Re: Nueces Canyon Adventure ride 3, "New Bill BBR" January 29 & 30, 2011 ride report
HONESTLY....I had every intention of throwing in with a group and riding the Nueces Canyon ride. Left the house at 5:30 (it's still seriously dark then) and headed south by southwest to historic Castroville. Most reasonable folks were still fast asleep so I made really great time and decided to stop for a bite. Should have passed on that second plate of IHOP, though. Just because it's an "all-you-can-eat" doesn't mean you have to.
Sailed over the old rio Medina through town headed out to Sander's place. Saw a big line of pigs lined up outside the taco-r-us shop and several anxious riders as I went by. Had to go unload the bike, gear up and beat it on back into town, quick. Seems like it took -f o r e v e r- to get rolling but finally off to join the group. Figured they'd be staggering out smaller groups for a while anyway.
Back at taco grande, not a pig in sight. They'd all vanished, gone, disappeared, no longer there. Oh well...no problema...have the route on Carmen the Garmin so I'll just ride quick like a bunny and catch up with them. Everybody always stops after a little bit to tighten down the straps, right? The route started along cypress lined banks of the old Medina river. Some of that stuff runs in my blood. Then out among the rich farmland and vegetable fields of the winter garden. They're harvesting red cabbage now and it must be migration time for big gray cranes. Huge flocks of the things in all directions.
Still no bikes. Wow! These folks must be really fast. I've been on the throttle for a long time and there ain't a bike anywhere to be seen. Surely that coffee is bound to catch up with them sometime. And it's cold out here too. Speaking of all that coffee...
Wheeled on into Sabinal...still no bikes, no riders, no one. A church group was having a bake sale on the corner so went over and asked if a bunch of noisy motorcycles had gone by this morning. A beautiful older hispanic lady assured me they hadn't. I love the traditional families of south Texas. A certain friendliness, honor, pride and dignity in these people that stands out in today's world.
Downtown Sabinal is historically neat. They've maintained the spirit and architecture of old west Texas. Found this wait station so...I waited...and waited...and waited some more. But, there were some interesting things...
See, it really is a wait station.
Found a window to the past.
After a while I heard that lovely low rumble of bikes in the distance!
Sure enough, in contrast to the old stage coach line coming through town, the first group had arrived. They said the group had gone to the ridge before taking to the trail. I wasn't behind everyone...figures. They asked if I'd like to join in with them and they'd wait up ahead for me. I told them to go ahead...I'd catch up. Rolling out of town, Carmen took a wrong turn that put me just far enough behind the group that I didn't catch up for quite a while. Those guys sure ride fast.
Bit of pavement before finding some dirt. Kept hoping those clouds would part and let some warm sunshine in.
Got hungry so started looking for a place to sit back and have some lunch. Nice stream side spot. Figured a group would come by sooner or later that I could join up with.
Found co. rd 408 and Tularosa. These were a couple of out-n-backs. Nice trails. Finally gave up on the sun and stopped to put on some more clothes. Figured a big group was sure to catch up with me while standing around buck naked out in the middle of no where. No bikes showed up but some locals came over to giggle at this shivering disrobed curiosity.
This old gal could use some groceries...or some relief.
Just got back underway when, ZOOM...ZOOM...ZOOOOM...three bikes blast right past me. It was the first group again and these boys were throwin the coal to those bikes. I fell in line and rode along until the bike in front of me suddenly swung to the ditch.
Everyone dutifully stops. Seems the dude was conducting some applied research on just how far a WR450 can go on one tank of gas. I think he was bout ready to publish his results, too. After laying the Yamer over on it's side, we're back on black...for maybe another mile or two.
Back in the ditch...horizontal...shake the bike while chanting mogas ritualistic plea to the petroleum deities. (shouldn't be repeated here) After that we all limped into Bracketville and find GAS! The WR had no liquid in it's clear little fuel line. I think it sucked the fumes right out of that tank. That's close enough!
Most of the group had accommodations at the Fort Clark Inn. Nice looking place. I stood around the check-in flurry and visited with them a bit. I asked what time they planned to leave in the morning. Pretty early. They were from Houston and needed to roll fast to get back. It was still pretty early so I decided to head on up the trail a piece further. Figured I'd catch up with them as they went by the next morning.
Rolled into camp and started setting up. This was my first experience in motorcycle camping. Sure beats carrying stuff on my back.
I've humped backpacks all over the US...that's been a while ago. These new generation tents and inflatable pads are technological magic...wish they'd been around back when.
Went out to see what I could see.
Beautiful little berries. We call these cedar trees. They're not but that's what we call em. When these little gems start popping - and they literally do - it brings untold misery on the masses each season. Sure pretty to look at, though.
The hill country has lots of caves. Back in ancient times our Explorer post used to go spelunking. We'd have jumped down this one so fast we'd have bounced.
Just about sunset - clearing began to the west.
The Allmighty can put on one heck of a show sometimes.
Tummy started rumbling again so it must be time to mozy back to camp and see what's fer supper.
This little thing is like your own personal GE gas turbine. It plain gets it!
After a spectacular sunset, things started getting down right chilly as night set in. Clear sky you know. Time to spark up the furnace.
Dryer lint mixed with a dab of petroleum jelly in a baggie is hard to beat.
Oh alright! It IS cheating... What'd you expect...banging rocks together for a spark?
Now, a word about quiet. This place is. Not some sort of low level background noise "quiet." I mean the profound total absence of any sound whatsoever. The kind that makes the noise of blood rushing through your ears loud. No bugs, no birds, no engines, no sirens, no aircraft...uncanny deafening silence. Takes some getting used to.
The horizon to horizon stars were indescribable. I won't even try. I wanted to take a picture but I guess they were just too far away.
I tell you, the Allmighty can humble all.
Snuggling down in a warm sleeping bag...finally, some sounds. Crickets chirping in the distance. It's still so quiet that I hear puffing sounds of the fire's dying flames...soft and rhythmic. Time to call it a day on this leg of the Nueces Canyon ride.
Tomorrow, DAY TWO. Let the dirtiness begin in earnest.