- Joined
- Aug 31, 2007
- Messages
- 1,023
- Reaction score
- 10
- Location
- Beaumont, Texas
- First Name
- Ken
- Last Name
- Phenix
Several songs come to mind from Bob Seger, Christopher Cross, etc. My first thought was to report a failure of sorts but I decided instead to call it a learning experience and file it under the definition of adventure. The first day out, December 28, I intended to document my first Iron Butt ride to San Simon Arizona on I-10, 1,022 miles. To increase the old Bandit's range, I installed a larger front sprocket - big mistake. When my overloaded, over-geared 599cc bike hit 45mph headwinds west of San Antonio, the mileage plummeted. I actually ran out of gas at 90 miles! Dejected around the 600 mile mark, still clinging to the will to continue, I called the end witness I had arranged, a Cochise County deputy Sheriff only to find her off duty and unavailable. DANG! I was so amped about making the ride I didn't even notice how extreme the wind was. I had made good time to that point but I had to face the fact that my Saddlesore 1000 would not happen this day on this motorcycle in this wind. The second day was to be a date with US191, The Devil's Spine ascending to Alpine, Az at 9,000 feet with four point something turns per mile all the way. The 3rd day, weather permitting, would have been to the Grand Canyon. You get the idea. In that instant my trip plan was cut in half. I turned south to Davis Mountains State park and set camp.
The next morning I rode to the lodge for breakfast.
Still feeling down, a lady ranger greeted me saying, "You know you're in motorcycle heaven here." She flipped my paper place mat over and drew me a map of all the roads I had to ride. Changed my whole outlook, made my day, she did. I took her advice.
I paused for lunch in Marfa. Here's the courthouse.
Having completed my prescribed route, and then some, I returned to Indian Lodge the next morning to give my report to the ranger.
Time to break camp and fight the wind again, south this time.
Southwest Texas is vast. The west wind was so strong I felt like I was riding on the chicken strips going straight.
Then I came upon a welcomed sight. There in the middle of nowhere I spotted the Adobe with that red water tank where two great riders reside.
I had a very enjoyable visit with Paul and Voni and was given the privilege of signing the fridge - in red of course.
The next morning I rode to the lodge for breakfast.
Still feeling down, a lady ranger greeted me saying, "You know you're in motorcycle heaven here." She flipped my paper place mat over and drew me a map of all the roads I had to ride. Changed my whole outlook, made my day, she did. I took her advice.
I paused for lunch in Marfa. Here's the courthouse.
Having completed my prescribed route, and then some, I returned to Indian Lodge the next morning to give my report to the ranger.
Time to break camp and fight the wind again, south this time.
Southwest Texas is vast. The west wind was so strong I felt like I was riding on the chicken strips going straight.
Then I came upon a welcomed sight. There in the middle of nowhere I spotted the Adobe with that red water tank where two great riders reside.
I had a very enjoyable visit with Paul and Voni and was given the privilege of signing the fridge - in red of course.