanted to go over the mountain north of Broken Bow, then take the Talimena Drive into Mena, AR. So that's what we did.

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The same valley from the opposite end (taken from the Talimena):

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The Oklahoma part of the Talimena was a bit dicey. The road had fresh chipseal on it and they'd made sure they put a bit of extra gravel in the corners. I was glad when we hit the Arkansas line and all that business stopped.

We rolled into Hatfield just about noon, but found our lunch date had gone to a Dr.'s appointment in Hot Springs instead. The nerve of the guy. So we had lunch at Vicki's Cafe, then headed for Lake De Gray, taking 8 from Mena to Glenwood, then working our way east to the lake.

The lodge, where the meetings were held, was very nice and had great views of the lake.

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There was a pretty good turnout for the evening's meeting.

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Main speaker was John Ogden, Jr., son of John Ogden, current president of CMA. John, Jr. is also the Regional Evangelist for a multi-state region, including Arkansas and Texas. John, Jr. had been in a pretty serious bike wreck several weeks earlier, trashing his dual-Sportster and putting his head through a van window driven by a little old lady. He didn't remember anything about the wreck, but was making a miraculous recovery.

Earlier, I told Dale I wanted him to take a picture of me and John, Jr. with our arms around each others shoulders so I could tell people, "John and I had a difference of opinion, but he eventually came around to my way of thinking." However, when we saw John, he didn't have the black eyes and cantaloupe nose that I expected to see, so I told Dale to skip the picture.

The week before, a week after the wreck, he'd spoken at the Kansas state rally (also part of his territory). John is definitely a hardcore biker. I took a picture of him and his wife, Holly, but it came out pretty blurry.

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We spent the night at a hotel in Arkadelphia, then went to the first hour of the next day's meeting before heading out. I'd spoken with Lee and Mary Jo, the racers in the blue Corvette from the BBORR, who happen to live just north of Hatfield. I took several wrong turns on our way back, found out all roads in western Arkansas go through De Queen, and finally made it to their place. They had a sign on the highway directing me in. They should've put up the signs starting about 80 miles earlier.

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Lee and Mary Jo showed us the lake and pavilion they have on their property, then we rode into Mena with them for a good lunch.

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They're both former teachers from the Corpus Christi area, Mary Jo at Tuloso-Midway and Lee an instructor at Del Mar. The 71 on the car was Lee's age when he began racing it a few years ago.

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They had their RV parked outside, waiting for their retirement.

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Then it was time to head home. We stopped at the CMA headquarters to take a couple pictures on our way by, then headed on south till we picked up I-30, then US-259 again to take us into Longview.

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I also took a shot going past the Lone Star Steel plant. I thought the big banner was a bit ironic, considering the shape the plant was in. It says, "Made in America with American and Texas Pride." The place is just about shut down, but still turning out steel pipe for the oilfield.

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Back in Longview, we checked into the hotel again, then looked up some old friends of mine, Curtis and Elsie. One of their daughters was home and Curtis' mom was visiting from Arkansas. I've known Curtis since his folks moved to Honduras to be missionaries. Curtis was about 10 at the time.

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The next morning, for a change of scenery, we decided to ride US-79 going home, then south on US-77, stopping for lunch in Giddings at the Giddings Downtown Restaurant, another place I can recommend.

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It was warm, but we pressed on.

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After a stop in Cuero to visit some of Dale's family, we got back to Corpus about 5:00 in the evening. Three days plus about 4 hours, a bit more than 1500 miles of riding, a nice trip.

And that's my outings for the summer. Thanks for riding along.
 
I guess you like the Breva? Thanks for sharing! :sun:

Good guess, though I was a bit saddle sore coming home from the last ride. The thing's been reliable, gets good gas mileage, handles pretty well, has some nice luggage and can go a loooong way on a tank of gas. And you don't see them on every street corner.

Dale and I were in Port Aransas one afternoon and a guy stepped out of a tattoo parlor to admire the Breva saying, "You don't see one of those every day."

Dale pointed at me and said, "He does."
 
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