Just before Christmas 2005, the company I had worked hard to make successful, closed its doors for the last time. I was fortunate, though, I snatched a job offer prior, but it required leaving Texas and moving to Virginia. I never thought I would leave Texas, but you gotta pay the bills and that’s where the bird in the hand was waiting.
Since the new job didn’t start until February, I decided to ride out to California and meet Bandit. I had a great ride out to California and wrote about it in the story “In Pursuit of Bandit” posted on Bikernet.com. I started writing about the return trip early last year, but I never finished that part of the story. So, in the spirit of trying to accomplish one New Year’s resolution, here’s that story for you:
I spent that Friday morning of January 6, 2006 getting the nickel tour of the Bikernet HQ and Wilmington. Bandit and his grandson were my hosts. I enjoyed the opportunity to talk with Bandit and he made me feel right at home. But, daylight was burning and I needed to head back east toward Texas. Besides, I had a photo shoot scheduled in Phoenix the next day and didn’t want to keep a pretty lady like Steph waiting long. There’s nothin’ like a good-looking babe at the other end of a trip to motivate a fella to hit the road.
I rode my Fatboy back to the hotel and checked out a little before noon. I was still feeling the effects from that damned desert fever that hit me a couple of days before. But, by comparison, I was in much better shape on the coast.
I headed north on the 110 and then east on the 91. That’s where I got my first taste of lane-splitting. Traffic bogged down and the bike in front of me took off between cars. I never split lanes before, so it seemed like a good chance for a first experience. As they say, “When in Rome…”
Lane-splitting must be an acquired taste and if I had to fight LA traffic all the time, I’m sure I’d be more enthusiastic about it. But, for me, it was an enlightening experience. We only split lanes for a couple of miles, but it was enough to feel the rush of, “Oh shit, what if that Corolla moves over right now!”
God bless the riders that do it all the time. I spent most of the time with my ass stuck to the seat, white-knuckled and eyes scanning every moving thing within 100 yards. I think it was fun? I’m just not sure my old heart could do it everyday.
I rode the 91 Freeway through Riverside and took 60 East to Beaumont where it hooks up with I-10. By this time, I realized the last time I ate any food was back on Wednesday night in Yuma (assuming the ice cream treat at the gas station in Corona on Thursday didn’t count). Suddenly, I was hungry, but wary of putting anything in my stomach. So, I did what any nutritionally conscious, recently ill man, of the world would do; I cured my hunger with a cheeseburger from McDonalds. Miraculously, it stayed down.
The desert fever, or whatever it was, still had me moving slow. I reached Arizona as the sun began to slip over the horizon behind me. I hated to stop so soon, but the choice was catch a hotel in Quartzsite or travel another 100 miles to one closer to Phoenix. I covered about 260 miles by then and didn’t think I had another 100 miles of desert night travel in me. I pulled off in Quartzsite and crashed for the night with the intention of getting an early start Saturday morning. A bag of pretzels and a Coke from the vending machine served as dinner. Life is good!
I dragged myself out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn and prepared for a short, but cold, ride into Phoenix. I was scheduled to meet Steph at WestWorld in Scottsdale around noon. I didn’t want to be late and needed to cover 150 miles or so. Since it was I-10 the whole way (which, for the record, sucks) I wasn’t worried about getting there in time. The problem was the temperature. It was damned cold again! These cold January mornings in the desert were beginning to be a pain in my butt.
I bundled up with a couple of layers under my leather jacket and headed out at 7:30. The rest areas between Quartzsite and Phoenix made opportunities to hop off the bike and warm up before heading out again. It was at one of these stops that an older man (in his eighties I would guess) walked up and began asking about my bike and the ride.
I could see the gleam in his eye as I told him about the ride from Texas to California. He never mentioned whether he was still a rider, and although he never said specifically, I was certain he once was a rider and was reliving memories as we talked. It was one of my favorite moments on the ride. I’m guessing he spent many miles that day driving along in his Buick reminiscing about the old days.
I arrived at WestWorld around 11:00 and found a quiet parking lot to sit and wipe down the Softail. I planned to use it in the shoot with Steph and it had several days and a couple thousand miles of road grime pasted to the chrome. I’m not sure why I bothered. It wasn’t likely anyone was going to notice the bike as long as Steph was in the photos.
A few minutes later a monster Ford F-350, 4-wheel drive, jacked up, pickup pulled into the lot, pulling a 30 foot travel trailer. It was a beautiful rig. The truck pulled up next to me. The passenger door swung open and out popped a 5 foot 4 inch, strawberry blonde beauty. She leapt to the gravel and introduced herself as, “Steph.” Through the open door, she introduced her husband Rich. After introductions all around, we all began discussing the shoot.
Now, I use the term “photo shoot” loosely here. I’m not a professional photographer and my pictures are taken with a small Sony digital camera that’s easy to pack. As any cross country biker knows, carrying a bunch of equipment is just wrong, so I travel with the minimum and the basics. Luckily, Steph was the understanding sort and didn’t tell me to take a hike when she laid eyes on my unsophisticated photography equipment.
While Steph made an outfit change, Rich and I had a chance to talk. He told me an interesting story about when Steph was 8 months pregnant. Apparently the new drive shaft for that monster pickup came in while Rich was away at work. So, she crawled under and got busy getting that bad boy hooked up. You gotta love a woman like that.
We had an enjoyable shoot, at least for me anyway. I think Steph and Rich enjoyed it too. I have to admit, I was nervous as long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but Steph was the consummate pro, and made sure we got some good shots.
We wrapped up the shoot and said our goodbyes. I mounted up and tried to get a little closer to Texas. I left Phoenix and headed east on US-60. After a day and half of interstate riding, I needed to jump on some roads less traveled. US-60 is a comfortable road once you slither away from the Phoenix sprawl. It rolls and winds through the hills and provides a distinct change of pace from the interstate.
US-60 between Superior and Globe is especially beautiful as you pass around the southern edge of the Sierra Ancha. I peeled off for another McDonald’s in Globe and left town on US-70. I was debating whether to try to reach Silver City, New Mexico for the night, or take the more direct route to Lordsburg. I had another opportunity to meet up with Jennifer in west Texas on Sunday, so I needed to roll as close as I could. I decided to bypass Silver City.
I made it to Lordsburg after dark. The day included another 400 miles of riding, not bad considering the time I took on the photo shoot with Steph. I gassed up, grabbed some dinner, then scooted on back to the hotel for a good night’s rest.
Jennifer and I tentatively planned to see if we could work in a photo shoot on my way back through west Texas. I figured I could be in her neck of the woods by mid-afternoon, so I needed to grab another early start. I left Lordsburg early in the morning and hauled ass on I-10 across southern New Mexico. The run to El Paso was uneventful and I found myself sitting down at the bar in Hooters for lunch.
I finished lunch and touched base with Jennifer again before heading out. The wind was howling across the west Texas plains. We decided the wind and blowing dust was going to make a photo shoot a challenge, so again, I missed meeting the beautiful Miss Jennifer. That’s the way it goes sometimes.
I left Hooters and decided since the photo shoot was off, I’d take advantage of the extra time and head east on US-62 instead of I-10. This had a couple of advantages. First and foremost, no interstate! Second, I could pass by Guadalupe Peak, the highest point in Texas. I knew I was going to be leaving Texas in a couple of weeks, so I decided to take advantage and see as much of it as possible.
The stretch of road from El Paso to Guadalupe Peak is bleak to say the least. Miles of flat, sagebrush laden land for as far as the eye can see. I only passed a few cars on US-62, so the road was all mine. It was a relaxing ride. I reached Guadalupe peak a little over an hour after leaving El Paso. I realized I must have ignored the speed limits since that part of the ride was 100 miles.
Traffic didn’t pose any problem on my newly chosen route, but gas stations did. I needed gas and my choices were limited. I could continue on my intended route to Pecos, TX and stretch the limits of my gas mileage, or go a little north out of my way to White’s City, NM. Since White’s City was closer I decided to make the short detour and avoid the chance of pushing a Fatboy down a lonely Texas desert highway.
I turned back south out of White’s City and cut east across TX-652. It was a terrific open road that cut through to US-285. It rolled over the gentle hills of the Texas plains for 40 miles. I made it to my destination, Fort Stockton, in time for some dinner and a good night’s rest.
I awoke to another picture perfect day for riding (my eighth in a row). In my effort to avoid I-10, I decided to see as much of Texas as I could while still maintaining a generally eastbound direction. This gave me the opportunity to visit a couple of old West Texas forts, Fort Stockton, Fort Lancaster and Fort McKavett. These were outposts in West Texas back in the 1850s and ‘60s.
In July 1867, Colonel Edward Hatch, Commander of the 9th Cavalry, came to Fort Stockton with one of the new regiments created for the black men who sought security in the US Army after the Civil War. These black enlisted men were called “Buffalo Soldiers” by the Indians.
Fort Lancaster was established August 20, 1855, to guard the San Antonio-El Paso Road and protect movement of supplies and immigrants from Indian hostilities. The Fort was abandoned March 19, 1861, after Texas seceded from the Union. The fort is now ruins, but you can walk around the area where buildings once stood. With a good imagination, you can even get a sense of what life must have been like living out in the middle of nowhere.
Originally called Camp San Saba because it overlooks the headwaters of the San Saba River Valley, Fort McKavett was established by five companies of the Eighth Infantry in March of 1852 to protect frontier settlers and travelers on Upper El Paso Road. The camp was later renamed for Capt. Henry McKavett, killed at the battle of Monterey on September 21, 1846. The fort was abandoned March 1859 and reoccupied April 1868. By 1880, the fort was no longer needed and was abandoned June 30, 1883. Fort McKavett was once called by General William T. Sherman “the prettiest post in Texas.” You’ll remember Gen. Sherman from his march through Georgia during the Civil War.
I really enjoyed the Fort visits. It was interesting to see some of our historic relics. The aspect that stuck with me most was how difficult life must have been back then. It took a tough man to deal with the harshness of the terrain and weather, not to mention the hazards and conflicts. My hat is off to them.
The day ended by meeting a riding buddy in Junction, Texas. Jerry rode in from Houston, in order to enjoy a last ride together through the Texas Hill Country. I know most people who aren’t from Texas find it hard to believe Texas has a “hill country.” Everyone thinks it’s flat and desert. But, the Texas Hill Country is something special. I couldn’t think of a better way to end my 23 years in Texas than riding through this beautiful section of it. My goal was to cover as much of it as possible.
But first, we needed to find a place to eat and get a cold beer or two. Since it was still early in the evening we decided to start with the cold beer break. We found a cool hole-in-the-wall bar down by the river and accomplished goal number one.
On our way back through town we accomplished goal number two at the La Familia Mexican Restaurant on Main Street. La Familia served terrific Mexican food along with a couple of gorgeous sisters to keep the salsa and cold beer coming. It was a great way to get our Hill Country ride started right.
The next morning, with the temperature hovering around 30 degrees, we headed south and began to criss-cross our way east. We were able to hit several of the best motorcycling roads Texas has to offer. We took US-377 from Junction toward Rocksprings, turned on TX-41 over to Ranch Road 335 (RR-335). Ranch Roads (RR) and Farm to Market Roads (FM) in Texas are similar to county roads in other states. They’re typically small two lane roads that provide you with the best view of Texas.
RR-335 took us south to Camp Wood where we hooked up with RR-337 over the Leakey (pronounced Lakey). We went from Leakey to Utopia by way of the long and scenic route. We took RR-336 north out of Leakey, back to TX-41, then down US-83 back through Leakey, to FM-1050 East into Utopia, both in city limits and state of mind. FM-470 provided our eastbound route from Utopia to Bandera. My only regret was that we ran out of time and missed the portion of RR-337 from Vanderpool over to Medina.
We rode from Bandera to Javelina Harley-Davdison in Boerne (pronounced Bernie) for a much needed rest. After refueling, bodies and bikes, we headed for Austin passing through Kendalia, Twin Sisters, Blanco, Henly, etc. etc. Our objective after a long day of riding was Bone Daddy’s House of Smoke.
I can remember a couple of years ago, sitting in Bone Daddy’s with Jerry when he turned to me and said, “This is my favorite place in the whole world.” I highly recommend it. The food is good, not great, but the beautiful waitresses running around the restaurant make every stop worthwhile. My son and his friend met us a Bone Daddy’s and we had one hell of a good night of drinking and lying to each other. It was the best way to wrap up nine days of riding without anything more than the inconvenience of a little cold weather.
The next morning it was time to go home. Jerry and I took the direct route back to Houston, cruising across US-290 all the way. We got to my exit a little before noon and Jerry suggested some lunch at Hooters. I decided, since I had been on the road for ten days, I’d better not press my luck with the most understanding wife a guy could ask for, so I declined. I made it home exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. If I didn’t have so much to do to prepare for my move to Virginia, I’d hit the road again.
This rates as one of my favorite trips. It totaled almost 3,800 miles in 10 days. It included seeing some parts of Texas I hadn’t had a chance to see; celebrating the University of Texas’s national championship in a bar in Yuma, AZ; pushing myself through the California desert with a fever and hallucinations; meeting Bandit, an icon in the industry; meeting the lovely Steph and Rich; seeing more of Texas; riding the Texas Hill Country with my best friend, Jerry; and an evening to remember (yet totally forgotten) at Bone Daddy’s with family and friends.
Wow, what a way to kickoff a new year! I’m just sorry it took me a year to get this story written. To Steph, my apologies, but I finally got it finished. I hope you enjoy the result. If you’re looking for a model to work with I highly recommend Steph. You can contact her through me by sending me an email message at: criddle123@earthlink.net. I’ll make sure she gets the message.
