Twisted Christmas Ride Report

Getting Ready

There are two things that you need in order to get away for a few days on a ride.  Time and money.  It just so happens that the wonderful people of Faith Lutheran Church are very generous with their staff at Christmas – and, in return for all of the extra work that the holidays entail, the staff gets the days off between Christmas and New Year’s.  That, plus the fact that Kelley has a bunch of work to do, is the perfect storm for a long ride.

Once I realized that I would have several days to play with, the fun began with dreaming about where I want to go.  It is December so the riding needs to stay in the south.  I thought about just heading west but there will be snow in New Mexico.  East, there will certainly be rain much of the way.  So South Central Texas it would be.

At first I thought I might do what I never do….just head out and follow roads.  I know that sounds romantic and there are people who do that but it just isn’t my style.  The more I thought about it, the more I realized again that I like to have a plan.  I also like to have something of a challenge.  Planning the ride is part of the fun of the ride for me.  It all starts by looking at a map.  And there they were, staring right up at me…

The Three Twisted Sisters (RR 335, RR 336, and RR 337) are one of the premier rides in Texas.  As I learned after several years in Texas, state roads east of I-35 are designated FM (as in Farm to Market roads) and west of RR (as in Ranch Road.)  I’ve ridden them before but they are well worth doing again.  And there are several other great roads in that part of the state so I plan on hitting them too.

Once I know where I want to go, I make a route sheet.  This ultimately gets printed on heavy card stock and sits in a plastic window on my tank bag.  I can see it the whole trip.  From the time I leave, I don’t have to think about where I’m going.  I can just enjoy the ride.  Here’s the route sheet for the Twisted Christmas ride.

If I have time and the weather looks good, I might head over to Big Bend National Park.  I love to ride TO Big Bend but I am tired of riding THROUGH Big Bend. If you enter the park south of Marathon, TX, you immediately discover that the speed limit on the park road is 45 MPH.  After flying down the huge sweeps at 80 MPH, the park road is a killer.  Plus, the camp store is about 28 miles into the park.  So I actually ride around Big Bend when I go down there…and I will…if I have time.

My bike now has over 60,000 miles on it but it is a trooper.  I got a fresh 5,000 mile service done a week before Christmas, thanks to the guys at Katy Custom Cycles.  I still have some tread on the tires so I’m ready to go.

The I-10 Parking Lot

At some point I decided to leave on Saturday morning.  I say “at some point” because much of the fun of this ride is that I don’t have any hard limits.  I’m not in a hurry.  I don’t have anything to worry about.  So I enjoyed a relaxing day after Christmas.  I diddled around on Saturday morning, had to run to church for a bit, then realized that I had forgotten something at home…so I didn’t really leave until about 11:00 AM.

It was a gray day so I left the house wearing my rain pants.  It was also a bit chilly so I dressed with my warm stuff on.  Boots, heavy DriMax socks, LD Comfort long johns, jeans, LD Comfort turtleneck, leather vest, leather jacket, leather gloves, fleece helmet liner, and full flip face helmet.  In my left saddle bag I carry a tool kit, tire repair kit, rain jacket, snowmobile gloves and snowmobile mittens.  (I hate cold hands.)  In my right saddle bag I had my warmest Harley coat.

My tank bag was filled with 100 oz. of ice water, some power bars, three apples, two iPods, and a jackknife.  I bring a Harley duffle bag that sits on the seat behind me as a backrest.  That holds toiletries, my C-Pap machine, and just enough extra clothes to make a comfortable backrest.  This time that means a sweater, an extra LD Comfort shirt, sweatpants and shorts for at night in the motel, and sandals.

And then in the back trunk I have my Go Pro camera, a brief case with iPad and computer, all the charging cables, and extra gloves and glasses.

I really DO travel light.  I don’t even bring an extra pair of jeans or socks.  Or a razor, brush, or hair gel.  I can get from my bike to my motel room in one trip that takes less than a minute to unpack my bike.

Locked, Loaded, and Ready to Go

So I hit the road and almost immediately hit the traffic jam.  Followed by the rain that began falling less than 10 miles from home.  Let’s just cut to the chase and admit that it took over 2 hours to ride 60 miles.  I’ll tell you that it is frustrating to be sitting dead still on the fast lane of I-10 when you are miles out in the middle of nowhere.  Eventually the traffic thinned out a bit but it was a bear all the way to San Antonio.

Here is a frustration for you.  You’re out in the middle of nowhere and suddenly both lanes of traffic almost come to a stand still.  There is no reason for it.  No accidents.  No state trooper speed traps.  Nothing.  Eventually you discover the culprit.  Some jerk in a Honda Civic going 45 MPH in the fast lane, refusing to move over, which backs everyone up and forces everyone to pass him on the right.

Over and over that happened.  Which made me wonder about self-awareness.  I think I have a lot of self-awareness when I’m on the road.  I pay attention.  I drive at the speed of traffic, more or less, usually about speed limit +4.  I pass on the left and move to the right.  I speed up when I go around trucks if I see that my passing them is going to interfere with them moving to the left to get around that jerk in the Honda.  I honestly don’t understand what goes on in the minds of some people in cars.

I usually stop at Buck-ees on the way to San Antonio but the constant traffic assured me that that place would be a zoo so I passed on by and thought I could make it to Seguin.  I have never run out of gas on a motorcycle (knock on wood) but sometimes I get close.  Count this as another one of those times.  I forgot about the 18 miles I rode around town before I actually left…and the effects on gas mileage of constantly starting and stopping and speeding up and slowing down.  But all of that came back to mind when the fuel warning light came on 30 miles before the gas station.  But I made it.  Lesson relearned.

The one thing that I wanted for Christmas but didn’t actually ask for was a set of replacement radio antennae’s for my bike.  I have the long ones, I want the short ones.  So that, of course, meant a stop at the Harley dealership in San Antonio.  When you’re heading west on I-10 with plans to stay on US 90, the dealership couldn’t be more convenient.  But I get messed up every time I go there.  This time I took the wrong exit but eventually I figured it out and got there.

They had what I wanted…plus a 3XL sweater that I liked (4XLT would have been better but rare are the stores that stock clothing for fully developed people), and a guy who shined my boots for $5.  I gave him $10 for my size 15’s.  The only bad thing about the stop was they were out of coffee in the customer waiting lounge.

Since I wasn’t in a hurry and I didn’t want to ride in the dark, I called ahead and reserved a room at the Best Western in Hondo.  You just have to love that name, Hondo, TX.  It’s like Scarletti, New Jersey or Flat City, North Dakota.  (I doubt either town exists but it ought to.)

Just before the motel I spotted a steakhouse on the left.  So I dropped off my stuff and rode back to waste my money on a meal that was a serious disappointment.  So much for that.  Then back to my room to read more free crime novels – my latest obsession once I discovered how many free books you can download into iBook.  Day one complete.  And since I’m not in a hurry and don’t really care, I didn’t even write down the mileage.

The Twisted Sisters

I woke up Sunday morning to cold, wind, and rain.  It was pouring outside.  So I did the motel breakfast thing, and worked on finishing another novel.  At 9:00 AM I dialed in to Faith Lutheran Church to watch The Gathering service online.  Do I even have to mention how cool that is?  Clayton was creative with the music; Pastor Tan’s sermon was excellent; and I signed off when they got to Holy Communion.  It was time to ride.

I stayed west on US 90 and the weather cooperated by staying dry.  I looked up and to the north and I could see that it was possible that the sun might pay a visit.  I decided that would not be too much to ask for so I asked for it.

Other than beautiful scenery, dry twisty roads, and gas in the nick of time, I have a tiny little list of things that I have to see on this trip.  First up is the golf course that inspired the book Golf’s Sacred Journey: Seven Days at the Links in Utopia.  I love that book and absolutely loathed the movie. So, when I got to Sabinal, I took a right on RR 187 to Utopia.

That done I took a left on RR 1050 to go to Leakey.  Right about then the sun came out and it was gorgeous.  I stopped on the side of the road to mount the Go Pro and made my first music video of the day.  I chose Hal Ketchum because Kelley loves him and she took me to see him for my birthday at Gruene Hall. Now THAT is a Texas birthday.

Enjoy the hills west of Utopia as Hal and I rode along Hwy 1050.



There is no particularly right way to ride the Twisted Sisters so I just started in Leakey.  I took a left on RR 336 and away I went.  Up, down, sharp curves (usually referred to as twisties), big sweepers, and beautiful views.  I was so into it that I forgot all about the camera.  I got to 41 and headed west to the second sister.

Left on RR 335 and I was on my way to Barksdale.  This time I did take some video of the ride.



I picked up Hwy 55 in Barksdale to Camp Wood and stopped to check in with Kelley and get a cup of coffee and some gas.  I have this great travel mug that has a special holster on the bike so I can actually drink coffee while I ride but sometimes even I am willing to stop for a few minutes.  Then I headed east on RR 337 to Medina.

RR 337 runs right past the Frio Canyon Motorcycle Stop just as you come into Leakey.  I didn’t want to stop, I actually rode right by, but I noticed that they didn’t have a single bike in the parking lot and I felt sorry for them.  So I turned around and dropped in.  I cut through the gift shop without even looking at anything.  I got a shirt there last time so I’ve done my part.  This time I just cut through to the Bent Rim Grill for an Ultra Burger and a Shiner Bock.

It was a little too chilly to eat outside but I did take a picture from their deck.

RR 337 is also a gorgeous road.  I wish it was closer to Houston but such is life.



The next thing I knew I was in Medina and turning left on Hwy 16 to Kerrville.  I don’t know why I don’t love Kerrville.  I ought to.  It is a lovely town.  But I just don’t care for it much.  I stop there for gas and this time, I stopped there for the Best Western.  But I seldom look forward to doing anything in Kerrville than passing through.

Riding My Time Away

I woke up Monday morning and my first thought was that I don’t know what day it is.  I had to look at my phone.  That is a pretty good clue that you are on a great vacation.  The room came with a free breakfast so I took my sweet time getting over there and, since I had my book on my iPad and they had great coffee, I took my sweet time eating it.

The only bad thing was that I ordered #1 (eggs and sausage) because, as much as I wanted pancakes (#2, pancakes and sausage), protein is better for breakfast.  But then the waitress brought me a #2.  We argued a bit about what I really ordered.  She offered to bring me some eggs, but I didn’t want to be difficult so I just enjoyed the pancakes.  I think she felt bad because she kept refilling my coffee.  Since the breakfast was free I gave her a $10 tip.  I thought about the Bible verse about heaping burning coals on someone’s head…but I actually enjoy tipping.  Especially on a Monday morning when I sit forever in a café reading a great crime novel on my iPad.

It was crisp and cool when I loaded up and hit I-10 to ride to Junction.  I know frost on a motorcycle seat isn't that big of a deal but I've lived in Houston a long time so it is plenty enough to discourage hitting the road too early.

After the previous day’s meandering roads, it was another kind of fun to crack it up to 85 MPH on I-10.  It kind of takes your breath away when you leave Kerrville (which feels like central Texas) and then see a sign that you only have 462 miles to get to El Paso…but that’s Texas.

People say that I-10 is boring but I don’t think so at all.  Riding on any interstate highway is boring – scenic tofu – but when you set your cruise control at 85 MPH and promise yourself that you WILL NOT TOUCH IT until you get to the next gas stop, it is anything but boring.  Besides, Kerrville to Junction is beautiful.

Tragedy struck at Junction.  I took the exit for Hwy 377 South and stopped at a Pilot station for gas.  Since it has warmed up quite a bit I decided to not wear my fleece helmet liner.  Evidently I also decided not to pack the helmet liner away – I must have just left it on my bike – because it wasn’t there later in the day when I thought to look for it.  Tragic in that that is one of my favorite pieces of all purpose bike gear.  I see another excuse to stop at a Harley dealer in the near future.

Hwy 377 is a great highway.  The surface is a little rough but the views are majestic and it is a blast to sweep down into and back out of canyons.  I made some more videos.

As I got closer and closer to Rocksprings I realized that I am on a perfect motorcycle trip.  I don’t have to be back to work until Sunday.  I’m not worried about anything.  The roads are fantastic…so I decided to include Big Bend into the trip again.  But first I had to make a mistake.

This is going to sound like heresy but I’m going to say it anyway.  I don’t always bring maps on motorcycle rides.  I usually do but not always.  I didn’t this time.  I had a route card for the first couple of days but it sort of petered out in Rocksprings.  The original plan was to go through Rocksprings on 377 and then take a left on 674 to Brackettville.  I’ve never ridden that road before and I wanted to give it a try.   But I messed up and left Rocksprings on 55.

Man, I’m glad I messed up.  I’ve ridden 55 before and it is majestic.

When I got to RR 334 I took a right and cut over to Brackettville and US 90 West.  I got gas in Del Rio because that is what Del Rio is good for and then headed down another of my favorite rides in the world.  US 90 WEST.  If you have ever driven to Big Bend, you probably took US 90.  If you haven’t, you need to.  It is like riding through a Clint Eastwood spaghetti western.  Set the cruise on 80 MPH and start eating some miles up in a hurry.

One of my favorite parts is crossing the Pecos River.  You just have to do it to understand.  And then I thought about stopping again in Langtry.  I always think about stopping in Langtry.  The first time I was there I did stop.  I remember seeing the story of Judge Roy Bean on an old western reenactment show of some kind when I was a kid.  I don’t remember the series but it was sponsored by Borax of the 20 mule team fame.  So I stopped and saw the sights.  Read everything in the museum.  Got a beer at the gas station.

I stopped again the second time that I passed through.  I wouldn’t have stopped the third time but I needed gas (they don’t sell gas there anymore.)  And every other time I’ve been there, I have thought about stopping but I didn’t even slow down.  I doubt I’ll ever stop there again but I’ll think about it every time.

I got to Sanderson, TX, and stopped for the night at the Outback Oasis.

I love this place.  I got the same room as I had the last time I came through, also on a trip after Christmas.  And once again I had dinner at the Stripes Gas Station rather than Dairy King (which is the only café open on Monday nights in town.)  Kelley told me that Stripes got better reviews.  Which means that Dairy King must really suck.  More reading and then time for bed.

Prada Marfa?...Nah....

The weather forecast said that I would get one nice day before some bad weather set in and I wanted to take advantage of it.  So I woke up in Sanderson at the Outback Oasis and looked out the door to see clear skies and feel cold air.  How cold?  Well it was 34 degrees by the time I rode the 82 miles west down US 90 to Alpine.

How do you deal with cold weather on a motorcycle?  The BMW crowd buys electric suits that plug into the bike and keep them relatively toasty.  Old time biker types just stay home.  But if you really want to get where you’re going you just deal with it.  I put on all my warm stuff and headed west.

The speed limit sign said 75 MPH but that felt a bit cool to me so I just set the cruise on 70 and sat back to enjoy the sights.  I love the desert landscapes around here with the mountains in the background but I didn’t like the low hanging cloud bank that followed the distant mountain range all the way to Alpine.  That was where I planned to be.

All was well until about 10 miles before Alpine.  The temperature dropped and the fog rolled in at just about the same time.  All I could think about was breakfast at Penny’s Diner and finding a place in town to replace the helmet liner that is somewhere beside the highway in Junction.  Penny’s would be my first stop.

Penny’s is a retro 50’s looking diner of chrome and grease.  It sits next to the Oak Tree Inn as do all of the other Penny’s Diners next to all of the other Oak Tree Inns but it is still where we often eat breakfast in Alpine.  I was too cold to go any further so I crawled off the bike and headed indoors. I took a stool at the counter to leave the tables for those who traveled in packs larger than one.

I glanced at the menu and got ready to enjoy a hearty breakfast.  (Seriously, the Hearty Breakfast was #1 on the list for $8.99.  I’m on vacation so why not splurge?)  Then I waited.  I waited for a waitress to bring me a cup of coffee.  I waited some more.

There were plenty of people behind the counter.  Three waitresses, a cook, and a dishwasher.  They kept walking back and forth in front of me.  I finally asked the dishwasher if he could get a cup of coffee for me.  At that point it became a game for me and I started to keep score.  After 12 more minutes I put $2 on the counter and got ready to leave.  That was all it took for the waitress standing idly by the coffee machine (no, she never once offered a refill) to notice me and come scoop up my empty cup.

So it was that I spent 20 minutes at Penny’s Diner in Alpine, Texas, thinking about how painful it would be for someone to come by Faith Lutheran Church on a Sunday morning, feeling the brokenness of life that weighed them down as they came through the door, and then be completely ignored by the people playing church within those walls.

I left Penny’s and found the saddle shop in town where the guy once replaced the broken snaps on the leather chaps that I foolishly left home on this particular trip.  Sure enough, along with boots, ready made and custom made, saddles, and assorted leather stuff, he also stocks some helpful biker tidbits.  For $38 I bought a windstopper sleeve that was just what the doctor ordered.  Not as nice as my old balaclava but it did the trick.

The other breakfast stop in Alpine is Magoo’s so that’s where I had my disappointing breakfast which, by that time, was actually lunch.  Every once in awhile I find myself saying something off the top of my head and that makes me smile all day.  That happened as I was leaving Magoo’s.

A guy walked by me as I was standing by the bike, getting ready to leave, and he said “It’s kinda cold to be ridin’ that thang, ain’t it?”  Without missing a beat, in my best disinterested, biker growl, I answered, “Beats pushin’ it.”  It was time to head west.

The fog hit the ground as soon as I got west of Alpine.  Visibility was down to about a quarter of a mile or less.  I rode slow enough that I knew I could stop within the distance that I could see and looked forward to getting to Marfa.

I said earlier that I have a tiny list of pictures I want to capture on this trip.  The first was the golf course in Utopia.  The second was Prada Marfa.  There isn’t a third.  See, that IS a tiny list.  Except for the surprise I got about four miles outside of Marfa, I would have gotten my picture.  Suddenly the fog and the temperature both lifted at the same time.  The sky was bright and beautiful over Marfa but I was still stone cold and all I cared about getting in Marfa was gas and then getting out of Marfa to head south.

Besides, a picture of Prada Marfa would cost me about 50 extra miles since it is actually much closer to Valentine, TX, which is 25 more miles down US 90.  On a good day, I would have done it.  On a day which found me fighting fog, I gassed up at the Exxon at the intersection of US 90 and Hwy 67 and then headed south on 67 to Presidio. Here is what I missed.....

Here’s why I love the road from Marfa to Presidio.



I dropped into Presidio and once again remembered how I always forget to take that quirky little left that takes me where I want to go instead of following the main road into Mexico.  I stopped for gas where I always do and noticed the text message on my phone that informs me of the rules of international calling.  I got that strange little “Big Brother Is Watching YOU” feeling and added a cup of coffee to my tank of gas.

Suddenly I realized how white and privileged I am. I noticed it the other day when I rode through an immigration checkpoint.  It was clear to me that the officer looked at the color of my skin as he asked if I was a citizen and sent me on through without any hassles.  That feeling came again as I waited in line to pay for my coffee.  The cashier was all bright and smiles as she chatted in Spanish with everyone in line before me.  When it was my turn I was prepared to use the Spanish I know.  Even though I started with “Buenos tardes” I saw her face darken when she said “Hi, that’ll be $.99.”

I want the world to change.  What an even more wonderful world it would be if we were as focused on the content of our character rather than the color of our skin.

The idea of a “border” gets very murky down here on the border.  Like the river itself, which meanders according to its own mind and messes up those who want to regulate life, the border is amorphous.  I thought about that the whole time I rode RR 170, called aptly enough the “River Road” along the river from Presidio to Big Bend.  All the mountains and beautiful views to my right were in Mexico.

When you leave Presidio you need to put your patience cap on.  You would do that anyway because of the sharp curves, the blind hills, and the beauty of the mountains, but the speed limit is 50 MPH.  That is fine with me.  I never want to hurry through here.  Here’s what I love about that ride.



The temperature dropped again as I got to Lajitas so I just rode on until I got to Study Butte near the entrance to Big Bend.  My plan was to head north on 118 to Alpine (a wonderful ride) but I could see those same low hanging clouds heading north and I didn’t want anything to do with cold, fog, and all the curves and elevation changes on 118.  So I decided instead to head through the park.

It costs $20 to drive a car through Big Bend, $10 for a bicycle or motorcycle, but the entrance station was closed when I got there so I entered for free.  I set the cruise at 45 MPH and enjoyed the views. Except for the ominous black cloud that I was clearly riding into.



Panther Junction is a little over 20 miles into the park.  Just before the park headquarters there is the only gas station that I know of in the park.  For the first time in the trip, my debit card was declined.  I always expect that is going to happen when I’ve been away from home like this but I hate when it does.

It was dark by the time I got to the edge of the park and headed north on 385.  That too is a great road in good weather.  You can just fly down that road as the curves are all manageable at speed and there are seldom any cars.  It was about 50 miles and one quick immigration stop until I got to Marathon to head east on US 90.

Kelley later told me that she was watching my GPS dot moving and then it stopped suddenly out in the middle of nowhere between Marathon and Sanderson.  You can watch my dot on street view and see the actual topography of where I am riding.  It stopped on a curve next to a huge gully and Kelley went just a little bit crazy.  What can I say, for better or worse, she loves me.  So she called the Highway Patrol to send someone out to find me.  By the time she got the dispatcher who told her, “Don’t worry, he is just putting his boots on now and then he’ll head that way” my dot suddenly started moving again and Kelley was able to call off the dogs.

I didn’t know anything about that.  All I knew is that it was dark and bitter cold.  I set my cruise at 70 MPH, knowing I only had about 50 miles or so to get back to the Outback Oasis.  And then it started getting worse so I dialed it back to about 60 MPH.

You know it is cold when the water in the air collects on the windshield of your motorcycle and freezes solid.  Fortunately I hate looking through a windshield on a bike so I sit well above that level but that meant that ice was starting to collect on the facemask of my helmet and on my goggles.  Then it started to rain.  Not a hard rain, just an irritating drizzle that I knew was turning the road to ice.

Bob was a police officer in my first congregation.  He let me ride along with him through the night once in awhile so I could get a better sense of Houston night life from his point of view.  I quickly learned that he was a bit of a fatalist.  His line I’ll never forget is, “If its your time, its your time, and there is nothing you can do about it, so I just don’t worry about it.”

That’s how I felt about the freezing drizzle in the utter darkness of the night in the middle of nowhere riding 60 MPH on a motorcycle.  It is also how I feel about dog ditches (otherwise known as deer which clearly outnumber the human population in these parts.)

Now I realize again why I like to stay at the Outback Oasis.  That is exactly what it was for me when I crawled off my bike to pay for another night in room 7.

Here I Sit, All Brokenhearted

New Year’s Eve dawned for me with a temperature of 24 degrees that felt like 11 degrees and so much ice on the parking lot of the motel and the highway that it was hard to cross the street to the Stripes gas station for breakfast and a cup of coffee.  I’ve been getting late starts every day on this trip but today I wonder if I am going to start at all.

I called Kelley and broke the news that I might not be home for New Year’s Eve.  There are a lot of hills, curves, and bridges between Sanderson and Del Rio.  Last night brought a whole new meaning to me of the words “Bridge May Ice Over in Cold Weather” and I don’t want my GPS dot disappearing for real this time. Better safe than sorry and I don’t actually have to work again until Sunday.

I walked over to talk to some deer hunters from Louisiana in the parking lot of the motel.  They had already been out that day and bagged their 5th dog ditch of their trip.  I told them, as far as I was concerned, I hope they shoot every one.  I think they are the most dangerous animals in America.  Especially out here where you have to wonder if more deer aren’t killed by bumpers, grills, radiators, and windshields of cars and trucks than by rifles.

They also reminded me that deer love cold weather like this so they were really active this morning.  One more reason to buy another cup of coffee and let the bike rest.

My guess is that, even on a good day, most of the action in Sanderson happens at the Stripes gas station.  I visited a bit with Big Daddy WooWoo who was headed to California but wasn’t willing to leave until the temperature cleared some ice off the road.  He told me that an ambulance rolled over on 285 on the way to the hospital in Fort Stockton this morning.  Yep, let the bike rest.

But then I got shamed by a guy from Austria named Stefan.  He rented a Harley in Los Angeles with plans to ride to Miami.  He had been hoping to spend New Year’s Eve in New Orleans.  For some crazy reason, he thought it might be more fun to pick up US 90 in Van Horn instead of just staying on I-10.  I don’t know where he started to second guess that decision but I do know that he only got as far last night as Marathon.

He tried to get a motel room in Marathon.  I’ve tried that before myself.  Without reservations it just isn’t going to happen.  The Gage Hotel is booked up forever so he tried the little Mom and Pop place on the edge of town.  They didn’t have a room but the night clerk was willing to set up the tent she had in her car for him.  He said he tried that for about 30 minutes but couldn’t take it so he slept instead in her car.

I can’t make this stuff up.

I saw his little Harley Super Glide parked at the gas station so I went looking for him.  He was, to say the least, ill-prepared for the weather.  I am extremely well prepared for the weather but I don’t like riding on ice.  At least I had some hand warmer packets to share with him so I invited him back to my room to warm up a bit.

The 11:00 checkout time was fast approaching and I wasn’t ready to leave so I went in and asked if I could stay a bit longer.  Sure, all I had to do was pay for one more night.  This time my debit card was accepted so there is that to feel good about.  Not a half hour later the manager knocked on my door to tell me that all the pipes were frozen and that I wasn’t supposed to use the water.  Staying the night suddenly makes less sense.

Stefan stopped by to warm up and try out the hand warmers.  He put them in his boots instead.  Good idea.  But I gave him plenty to get through this cold snap in Texas.  He told me he works as an Arctic researcher but is now on vacation with a flight to catch in Miami on January 8th.  Quickly realizing how much wonderful cold weather gear he had also left at home helped me feel better about the leather chaps on the top shelf in our entry closet.

He headed out at noon, determined to get to San Antonio.  I thought about riding with him until I walked him back across the street to the gas station and his motorcycle. Nope, my room is paid for and he has plenty of time to get to Miami.

I decided to wait until 2:00 PM and hit the road.  The day wasn’t perfect and there was nothing to suggest that tomorrow will be any better so I thought I would just give it a try.  Even if it meant I had been wasting $20 an hour for a warm room until the roads got better. At 1:00 PM I rode across the street to fill with gas and a trucker told me that the highway to Del Rio has just been closed down 15 miles out of town due to ice on the bridges.  Cold is no problem.  Rain is no problem.  But I can’t beat ice.  So here I sit.

Kelley and I finally have figured out how to use FaceTime on this trip.  We rang in the New Year together via the internet.  After a long New Year’s Eve in Sanderson I'm ready to get home.

All Good Things

The last day of the Twisted Christmas Ride was pretty uneventful.  The last day of long rides usually are for me.  I just sit there and twist that until I’m home.  Today it meant 466 miles basically down the same road.

It was 27 degrees in Sanderson when I woke up but the road was relatively dry.  The parking lot wasn’t slippery as I crossed the highway to get some coffee at Stripes.  It was time to go.  I packed up and hit the road about 10:15 AM.

Since it was still below freezing, and since there was still plenty of moisture on the roadway, I took it slow all the way to Del Rio down US 90.  I just kept it in 4th gear, 45-50 MPH, all 120 miles.  I haven’t ridden that far that slowly since riding the Blue Ridge Parkway but I didn’t see the sense in ruining a great ride with a stupid risk.

Any thought of riding any faster, or doubts about wasting a day in Sanderson, went away as soon as I rode up on this scene.

The keys to riding a motorcycle on icy road aren’t much different than for cars or trucks… just more so.  Slow way down.  Anticipate.  Don’t accelerate or break quickly. Slow down even more for curves, hills, and especially bridges.  Sit straight up and don’t lean. Since it was a gray, foggy, overcast day, that is about all I had to concentrate on.

Besides, heading east isn’t nearly as interesting as heading west in that part of the country so I didn’t think I was missing much.

I got to Del Rio and chipped myself off the bike.  I was relieved to check the weather on my phone to see that it was a balmy 37 degrees.  That was encouraging as that, plus the time of day, lessened the chances of ice.  I had breakfast at Skillet’s and continued on US 90 toward San Antonio.

There isn’t much to say when you are riding roads you have ridden before, especially knowing that US 90 basically becomes I-10 in San Antonio.  I figured I could make it in two gas stops – Uvalde, and, because you can’t skip Buc-ee’s twice in one trip, I also stopped at Buc-ee’s near Luling.  The roads were better so I basically rode at regular speeds from Uvalde all the way home.

I thought a lot about home…on the way home.  I was intrigued by the idea of when I would start feeling like I was “back home.”  Not back at our house, but back in my own neck of the woods.  I thought it might be as soon as I put San Antonio in the rear view mirror but that isn’t when it happened.  It actually happened when I got to Columbus.

That makes sense.  Our synod owns a Bible camp outside of La Grange, TX.  I have spent a lot of time with friends at a state park near Bastrop.  Both of those places require turning off I-10 at Columbus (which is still 73 miles from the heart of Houston) but now I understand that is the distance of my homing signal emotional force field.

Still, I’m never really home unless I am with Kelley and none of my long rides are fully over until I have a Sunday under my belt at Faith Lutheran.

So that’s it for the Twisted Christmas Ride.  1682 miles of Texas beauty, with a little taste of the way winter is meant to be.  My bike now has 62,389 miles on it and I still love it.  It is a mile eating 18 wheeler of a motorcycle, custom fit for me.

Next up feels like back to Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, and Nevada. There will always be roads that I haven’t ridden, and a few I want to do again.