And now we get down to the meat of the trip...
Thursday morning comes along dull and entirely too early. Will takes off for work as I get the last bits packed and ready to roll. Here is what it looks like outside...
Moments after taking this picture the rain starts coming down
I had hoped to avoid needing the rain gear today as it is a bit warm with it in the suit. No dice. I head inside for a few minutes to put in the liners. It's about 8:20am and I was hoping to get away by 8:00. I am headed to Leakey to meet up with Bill "wasabi" and Chris "dirtbomb". I told them I'd be there at noon, but with this weather that is looking to be a challenge.
I head West out of town on FM 1431 towards Marble Falls. The traffic is pretty heavy. As I lean in and out of the nice curves, I silently mourn the certain and inevitable loss of a great riding road. The sprawl of urbanization is steadily marching West consuming more and more of the fun parts of the road. Even when I get out of the sprawl, there is still so much traffic that I am stuck behind several cars and trucks, putting along at a snails pace. Worse yet, in many places they are now widening and straightening the road to accommodate the heavy load of traffic. At least I had the chance to really enjoy the road in years past before all this got really bad!
I had planned a route to Leakey with some fun DS roads in the mix. Given the iffy weather, the fact that I am riding alone, and my dumb luck, I opt for sticking to the highways. A quick stop for gas in Fredericksburg gives me the chance to touch base with Wasabi. It looks like I am on track to hit Leakey right at noon. The bad news is that because of fighting this unreal headwind I am only getting about 32 mpg!! This is the first chance I have had to really check the mpg on the bike since putting the stock jetting back in the carb. So I am hoping it is just the wind causing the bad mpg numbers. Otherwise, things could get interesting out in the middle of the Mexican desert...
I head West out of Fredericksburg on FM 2093, hang a left on White Oak Rd., which is a great narrow and mostly paved little road. I am trying to skirt North of the serious twisties like 337 and just drop down into Leakey from Hwy 41. I've got the GPS making up routes on the fly. Never trust the GPS 100%... I find a few roads that go nowhere or dead end into locked gates and have to so some minor backtracking. Eventually, I find FM 783 and Klein Rd., that cuts over to FM 479 and I drop down to I-10 for a mile or so and then the start of Hwy 41. I run out to US 83 with the throttle pinned. I'd like you to think I was flying down the road... Well... For a packed KLR I was flying
I head South on 83 and make the last run for town. The rain has let up and the road is mostly dry. This turns out to be a good thing because they are doing a lot of construction on 83 North of Leakey and there is a LOT of dirt on the road that would have been slick mud!
I roll into Leakey right at noon. We are planning to meet at the Frio Canyon Motorcycle Stop right there at the intersection of FM 337 and US 83. When I get there I find big signs saying, "We've Moved!" Hmmm... Well, Bill and Chris can read so I just head to the new location about a 1/4 mile West of town on 337.
Looking at the clouds, it seems obvious the rain is not yet done with me for the day...
No sign of Bill and Chris and I can't raise them on their cell phones. So I hang out and take a few pics, scoping out the new location.
The great view off the back porch
The new place is about 6000 square feet. The front section is a very nice store. The back section is for the parties. They have an area for a stage for the live music. There are three LARGE doors that raise up to open the back side to the great views. They are not finished with it yet, but it is looking great!
Here's the owner having lunch. For some reason I can never remember his name
Real nice guy though.
While hanging out, I run into a few GS riders. Seems there is some kind of BMW event being held nearby. The paint job on this one really caught my eye! It belongs to a nice couple from San Antonio. I think his name was Rico and I totally forgot hers...
Have I mentioned how bad I am with names? I'll remember your bike no problem though
While waiting, the rain kicks up again, HARD. Man I hope this is not what we are in for all weekend! I like adventure, but miles and miles of mud is not exactly my idea of a good time... My phone finally rings and it is Bill wanting to know where I am. I inform him that I have been sitting here at the bike stop for the last thirty minutes. Seems they did not even get my messages on their cell phones. They have just been sitting around waiting for me to call them
They are packed and ready to roll so they head straight over. A few minutes later they show up and we get this show on the road. It starts raining again...
It is still early in the day and they are up for some exploring. Richard had told us about the route that cuts over from Hwy 55 outside of Campwood to FM 674. While poking around on the GPS, Google Maps, and some of my other maps, I spot a few other potential routes that might cut across. Bill and Chris are up for an attempt, so after getting gas in Campwood, we head West out of town on River Rd.
It does not take long to figure out the maps were wrong and we backtrack to town. Okay... so we'll try part of the route Richard told us about
So we head up Hwy 55 to the start of Cedar Creek Rd., also called White Mountain Rd., on some maps. This road gets fun in short order!
Chris contemplating his route across...
Making it look easy...
I would have died laughing if he had dropped it right here
Cedar Creek is a fantastic DS road. It is very scenic. There is only one real downside...
Getting swatted off your bike by a bump gate!
This trip is all about rules and guidelines. Some are hard and fast, others are flexible. It is a good guideline that you might want to wait and bump the gate yourself instead of trying to get through on the bump from the bike in front of you. Sometimes it works... sometimes it doesn't! The good news is that the bike is mostly okay and still rideable, and more importantly, Bill is fine.
Chris's "lightly" loaded down KLR
The results of attending BumpGate University, better known as the School of Hard Knocks!
With Bill back on two wheels, we deviate from Richard's route. At this intersection, he cut North, we are going to cut to the Southwest. The problem with the GPS is you never know if the road is really there, or if it is there, if it is private or open to the public. We do about 8 miles of great road, cross through someones yard and a few more gates, and eventually reach a BIG locked gate
The aggravating thing is that according to the GPS, we are
really close to connecting to the next "major" road that would complete the route. So close and yet denied
We turn around and backtrack to the Bump Gate U campus and resume Richard's route. Annoying that we could not find another way, but now we know
We head off to the North. The ground around the road is incredibly rocky, with baby head boulders laying everywhere. There are also a mess load of bump gates, but fortunately a lot of them are tied open! On my maps, this section of road shows as being both Cedar Creek Rd., and White Mountain Rd. Then White Mountain turns back to the Northeast and Cedar Creek breaks off directly to the West. The road is so much fun I forget to look at the GPS. The next time I look down, I realize we missed the turn for Cedar Creek, but I don't recall seeing a road anywhere
So we turn around and I carefully watch the GPS... We pass the road on the screen but I still didn't see a road! So we turn around and I look reeeeeal carefully... and find a road
See it?
"Dude... are you SURE this is the road!?
"
Chris is clearly digging this "road", which you can see behind him
"This HAS to be it, it's on the GPS!!"
And so on we press... At times, I am not sure if we are still on the road or not, but we are dead on the GPS route that shows where we should be going. In a few places the road branches and I pick the "road less traveled"... by the sheep running around everywhere
We cross some pretty good creek beds with steep rocky banks. I'm loving this road! But alas... all good things must come to an end... within sight of the goal!!
We come to yet another locked gate. As I slow to a stop, I just lose my balance and over I go
I've had enough experience with this to recognize that feeling you get when you realize the ship is going down and I just get out of the way instead of trying to fight it. I haven't seen anyone post a picture yet, so it is entirely possible this never really happened and I was just hallucinating
It is getting late in the afternoon and we are still no closer to Del Rio, our destination for the night. We decide to call it quits on the exploring and just head back to Campwood and slab it to make time before it starts getting too late. No problem. The riding out here has been superb
And so, once again, we start to backtrack.
I spotted this cool creek/cliff section on the way out and stop for a shot or two
It is a good thing I stopped. While getting back on the bike I notice that the bar end bolt holding my hand guards in place on the right grip is sticking out about an inch and a half!! Time to dig out the tools. Which brings me to another of those guidelines, pack tools where they are easily accessible!
I finally get mine out and get the bolt tightened up. While stopped a local guy in a truck pulls up to make sure everything is okay. Turns out he is new to the area and is out exploring and enjoying the natural beauty as well. Kindred spirits
We get moving again and head back for the highway. I've got the bump gate routine nailed by now and all three of us can get through on my bump. It is all about making a good first bump and then powering into the gate as it swings open to get it moving fast enough to swing wide open. If you try to just hit it and then steer away from it, it will just slap right back into you. They are heavy so this can be bad... Just ask Bill
Soon we are back on Hwy 55 heading into Campwood. We stop for gas and then head South to FM 334 and the run towards Brackettville.
We get into Del Rio in the early evening. While stopped at the Ramada, we see Richard and Jeff "Sprocket" go by with their truck and trailer. Great timing!! I leave Chris and Bill to get checked in and go find the other guys. Roger "Uncle" is already at the Days Inn where Richard is staying. Jeff and I are staying across the street at the Regency Inn, half the price of the Ramada! It ain't purdy, but it works! After we gather everyone together, we head for dinner.
Chris "Dirtbomb", Richard "Richard_" and Jeff "Sprocket"
Richard tries out his Spanish on the waitress. It leaves everyone but him totally confused
Roger "Uncle" and Bill "Wasabi"
After dinner, we load everyone into Jeff's truck and head for the border. The place to get the paperwork taken care of is open 24 hours a day. So we plan to take care of all that mess tonite so we can get an early start in the morning. Once on the Mexican side of the toll bridge we take a wrong turn and immediately get the attention of the armed guards, who start yelling and waiving their arms at us. We play the clueless gringo card and all is well
Richard directs us to the office where we get our Tourista Visas. The place is dead, which is a good thing, because it is painfully slow even though it is just us trying to get our paperwork in order. I cannot imagine the nightmare it would be on a busy Friday morning! Passports stamped and visas in hand, we head over to another building to get our vehicle permits.
The lobby area where you wait in line for your turn at the window is tiny. With just the six of us, it feels crowded. I can't imagine what a mad house it will be tomorrow morning!? The young lady behind the window is very friendly, but she claims not to speak a lick of English even though she laughs at some of our Tom foolery
Fortunately, she can somewhat make sense of Richard's Spanish so all is not lost! After several minutes of confusion, we finally get her to tell us that we need to have a photocopy of our drivers license, our vehicle registration, and our passport. Of course she has no photocopier but the nice guy across the street in the visa office does
So back across the street we go. Again I am grateful we don't have to wait in line. The guy behind the window informs us it will be $5 American for the copies!! Nothing to do but pay! When he returns, after the first two guys pay, he says, "No more, is enough" and sticks the $10 in his pocket... Okay... So the guy is just working on his Pension Fund
Back across the street we go with fresh copies in hand...
Back in the vehicle permit office, we start the routine over with the nice lady behind the window. Richard translates and everyone gets everything ready in hopes of speeding up the process. I guess we should just realize that where to governments come together, mindless slow bureaucracy abounds. It does not have to make sense. It does not have to be efficient or convenient. It simply is for its own sake. As each of us comes to the window, she acts as if everything is totally new. "Riding motorcycle?" "Destination?" "How long?" I'd have thought that by the 6th person she might have seen a trend...
We all eventually get what we need to be legitimate and load up in the truck to head back across the border to Del Rio. It is pushing midnight.
The only bad thing is that we are not able to change any of our greenbacks into Pesos. All the money exchangers are closed. We find out that they don't open real early either. So it looks like we won't be getting that early start anyway
Oh well, it is still good to have the paperwork stuff out of the way.
In the truck I reflect on the initial experience of having crossed the border. It is strange. Nothing changed in a physical sense. The air is the same. The dirt is the same. The border is a fictional entity with no physical reality. It is just an artificially imposed line of division. One would think with two cities being effectively one geographically, that the differences would be slight. Yet, the artificiality of the border has lead to stark contrast. There may have been no change in the physical reality, but there is a major change in the mental and economic reality. The feel changes instantly when we reach the Mexican side of the border. We are out of the familiar and have left our little bowl of water behind. Who knows what monsters lurk beyond the safety of our glass? Truly, I have felt the beginnings of being the stranger in a strange land.
We cross back to the American side without incident and head to our respective hotels. Jeff and I spend a little time just making small talk and getting to know each other a little bit, in the NON-Biblical sense
We finally drift off to hold a snoring competition. The dreams are strange and morning comes with the sound of rain...