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- Joined
- Feb 18, 2007
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- 11,737
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- Location
- Lost in space
- First Name
- Ken
- Last Name
- Haley
After riding Big Bend I was jonesing for a little more desert to explore. A quick look at Google Maps showed a plethora of roads in the triangle with corners at Fort Hancock, Balmorhea, and Presidio. Maps downloaded from TxDOT showed precious few of the roads shown on Google were public. However, there was one 88-mile stretch that was dirt except a 14-mile section:
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&hl=...0.39183,-104.573364&spn=1.104019,2.559814&z=9
The north end is Chispa Road, accessible off FM-2017 three miles or so south of US-90, about 21.5 miles south of Van Horn. The south end is Pinto Canyon Road out of Ruidosa. The stretch in between is none other than the well-known, paved RM-170 that rolls from Study Butte through Terlingua, Lajitas, Big Bend Ranch State Park, Presidio, and Riudosa, to end at Candelaria. The end of the pavement at Candelaria is the south end of Chispa Road.
The May Pie Run happened to be scheduled for Fort Davis, from which a loop including Chispa and Pinto Canyon Roads could be ridden in a day, even at TW200 speeds. The longest distance between gas pumps on the loop was 202 miles, well within the range of T-dub's new 4-gallon Clarke tank. Unfortunately, there would be very litttle reserve range should one incur a wrong turn, so a viable plan for carrying extra fuel was necessary. Since the Clarke tank is plastic, and shaped differently from the stock tank, using a magnetic tank bag on the dualsport roads was not going to work. A gallon of Coleman fuel is cheaper than a gallon gas can, and comes in a steel gas can with an easy-to-pack rectangular prism shape. I dumped the Coleman fuel in the van (after all, Coleman fuel is nothing other than unleaded gasoline), rigged up some padding out of Coroplast, and two gallons of extra fuel fit neatly in the top case along with everything else I want to carry on a dualsport day ride.
Before I could leave from Fort Davis, I had to get there. I posted some questions about alternate routes where T-dub's slow highway speeds would not have me end up like a big in the grill of a semi. US-180 looked to be the shortest and easiest route, so that's what I planned.
Meanwhile, I received a private message from ptwohig asking if he could tag along. A couple messages confirmed he was a capable rider with a capable bike, and he wouldn't mind slowing down for T-dub on the highway, so I had someone to ride along. good thing, too. I don't want to ever again get tongue-lashed about riding alone by people who ride alone.
T-dub, packed and ready (?) to go at 2:00AM Thursday morning:
Eventually, 4:00 AM Thursday morning arrived. I showered and set out to gas up for the ride. T-dub sure was handling funny, and I found out why when I stopped for gas. The front axle nut was about to fall off. I had spooned on a stock front tire the night before, and in a lapse of sanity installed the axle the wrong way. No problem, though, no parts lost and easy enough to reverse the axle. T-dub rode fine after that. Next stop, meet up with ptwohig in the truck sale driveway on the southbound I-35 access road just south of Heritage Trace Parkway.
ptwohig was waiting for me, but had a little problem. Somewhere on his 50-mile ride south, his taillight disappeared. I wonder if he let Squeaky ride it or what? Anywho, I happened to have one rectangular LED submersible trailer light at my shop, so we rode over and he wasted no time bolting and wiring. Let me tell you, that's the way to go for motorcycle taillights, that thing is BRIGHT. The bulb in my right rear turn decided to pop, so I swapped it out for the third time in a week.
So, we hit the road about 6:30AM, 45 minutes later than planned, and slabbed it down to Brock Junction, about where cagers switch from city drivers to land speed record contestants. A couple FM roads led us to Mineral Wells, where we picked up US-180 and headed west. The riding was easy in the early morning, except we didn't even get through Mineral Wells before my right rear turn stopped working again.
On we go through Breckenridge, making good time. Some guy pulls up next to us at a stoplight and starts bragging on a little place just outside of town that gives a good breakfast for a cheap price. We find the place,
pull in,
and proceed to forget to take pictures as we wolfed down a great breakfast at a cheap price. Anywho, you can find the place here
.
Back on the road, we made good time until about 10:00AM, when the wind and the heat picked up. It was hot and windy enough that we had to stop about every 75 miles to refill our camelbacks, so we ended up making twice as many stops as we had planned. I found an auto parts store in Albany and replaced the turn signal bulb for the second time that day.
After Albany we began hitting cotton fields. Miles and miles of cotton fields. Unfortunately, there were no plants in the cotton fields, just a few pieces of spilled cotton. Bare soil and high winds had waves of dirt blowing across the road. I wasn't bothered except when the occasional vehicle passed and kicked the bigger chunks up off the road, but I was wearing googles and a dirt helmet. I worried for ptwohig because he was wearing a fullface with a visor. Most of the passing vehicles were oilfield trucks. There are a bazillion new pumpjacks in the cotton fields pumping their little hearts out. Lots of heavy equipment around to build new drill pads, but we only saw a few drill rigs.
I thought the end of the cotton fields would be a relief, but NOOOOOOoooo! Miles and miles of creosote-covered sand dunes. The hard parts in the atmosphere were even worse. I was beginning to feel a bit gritty. We hunkered down and headed south from Kermit, T-dub's throttle WFO for an hour at a time and speedo barely touching 60 on the downhills.
We turned south on US-285 and pressed on. We picked up TX-17 in Pecos, which would be the last leg to Fort Davis. There was a little excitment on TX-17 just before Balmorhea State Park. There is a fairly sharp bend to the right, with a speed limit of 55mph. I'm tooling along about 50mph, down on the tank against the wind, my corner line about 1/3 of the way from the centerline to the white line. About halfway through the curve a DPS car running about 90mph zooms into view, left tires well into my lane. I yanked the handlebars to the left and did the quickest swerve in my life (quick enough to slide the rear tire a bit), right up to the white line. I don't think the DPS car even wavered on its line until it was past me. I looked in the mirror and saw brake lights. This didn't look good.
Just past the curve TX-17 turns left at Toyahville. I thought about stopping, but figured the DPS officer was the one in the wrong, and I wasn't going to put up with any crap. Badge or no badge, that idiot couldn't drive and I'd make sure his boss knew all about it. I made the turn south, and I guess the DPS finally realized how stupid it would be for him to push the issue (maybe because he caught up to our "speeding" motorcycles so quickly). He went straight where we turned, and last I checked he was turning around again and heading north. I hope when he crashes he doesn't kill someone else.
The mountains blocked some of the wind, enough that T-dub could carry enough speed up the hills to make the twisties into Fort Davis worth the hot, windy trip. We wound our way to the park. This is what such ride will do to you:
Eventually, we made it to the park. Luckily, nothing fell off.
We had a little hottie drop in for a visit.
We were making camp, and she just strolled up in the middle of the commotion and plopped herself down. ptwohig strolled over to put the make on her, but she wasn't having any of that.
We rode into Fort Davis and enjoyed some fine Mexican food, arriving just before closing time. They were out of this, that, and the other by then, but they fixed us up with some fantastic grub from scratch. I don't know exactly what we ate, but it sure was good. Again, we were too hungry to remember pictures.
Back to camp, and ptwohig waited patiently for a shower. The conversation drifting from the adjacent showers was not very grown up. Neither were the sound effects. We stepped out into the cool evening to wait patiently and politely. Little did those fools know their women were standing outside the door listening to every immature phrase those guys uttered. I really didn't want to be a witness to that domestic dispute, so I decided to head back to camp and relax a while, waiting until the crowd thinned. I promptly fell asleep atop my sleeping bag.
I awoke sometime later to a small herd of javalina snuffling about our campsite. I took a couple pictures, but all that came out was a shiny green eye. I flopped back to wait out the visitors, then head up to the bath house for a shower. About that time a car pulled into the site next to us. The javalinas spooked, and one came charging through our site at a dead run. I guess that little sucker was about blind because he ran headlong into my tent, nearly collapsing it, until the springy tent poles returned the favor and flung him back like a pitchbacked baseball. The poor guy landed with a resounding thump, and last I heard he was scurrying off through the leaves behind our site.
Things grew quite except for a girl saying, "Stop feeding it, you idiot. Now it will never go away." Seriously, guys, I don't know why the girls put up with us.
Anywho, I guess javalinas sometimes just hide from a threat. I heard one sniffling around in front of my tent, and when the new arrivals' flashlight shown across our site, this particular critter decided to take up a defensive position behind my tent. The creature simply walked up to the side of the tent and plopped down. Didn't bother me none, I still had plenty of room. I watched the stars out the window a while while the neighbors got themselves situated.
Once everthing quieted, I closed my eyes and just about drifted off when, not two feet from my ear I hear a long, low, and loud SNOOOORE!
Now I know for a fact that javalinas snore. Loudly. I reached over and gave the critter a little shove. He quieted and I drifted off to sleep. All was right with the world. A while later, more SNOOOORE! SNOOOORE! SNOOOORE!. This simply wouldn't do. I rared back and gave the critter a good swift kick. He went tumbling through the dry leaves, then took off running. I could hear him bouncing off trees as he high-tailed it to safety. I'm convinced javalinas are night-blind. I kinda felt bad after rudely awakening my guest, but I got over it.
Up next: The Assault on Chispa Road.
http://maps.google.com/maps?f=d&hl=...0.39183,-104.573364&spn=1.104019,2.559814&z=9
The north end is Chispa Road, accessible off FM-2017 three miles or so south of US-90, about 21.5 miles south of Van Horn. The south end is Pinto Canyon Road out of Ruidosa. The stretch in between is none other than the well-known, paved RM-170 that rolls from Study Butte through Terlingua, Lajitas, Big Bend Ranch State Park, Presidio, and Riudosa, to end at Candelaria. The end of the pavement at Candelaria is the south end of Chispa Road.
The May Pie Run happened to be scheduled for Fort Davis, from which a loop including Chispa and Pinto Canyon Roads could be ridden in a day, even at TW200 speeds. The longest distance between gas pumps on the loop was 202 miles, well within the range of T-dub's new 4-gallon Clarke tank. Unfortunately, there would be very litttle reserve range should one incur a wrong turn, so a viable plan for carrying extra fuel was necessary. Since the Clarke tank is plastic, and shaped differently from the stock tank, using a magnetic tank bag on the dualsport roads was not going to work. A gallon of Coleman fuel is cheaper than a gallon gas can, and comes in a steel gas can with an easy-to-pack rectangular prism shape. I dumped the Coleman fuel in the van (after all, Coleman fuel is nothing other than unleaded gasoline), rigged up some padding out of Coroplast, and two gallons of extra fuel fit neatly in the top case along with everything else I want to carry on a dualsport day ride.
Before I could leave from Fort Davis, I had to get there. I posted some questions about alternate routes where T-dub's slow highway speeds would not have me end up like a big in the grill of a semi. US-180 looked to be the shortest and easiest route, so that's what I planned.
Meanwhile, I received a private message from ptwohig asking if he could tag along. A couple messages confirmed he was a capable rider with a capable bike, and he wouldn't mind slowing down for T-dub on the highway, so I had someone to ride along. good thing, too. I don't want to ever again get tongue-lashed about riding alone by people who ride alone.
T-dub, packed and ready (?) to go at 2:00AM Thursday morning:
Eventually, 4:00 AM Thursday morning arrived. I showered and set out to gas up for the ride. T-dub sure was handling funny, and I found out why when I stopped for gas. The front axle nut was about to fall off. I had spooned on a stock front tire the night before, and in a lapse of sanity installed the axle the wrong way. No problem, though, no parts lost and easy enough to reverse the axle. T-dub rode fine after that. Next stop, meet up with ptwohig in the truck sale driveway on the southbound I-35 access road just south of Heritage Trace Parkway.
ptwohig was waiting for me, but had a little problem. Somewhere on his 50-mile ride south, his taillight disappeared. I wonder if he let Squeaky ride it or what? Anywho, I happened to have one rectangular LED submersible trailer light at my shop, so we rode over and he wasted no time bolting and wiring. Let me tell you, that's the way to go for motorcycle taillights, that thing is BRIGHT. The bulb in my right rear turn decided to pop, so I swapped it out for the third time in a week.
So, we hit the road about 6:30AM, 45 minutes later than planned, and slabbed it down to Brock Junction, about where cagers switch from city drivers to land speed record contestants. A couple FM roads led us to Mineral Wells, where we picked up US-180 and headed west. The riding was easy in the early morning, except we didn't even get through Mineral Wells before my right rear turn stopped working again.
On we go through Breckenridge, making good time. Some guy pulls up next to us at a stoplight and starts bragging on a little place just outside of town that gives a good breakfast for a cheap price. We find the place,
pull in,
and proceed to forget to take pictures as we wolfed down a great breakfast at a cheap price. Anywho, you can find the place here
Back on the road, we made good time until about 10:00AM, when the wind and the heat picked up. It was hot and windy enough that we had to stop about every 75 miles to refill our camelbacks, so we ended up making twice as many stops as we had planned. I found an auto parts store in Albany and replaced the turn signal bulb for the second time that day.
After Albany we began hitting cotton fields. Miles and miles of cotton fields. Unfortunately, there were no plants in the cotton fields, just a few pieces of spilled cotton. Bare soil and high winds had waves of dirt blowing across the road. I wasn't bothered except when the occasional vehicle passed and kicked the bigger chunks up off the road, but I was wearing googles and a dirt helmet. I worried for ptwohig because he was wearing a fullface with a visor. Most of the passing vehicles were oilfield trucks. There are a bazillion new pumpjacks in the cotton fields pumping their little hearts out. Lots of heavy equipment around to build new drill pads, but we only saw a few drill rigs.
I thought the end of the cotton fields would be a relief, but NOOOOOOoooo! Miles and miles of creosote-covered sand dunes. The hard parts in the atmosphere were even worse. I was beginning to feel a bit gritty. We hunkered down and headed south from Kermit, T-dub's throttle WFO for an hour at a time and speedo barely touching 60 on the downhills.
We turned south on US-285 and pressed on. We picked up TX-17 in Pecos, which would be the last leg to Fort Davis. There was a little excitment on TX-17 just before Balmorhea State Park. There is a fairly sharp bend to the right, with a speed limit of 55mph. I'm tooling along about 50mph, down on the tank against the wind, my corner line about 1/3 of the way from the centerline to the white line. About halfway through the curve a DPS car running about 90mph zooms into view, left tires well into my lane. I yanked the handlebars to the left and did the quickest swerve in my life (quick enough to slide the rear tire a bit), right up to the white line. I don't think the DPS car even wavered on its line until it was past me. I looked in the mirror and saw brake lights. This didn't look good.
Just past the curve TX-17 turns left at Toyahville. I thought about stopping, but figured the DPS officer was the one in the wrong, and I wasn't going to put up with any crap. Badge or no badge, that idiot couldn't drive and I'd make sure his boss knew all about it. I made the turn south, and I guess the DPS finally realized how stupid it would be for him to push the issue (maybe because he caught up to our "speeding" motorcycles so quickly). He went straight where we turned, and last I checked he was turning around again and heading north. I hope when he crashes he doesn't kill someone else.
The mountains blocked some of the wind, enough that T-dub could carry enough speed up the hills to make the twisties into Fort Davis worth the hot, windy trip. We wound our way to the park. This is what such ride will do to you:
Eventually, we made it to the park. Luckily, nothing fell off.
We had a little hottie drop in for a visit.
We were making camp, and she just strolled up in the middle of the commotion and plopped herself down. ptwohig strolled over to put the make on her, but she wasn't having any of that.
We rode into Fort Davis and enjoyed some fine Mexican food, arriving just before closing time. They were out of this, that, and the other by then, but they fixed us up with some fantastic grub from scratch. I don't know exactly what we ate, but it sure was good. Again, we were too hungry to remember pictures.
Back to camp, and ptwohig waited patiently for a shower. The conversation drifting from the adjacent showers was not very grown up. Neither were the sound effects. We stepped out into the cool evening to wait patiently and politely. Little did those fools know their women were standing outside the door listening to every immature phrase those guys uttered. I really didn't want to be a witness to that domestic dispute, so I decided to head back to camp and relax a while, waiting until the crowd thinned. I promptly fell asleep atop my sleeping bag.
I awoke sometime later to a small herd of javalina snuffling about our campsite. I took a couple pictures, but all that came out was a shiny green eye. I flopped back to wait out the visitors, then head up to the bath house for a shower. About that time a car pulled into the site next to us. The javalinas spooked, and one came charging through our site at a dead run. I guess that little sucker was about blind because he ran headlong into my tent, nearly collapsing it, until the springy tent poles returned the favor and flung him back like a pitchbacked baseball. The poor guy landed with a resounding thump, and last I heard he was scurrying off through the leaves behind our site.
Things grew quite except for a girl saying, "Stop feeding it, you idiot. Now it will never go away." Seriously, guys, I don't know why the girls put up with us.
Anywho, I guess javalinas sometimes just hide from a threat. I heard one sniffling around in front of my tent, and when the new arrivals' flashlight shown across our site, this particular critter decided to take up a defensive position behind my tent. The creature simply walked up to the side of the tent and plopped down. Didn't bother me none, I still had plenty of room. I watched the stars out the window a while while the neighbors got themselves situated.
Once everthing quieted, I closed my eyes and just about drifted off when, not two feet from my ear I hear a long, low, and loud SNOOOORE!
Now I know for a fact that javalinas snore. Loudly. I reached over and gave the critter a little shove. He quieted and I drifted off to sleep. All was right with the world. A while later, more SNOOOORE! SNOOOORE! SNOOOORE!. This simply wouldn't do. I rared back and gave the critter a good swift kick. He went tumbling through the dry leaves, then took off running. I could hear him bouncing off trees as he high-tailed it to safety. I'm convinced javalinas are night-blind. I kinda felt bad after rudely awakening my guest, but I got over it. Up next: The Assault on Chispa Road.
... the place he ate ...
What's with that? 
Thanks for sharing. My bro and I started talking about our summer trip a couple weeks ago and Big Bend/Davis Mountains came up. I think you just hammered in the last nail!