New England - end of summer 2014

Time for a last summer fling so five of us departed to New England for a quick run through the mountains. Riders are:

• Tom - Ride leader
• Jeff 
• Gokce on his bare naked Ducati Diavel (the bike is naked, not Gokce)
• Aryan on a brand new BMW K1600 GT touring bike with a lighting package that turns night into day. 

Ride link: goo.gl/w7rtwg

Day 1 highlights:

Long Day. Met at Yorkdale parking lot at 1am Saturday morning. Most of us got up 6am Friday morning and spent the evening after work packing and preparing the bikes. 

Crossed the border at 6ish - sun was starting rise. 

Rode until 11 and had a quick nap, sleeping under trees in Speculator. Short nap but it reenergized us for the rest of the day. Roads are wonderfully twisty but.... cracked and destroyed. Makes for interesting moments in a curve when the bike is going one direction and the cracks in the road take it into another. 

Got to our planned hotel in Montpellier at 8:30ish. This was going to be fun. Downtown, the women were all dressed up, ready to rock and roll and the town was hopping. Got to the hotel, first downer - no rooms - anywhere (probably because this is a happening place). We finally find a set of rooms in Lebanon, an hour away. 

Nothing like a long ride, in the dark, on a road that has frequent signs that say "Deer Crossing next 5 miles", Bear crossing next 4 miles", Moose crossing, next 3 miles" and they all overlap. Aryan kept his full light package on the entire way. Good thing it was a split highway, because the on coming drivers probably thought they were witnessing the birth of a new star. They kept flashing their beams but the light kept getting brighter.

Got to the hotel at 10:30, watered the bikes an put their blankets on. Ordered a pizza and a few beers, and shared the ride highlights and then hit the bed. Slept like babies and now we are preparing for the next day.

Drove 1,110 km and 22 hours. This is a group record, and a personal record for most of the riders. Yeah - that's what adventure riding as all about. 

Home again

We wake up to a fine touring day. Temps are in the low 20's, sunny with a bit of cloud. It's the last day ... and we are glad. The breakfast conversation is about getting home, missing wives and children, and that we are tired. Muscles are sore from 14 days of non stop riding, fighting the wind on high speed slab, wrangling the bikes through curve after curve. It's both physically and mentally draining and the lack of an off day simply did not leave enough time to recover.

But ... today we have one last glorious day of curvy Pennsylvania roads via the famed 666 through Allegheny park. The day started with a bit of slabbing, including the circle route through Pittsburg. There, we had an interesting incident where a cop, hiding behind a large pile of dirt, suddenly appeared out of seemingly no where, lights flashing, siren wailing, apparently off to chase one of the lead speeders in our group (it's always best to have a rabbit up front so the pesky wolves chase them, not us). The point is, the cop's entrance was performed without due regard to upstream motorists and the car ahead of us had to take evasive manoeuvres and Tom could have been in trouble as well since it seemed he was about to look back for a visual check to see if the group was still together. Had he been looking for us, he could have easily had a close call. 

We knew we were close by the large groups of bikes converging on the entrance to the park around Oil City Pennsylvania. This is one of the many old towns in this state with a difference. When oil was discovered in the area, many of the oil companies, Penzoil, Quaker State established headquarters here, so that town had some affluence. Today, it is largely a tourist town catering to park lovers and out door enthusiasts. We ate a small pizza to refuel for the ride ahead. 

The entrance to the park was spend following a large group of harley riders, out for a Saturday snort. Harley riding is punctuated by tight formation but slow and noisy riding. Following a pack is a recipe for a headache. The open pipes throb and belch large quantities of partially burned fuel (tuning the large displacement V motors to produce the signature vibration and exhaust throb results in less efficient combustion - that's one of the reasons Harley's product relatively little horsepower to displacement).

Fortunately, the leader is a pro and as soon as Tom makes his first passing move, the leader signals to his group to go single file, slow down and let us pass. We wave our appreciation and show our respect to the riders, and the road is ours again. 

666 is a scenic route that meanders through the forest and spends a lot of time following the Tionesta Creek, which is 50+ feet wide and was host to canoeists, rafters and general fun seekers. 

The terrain map shows how nicely the road follows the valley - perfect riding conditions with beautiful scenery

The winding roads come equipped with a 45 mph speed limit and few passing zones. That's  OK. We are a bit tired and the scenery is so vibrant, that we stay within striking distance of the limit. Most of the public are parked and enjoying the trails and water, so there are few cars on the road. The distance is only 35 miles but it takes time to cover the distance (compared to slab). We stop at a gift shop in the middle of no where (no cell coverage) called the Country Beary Shack for a quick rest. This is a ladies store but there is a distinct biker feel to it. The proprietor rides and is interested in our trip. Tom and I get some Route 66 coasters and comment that the store should have some route 666 stickers. 

Soon we get back to regular Pennsylvania roads and make a short detour to Warren PA so Tom could buy some special cement - yes, he was going to put a bag of special compound cement, for a backyard project, on the passenger seat of his bike (pillion). Unfortunately, it's a special order so he goes home empty handed. 

Next stop is our riding hub; Ellicotville New York, and specifically, Coffee Culture on E Washington street. The giant fireplace/flame pit has warmed us on countless rides and today is no different. It's close to end of day and the sun is waning. A north wind is dropping the temperatures to the mid teens and we are not dressed for the cold. A bowl of chilli, hot coffee and a pistachio muffin, beside the fire, warms us up for the final push to Toronto. We share the space with a vacationing couple and a family with grownup kids. They are fascinated by the details of our trip and the one young lad announces to his parents that he is going for his motorcycle license as well. We provide him with the same safety advice that is offered to all new riders and wish him well. 

The final ride to the border is uneventful, other than the cold. New York state police have been very successful enforcing the speed limits so we don't stray much from the max number. A sudden fuel stop in another sketchy part of town confirms that Tom doesn't care about the wrong side of the street. As we fuel, we are approached by two separate meth heads who are will into space land, but still aware enough to as for some hand outs. They linger by the bikes, perhaps hoping we would leave them alone for a few seconds, so they can grab something of value to pawn later. Dave and I aren't buying into that so we keep our loved ones in sight at all times.

The border crossing goes quickly and we are back in Canada.

Within 15 minutes, it's clear that something is different. Traffic is a bit heavy but the driving habits are completely different. Traffic is not flowing smoothly, cars are irregularly spaced, speeding up, slowing down - as if each person wants to set the speed limit for everyone else. Passing lanes are blocked by non passing cars - it's F%#ing horrible. 7,300 km or relatively predictable driving conditions in the states and then this. It stood out like a sore thumb. 

Police siren screams behind us and up front, cars refuse to clear the lane. Cop is forced to flash his lights and they finally move. One car suddenly hauls on the brakes, as if that's the right thing to do when you wake up from a stupor and realize a cop just sped by you. Then, at slow speed, the driver hops back into the left lane. I flash my high beams, which, when combined with the police like lime green reflective bands on my jacket, freak the guy out and he immediately move to the right. I pass and then the bugger cuts Tom and Dave off when he returns to the left lane without checking mirrors. Welcome to Ontario. I wonder if professional long distance truckers share this perspective. 

The ride to Toronto, on the QEW, in the evening, is actually the most dangerous part of this entire trip. Ultra high speed passing on the right, is the most unpredictable risk vector. We stop at the Casablanca exit gas station, grab a coffee, shake our heads in amazement at the drivers we just experienced and then, say our good byes. 

The camaraderie that comes from an adventure this deep and intense is unmistakable, and after three similar rides, it's clear, that each member of this group of riders has a deep, unshakable connection and can call upon his buddy for anything. We share a manly hug, slap on the back, share thanks for a great trip and even as we part, the thoughts are already focused on family and job. 

The transition from trip to real life started several days earlier and the thought recovering from rider fatigue, and the joy of family reunion makes this last step a pleasant formality. Perhaps it's also a sign of male psyche; had fun, thanks a lot, move on to the next. 

I will be posting more pics and perhaps some shortened vids in the coming weeks. Work is waiting and our projects demand a lot of my time, so either subscribe, so the blog notifies you or updates, or check back periodically. 

Mike

West Virginia and Pennsylvania (and then there were three)

We are back in hill country and have some great roads ahead of us. This area is within one day striking distance of Toronto. Breakfast is at Starbucks in the town square. The guys hit some of the stores for gifts for their children (and to check out the really cute sales clerk in the boutique).

Cipi needs to get home. His next week work take him out of town and he wants to spend a little time with his family. He needs to cover 1,000 km so it's a long, but doable day. We bid him a safe journey and he departs. 

Our trip starts slow - traffic getting to the rural roads but once we get on the roads, off we go. The roads are a lot of fun, but also have many residences and traffic. The theme is enjoy the curves but watch the speed limit. We don't want to scream through the residential areas, risking cars exiting driveways, kids/dogs crossing streets etc.

Tom looks for more remote roads ... and we get what we wanted. The road is so remote, it's only one lane wide. It curves up and down just the way we like, but the surface is more suitable for a GS than road bike. I like it but Tom and Dave are getting bounced around and skid a little. We start looking for an exit, when Billy Bob Joe Bob In-Bred comes whipping up a hill, taking up the entire road, going Waay Too Fast and almost wipes us out. Had we been in a car, someone would have been off the road. We start beeping on the approach to every blind corner (and there a many of those). We are so remote that we see deer grazing at the side of the river and a black bear crosses Tom's path. 

At a gas stop, Dave see's a huge turtle crossing an very busy street. He stops to rescue it and garners cheers from passing drivers. This snapper has a neck long enough to reach behind and try to snap at Dave's feet. He kicks the turtle off the road and we gas up. As we are resting, we see the turtle close to the road as well (suicidal or is there a female turtle calling from across the street?). He finds a Husqvarna grass catcher bit enough to hold the reptile and we cross the street to move the turtle to the swamp near the road. The turtle is not happy with our efforts and lunges to snap at Dave. These things literally jump and propel themselves during an attack. I kick him into the grass catcher and watch the sides of the thing bulge as it tries to escape. 

Dave gets more karma points and we get back on the road. 

Its getting dark and we are tired. Too much potential for making a big mistake, (and we are making little mistakes) so we rush to get off the road. We end up in Union Town at a nice Hampton inn. Have a swim and a steam, which relaxes the muscles. We make last call for a beer at the Mexican place across the street and crash (in bed).

Tomorrow is the last day.

Super Slab - making time

Today is super slab day. We need to make a lot of distance to get within striking distance to Toronto. Plus, it's Dave's birthday. Last year, we were in Ouray Colorado and he celebrated by screaming up and down the Million Dollar highway. This year will be much more boring. 

Super slab time is on four lane highways and as long as traffic is light, it's sort of mindless but produces a lot of miles per day. The top speed limits are a lot lower than in Texas so we are limited to maximum distance.

Spotwalla shows an almost straight line from Sikestron, Oklahoma to Huntington, West Virginia and we cross the grand Mississippi. The route takes through Missouri and Kentucky. Interestingly, this is one area where gas stations are rare and we get real close to running out of gas. 

Dave's dash is flashing, which means " GET GAS NOW". Tom has a specific stop on his mind and presses on regardless. We make a wrong turn. Instead of turning on the desired exit (500 feet down the road), we exit to another highway and the first exit is a ways down the road. When we finally get gas, Dave has zero fuel. The BMW is good for a few more km but this is the longest I have driven between stops. 

The Sena head sets are host to conversations about carrying a rotopax fuel container. The trip is always limited by the range of the smallest tank. The ranking is: Honda PC (will be retired before the next trip), Dave's Suzuki Bandit, Mike's BMW, the Concours and finally Jeff's Honda. Jeff carries a siphon hose but he wasn't on this segment. 

At a gas stop, Dave buys a scratch and win lottery ticket on a whim, and because it is based on the number 7. He wins .... $7 and buys 7 more tickets, which are promptly shared with the group. Each of us gets one and he gets 4. His first ticket wins so he cashes it in. The register starts binging and it turns out that each of the unscratched number is  winner as well - he hauls in $100. Lucky dog.

We end up in Huntingon West Virginia. This is the home town of Marshall University and it's clearly a vibrant community. To celebrate Dave's birthday we want access to some good restaurants and decide to stay right down town. As we roll in, we cross town square and a big band is performing. The music is great. Summer students are everywhere and the town is hopping. It's already dark. 

By the time we check in to the hotel and shower (need to clean road grunge off), it's past 10 pm. Guess what; the town shuts down at 10 PM. We find a sports bar that stays open late and get last call for beer, pizza and wings. 

We are tired. Riding the bike takes muscle control all the time. The two weeks are taking their toll. We really should have a one day break to rest but this trip was all about miles. For the first time, the though of how nice it would be to finish the trip enters the conversations. We have missed our families and while talking to them each day helps, it's time to be there. At least this trip is coming to it's natural end, after providing another wonderful experience. 

Ozark day two

Today we get to ride the creme de la creme of the Ozark roads. What can I say? These roads are more twisty, in great shape with bigger ups and downs than Tail of the Dragon.  There, I said it.  We are officially changing the agenda for the next Tennesee trip to the Ozarks. The weather disagrees with us on the best ride. The road is more technical than anything we have ridden. 10 mph hairpins that require first gear, and they went on and on. The rain and fog are so heavy, we can't photo or video. In a small way, the weather protected us from an "incident" by slowing us down. We have never experienced so many steep, narrow downhill hairpins and had we been driving normal speeds, might have left the road, or come real close to doing so. In this case, the result would have been a bike drop on rock - nothing serious.

We stop for a meal in Jasper in a historic building.  We meet an old timer who talks about his touring days on the Goldwing.  He is meeting the local IT. Guru to fix his laptop. The guru is a young girl with an cracked screen iPhone. I eavesdrops on the conversation and she actually knows what she's talking about. Seems that Ozark teens have a lot in common with their peers in Toronto. 

The locals tell us about the great roads and lodging options in the area. This place is worth a 1 week vacation and we resolve to come back. 

The rain lifts and we get back to the roads. There is a video that may not be published, which shows how much we love the roads. Our paths cross with a pottery shop for a local artisan at the fork of two roads. We are tired from the curves so it's time to stop for a break. A dog sleeping in the shade under and SUV opens her eyes to see what's causing the commotion as four vroom vrooms invade her quiet space. When we emerge from the store, she saunters over to check us out and is rewarded with a scratch under the chin and behind the ears. Dogs are dogs out here. She is dusty and has burrs in her fur. No fru fru bandana clad couch puppies in the Ozarks.   

Tom finds a mug that is perfect for his son (who has started drinking tea with his Dad) Shhhh, it's a surprise.

We now need to make distance to get home on time. The G3 road is a straight line to the northeast. We have another blast. The curves are not as tight as the G1 roads, but it's hill country so the curves are mixed with intense roller coaster hills. The tops are not quite airborne, but they do provide that lift off feeling.  The bottom of the dips give that G force pit of the stomach that we used to love when we were kids (hah, we're still kids, only older). Dave rescues a turtle crossing the road. We see a lot (I mean a LOT) of wild life carnage on the roads and this act of kindness is a small karma moment. 

Tom's GPS is acting up again, so I take the lead. There are new roads that don't show up on the GPS so we wing a section and end up in the south side of Sikeston.  Oh my. God, this is the south side of the rail tracks and it feels like a ghetto. Abandoned buildings, gang banger flying colours. Tom stops to check the maps in the parking lot of an abandoned building, Dave is freaking out, I check the mirrors in case someone comes from behind. Haven't seen this during the trip. We quickly move on to the next town, but on the way we cross the rail tracks and everything changes.  Closer to the highway, we have a totally forgettable Mexican meal and end up at a recently renovated best western. It's in the soft start period so still needs some work done. 

Tomorrow, slab for 8 hours to put us in striking distance of Toronto. 

Ozarks

After so many days on the road, the days become a bit of a blur. One really lives in the moment and enjoyed (or hates) each hour of the ride. From a blogging perspective, it's hard to remember what happened each day (perhaps I am getting old). 

The rides are longer now since we are at the tail end of the trip. Josh advises us that he needs to get back to Toronto on Tuesday to run a field trip that was scheduled a while ago,  to a scuba centre. He's going to try to move it, but ....  We work on combinations of how he would get back, alone, with Dave, with Jeff, with/without Ryan etc. 

In the mean time, the Roads are fantastic. Better than Tennessee. It's very rural and cell coverage is spotty. Verizon seems to be the provider of choice here, and we have AT&T. We are fighting weather systems with a bit set of storms to the south west, threatening to chase and over take us and another system to the north east, just where we are heading. Behind us, areas that we visited received record rains. Lafayette LA (we have an office there, got 6 inches of rain. 

This is mega hill country, hill billy country (and the hotel clerk proceeds to tell us about the bizarre hill billy killers). We stop at a local sight, Magazine mountain, the tallest mountain in the state. The views of the valley are spectacular and of course, regular pictures do not do the view justice. The look out sets the stage for the weather play that is unfolding in front of us. 

The sun is over a tiny spot to the left of centre stage. The clouds are rolling in as two weather systems collide, guaranteeing a wet ride for the rest of the day. Centre stage, just in front of us, sheets of rain rush towards our mountain look out, ironically, moving like a shower curtain. We watch the rain swirl through the trees below us and then bam it hits us. We wait it out under the trees. It's a short burst, then gone.  

Then we get to watch the fog as it rolls around our position and gradually fades the scene to grey. It's mesmerizing to watch it roll transform the landscape to shades of grey. Ryan has never seen this before and he is  loving every minute.  The fog too passes and then, off in the distance we see the full front arriving.  The rain is very heavy and obscures the landscape - shades of grey to black.  We hop on the bikes and make a mad dash down the valley to avoid getting caught on the mountain road in such an intense rain. It's sprinkling, so we can't go top speed.  Too late, the first wave catches as we run the last elevation. By the time we reach the gas station, we are soaked. As we don the rain layers, the full front hits and the road turns into a river. Jeff decides to head back to Nashville now since the good riding is done. It's a 7 hour ride (plus gas and rest stops). At best, they will arrive at 10pm - long day. We bid them farewell, wish them a safe ride and head to town, they go left, we go right.

The trip to town is slippery. The roads have a lot of tar which turns skating rink slippery when wet. The temperatures drop from high 20s to high teens and our visors fog. Not the best ride, especially for the Sollaks, who have a long distance to go. Weather radar says it's a big storm, so it will bring long duration of rain, so we decide to park it at 3pm. It takes too much time to select a hotel and on our way to the comfort inn, the front beats us again and pelts the bikes with big heavy rain drops. Three times, we have been soaked by this storm - it's a persistent bastard. 

Dinner at the Bistro across the street is wonderful, and the rain has cleared so we shop at Walmart and then sit around the pool patio, eat peanuts, shoot the shit and make friends with a ginger cat who love comfort inn cookies. We exchange text with the Sollaks who arrive in Nashville late - last text is at 2am.

Ferry Days. Alpine to Burnett to Ardmore OK

It's time to get from the spectacular roads in west Texas to the Ozarks. That means a lot of miles. We are a bit late starting (due to time spent posting the blog). We are doing major slab (interstate) to get as far east as possible. 

Highway 10 crosses Texas to San Antonio. We follow it to Junction City and head north in order to get on nicer roads and work our way to some T1 (excellent) roads. We get more excitement than expected. The higher speeds on Texas roads (up to 80mph limit on the big roads, and 70mph on the smaller roads) gets us to locations faster but... burn more fuel. The Pacific Coast that Ryan is riding has the smallest tank so he has the least range. Normally the PC can do 275km, but with the higher speeds and strong head winds, it is burning more fuel. 

Ryan runs out of gas less than 1 km from the planned gas station. Jeff rescues him by buying a liter of water, drinking some, dumping the rest and filling the bottle with gas. (seems fuel container rules are more relaxed here). We have a bit of a delay and the new limit is set at 250km. 

We get onto the secondary roads and enjoy the scenery, which has changed significantly from the desert. We have an Oh Fudge moment when rain has washed red slick mud across 10 feet of the road. Everyone hauls on the binders, there is a bit of slipping and sliding, but no one goes down - Whew! Ryan and Jeff are behind us and Josh holds back to warn him. Without a lot of experience, this could be bad news. Good luck, a bug has found it's way into his shirt. He stops to get rid of it and that means slow through the mud. Actually, the bugs are incredible along this stretch of road. Cipi does an emergency stop to get rid of a bug in his t-shirt. 

We see our first Armadillo in the field, munching on (whatever Armadillos eat). These are weird animals.

Most of the Armadillos that we see are squashed on the road. They blow up when hit by a vehicle and parts are scattered everywhere. It's almost like the armour holds the inside parts while the pressure builds and then one section gives and all the guts blow out.  Luckily, this area has the smaller units. They grow to be as large as small pigs. Hate to hit one of those. 

It's starting to get dark as we roll into Llano, where we plan to get a room at the Best Western. There is a Blues festival in town and we are looking forward to a beer and live music. Hey, there sure a a lot of Harley guys (and girls) wearing these yellow club vests. Every motel has a big group in the parking lot, chatting and drinking beer. Come to think about it, we saw quite a few on the roads leading into town. The best western lot is full of yellow vested harleys and we are greeted by a no vacancy sign. It is Memorial Day weekend and the rooms were booked a long time ago. The kind ladies behind the desk start phoning around for vacancies. There is one room with a King 100 miles away. That's not going to work. 

We finally find two rooms in Burnett, 40 miles away but are told that the motel is tired. Well, beggars can't be choosers so off we go. It's dark ... deer are out ... and it starts raining. Tom rides up front with his spot lights on. I ride beside him with the LEDs, which light up both sides of the road. The combination works ... as long as there are no oncoming vehicles, when we are forced to power down to low beam. During one of these low light sections, we don't see a gooey pile of squashed rodent and some of the bikes run over the stuff - good thing the rain cleans as we drive. 

The Motel is OLD, but the linens are clean so we take the unit. The beds are doubles, not queens, so it's good we are accustomed to tight quarters, or this could have been uncomfortable. No room for the pillows that mark the DMZ and silence the "night winds". Tomorrow we need to cover a lot of territory and we agree to start early. 

Cipi gets the day started at 6:30. It's overcast and looks like rain. The skies start spitting as we head to the local breakfast joint but open up as we park for breakfast. We meet a group of seniors on Sunday brunch, who are amazed that anyone would be out in this rain. One guy is a hockey fan so there is a basis for conversation.  Outside, a river is forming at the side of the road. Keeping the depth gauges in mind at stream crossings, the plan is changed. The local tour of scenic roads is replaced with a mad dash north to get out of the rain.

The plan works and we find ourselves out of the crappy weather in a few hours, but, the radar app shows we are in between two systems, one to the east, the other to the west. No stopping until we are in the clear, which happens in Decatur, a small quaint town near the Oklahoma border. It's here that we find time to eat lunch, at "Sweetie Pie's Ribeyes" The food is spectacular including a unique method of preparing baked potatoes, which are dipped into a vat filled with melted pine rosin. The rosin keeps a steady 190F which produces a perfect potato. When done, the potato is served in paper to kept he rosin off patrons. The spud takes on a unique rosin character, but you can't eat the skin because the pure rosin is bitter. 

We cross the Red River into Oklahoma but can't take a picture at the welcome sign since it is placed in a bad location. 

Tomorrow, we hit the nice twisty roads and just hope that the rain stays away (i think we'll get wet)

Terlingua to Alpine

Note: I posted a bunch of pictures to the prior day post. I will move them to the correct pages later, but at least there are some photos.

The day starts with a wonderful sun rise. I'm frantically trying to catch up the posts and we have a company call. Not enough time.

We start with coffee and breakfast at the local hang out. It's surprisingly good. Cipi picked up a piece of glass on the dirt road and has a flat in his brand new tire. At least the hole is in the centre of the tire, where it's easy to repair. That eats some time. We get on the road and a few miles down, Cipi pulls over - the plug has failed. We do the safe thing, safety vest, bike further down the road to slow drivers down. A cop sees us and stops to offer help. Bike is fixed and off we go. Cipi is a bit careful because a flat in a high speed corner is not a good thing. 

The highway joins the Rio Grande and the roadway path is dictated by this big river. The area has canyons and hills so we get want we want - exciting roads. The temperatures rise steadily to 36C and we can't image what it would be like had we not lucked out on a cold front. We stop for rest, water and sight seeing on the top of a big hill that overlooks the river and Mexico. 

Ride, Ride, Ride. We are heading for the mountain observatory owned by University of Texas.

There is a storm in our path. It looks angry and the radar app shows three distinct large cells. We get a short burst of a lot of rain from the back of the storm. Temps have dropped from a high of 36C to 18C. This sucker is pulling a lot of high atmosphere cold air to the ground. There is what looks like a funnel off to the back of the storm. We're not following that road so we hang a left and enter a scenic route. Other than a few sprinkles, the storm moves on. It starts to warm up,21C, 24C, 27C. The rain jackets are starting to get warm but we are increasing altitude so eventually the temps cool. We have gone from desert to a very green valley. This looks like a different part of the country. The roads are as expected, spectacular. We come across some nature photographers who shoot us as an alternative to birds and stuff. Around one corner we see ... snow??? Around the next, on a steep downhills ... the road is covered in snow. Everyone hauls on the binders cause at speed, that's going to get ugly, I go off the road to leave room for the others. Jeff lectures us on the perils of riding close formation. Will post pics of the "snow" It's actually hail. In places, the hail has shredded the leaves off trees and the road is littered with green confetti. 

Snow in the Texas desert/mountain area in May

Jeff and Mike stop to take pics

Turns out, it's hail, not snow

It was deep in places

Regular hail size

The hail shredded the leaves off the trees - chopped confetti on the road. That would not have been fun riding through it.

Can you believe this stuff. Note how deep the foot prints are.

We make it to the observatory and get great pics of the departing storm. 

The evening is spent in Alpine. A neat place with a larger airport sporting a few small jets. Obviously, rich guys have fun here. 

Dinner is at the Rialto. I order Calf Fries. Jeff and I are the only takers. Josh is a man and makes an attempt. He actually barfs the contents out almost immediately. Ryan puts a piece to his mouth and doesn't bite, then spits it out. The rest of the guys won't touch it.

I can now claim to have eaten it, but will not order it again. Taste is fried meat. Texture is soft, not chewy. Stewed in it's own secret sauce (daddy sauce?)

Calf's fries - notice the "over my dead body - I'll eat that NOT" look (except for Josh, who will barf some up shortly)

Tomorrow, we start a run through Texas to get to Arkansas.

Big Bend and Terlingua

This leg of the journey was a major highlight of the trip.

The day starts cool with threats of rain. Big Bend only gets two inches of rain per year, so this is a big deal for them. It's warm so the rain will cool us down - we are not worried. 

The start of the ride is flat, but soon we start seeing hills. Off in the distance we see mountains. We stop for gas in Sanderson and meet a retired gentleman who shares his stories of riding in California (that happens at every stop). He is clearly educated and knows a lot about the region. On parting, he asks us if we made reservations in big bend, it's memorial day weekend and the park will be busy for it's limited accommodations. Opps, we didn't think about it, but Adventure Amigos adapt - so it's off we go. 

Abandoned town on the way to Marathon

Catus in bloom. Note: no place for sandals. Cactus needles everywhere.

Picture frame window

I think Eddie was here, and perhaps he was fast (at what???)

Entrance to the road that take us to Big Bend park is the ghost town of Marathon. The train station is some kind of time warp.

One of many vehicles parked at Marathon train station. These will have great value for a collector in the future. 

South takes us to Big Bend

The park is beautiful. This is the view to the North

This is the view to the south and the mountains of Texas

That's a mile high

El Capitain

Looking forward to the ride to the top

The mountain top captures more moisture so it's a lot greener here

The way to the famous Terlingua Ghost town. It is without a doubt, one of the coolest (as in "cool baby") places on this earth. . Most of the year, it's HOT as hades

We stayed here (El Dorado Motel)

A rare sight in this area. Cold front bringing rain. The area only gets 2 inches of rain a year and the locals were delighted with this batch. We could have done without.

The sign was wobbling.
Note: bottom left corner of sign holds sticker from prior touring bands of rouges. 

Abandoned mansion is still being used to BBQ. Note rain in the left background. 

Bikes parked in front of the abandoned mansion in Terlingua (up the hill)

Garçon, a cold beer por favor

A sight we though we'd never see - a Concours off road 

Adventure Amigos at the abandoned mansion

We need a close up

Is someone living here???

My house

What't the wifi code?

I can sleep anywhere. These ghosts have nice couches

I am sleeping anywhere. Is that ghost in your dreams male or female. What are you afraid they will steal?

Rain is coming our way

Not fast enough for this guy

A surprising corner in Terlingua. Adds to the mystique 

Time for a beer. 

Spill your beer here

What can we say about the view from Terlingua, Starlight theatre porch. 

More spectacular

Would you believe we are in Texas

Old stuff stays a long time

Doing the Hula beside the Starlight theatre

The starlight theatre is the real deal

One of the best breakfasts on the entire trip. Finally, good coffee in Texas (they don't seem to care about good coffee)

A good breakfast gets us ready for another great ride.

Adding fuel and water for the day. Mexico is just behind the camera.

Abandoned rail station in Marathon

Recovery at Marathon (just before Big Bend)

Entrance to Big Bend

Storms over the Mountains (Big Bend)

Abandoned mansion Terlingua

Lounging at the mansion

View from Starlight Theater

Big Bend from Terlingua. What a view.

Mountain roads. Mexico to the right

Observatory perspective of the storm

mountain view

The one and only

Mountain road

best breakfast and coffee on the trip (so far)

Starlight theatre at dusk

Del Rio at the border

we heeded the advice

Strong like bull, smart like street car

I farted

Gotta watch those dips in the road. The puddle might be deeper than you think

ladies of Germany

New Toy

Our travel mascot.

beer amigos

It's been overcast all day but as we head down 385, a straight line to the park, we see blue skies clearing over the mountains. It's getting hot and we don the cooling gear. It's $10 per bike to enter the park and speed limit drops to 45. That's OK because the scenery is unbelievable. We slow down and drink in the features of the plains and the mountains that surround the ride. These are real mountains .... in Texas - who knew? The roads follow the terrain, unlike commercial roads, which carve through the country side. While the artificial ribbon cuts through the dessert, it's lines actually enhance the natural beauty. If I was making a movie about touring, this is a must shoot location. The rain has brought the dessert to life. The road is fringed with an almost florescent greet shrubbery that only comes to lift in the rain. Just off the road, plants are pushing out bright flowers. It's breath taking. Over in the distance, the storm is hovering just above the mountain and the sheets of rain, make a curtain that obscures that part of the dessert. The occasional stab of lightning provides a spectacular show and it's corresponding thunder rattles your body as it rolls across the open spaces. Don't see this in the city.

We are hoping for a room at a camp high in the mountains. The road up is similar to Pikes peak only in miniature. The path follows the easiest route so we circle a bowl but there are steep sections with hairpin turns (we live for that), however, the rain washed a lot of gravel on the road, so that greatly tempers our need for speed. I get to the top first so it's off to book a room. The drive through the parking lot looks good, not a lot of cars. The experience at the desk, not so good. I ask for rooms, the guy looks at my gear, pauses and says one room, one bed only. Perhaps they don't like bikers here. Perhaps they were full. I get the feel from body language that the hikers, bird lovers and like, think we'll disrupt their peace and oneness with nature. We sure would have enjoyed the views (there were spectacular) but it's time to move to plan B. There are towns just out side of the park with options. The easter egg motel is recommended but someone else tells us it's cheap but run down. That's the risk of adventure amigoing.

The ride out of the park is amazing. Big long sweepers as we descend from altitude. The storms stay over the mountain and skys clear as we get closer to "town". The motels are really run down. Easteregg is run by hippies. We try Terlingua Ghost town and, while the town looks very interesting, accommodation looks sketchy. As we stop to take a picture at the sign, a lady in a beat up old ford pickup yells at us for blocking the road, and heads into town. Oh my, angry residents. 

The local hang out is called the Starlight theatre and it's a happening place. At the top of the hill is an abandoned mansion that provides excellent photos (to be posted soon).

We hit the road to see what's in the next town at the part information centre. This is promising - it's a full service gold resort, but the cost is steep. We decide to check Terlingua again. The ride back is spectacular, the sun is setting and it's painting the mountains with a full colour palette. One in particular is red/orange on it's tip with a golden brown in the middle.

We end up at the El Dorado, it's a bit cheesy but it's close to the Starlight. Dinner is very good with excellent live music. Terlingua has a vibrant artist community. Outside, a guitarist/singer with his violin friend is serenading with a very unique style that is reminiscent of 20's sound with folk music. We meet all sorts of interesting people from all over the world and economic strata. A single mom and her daughter are having fun in front of the general store, which provides professional hula hoops. Way off in the corner is  a local nursing a case of beer, who scowls at us, at the children. Obviously some locals are not happy. 

We hang around after dinner and Jeff and Cipi take an evening ride into the mountains. Josh and Ryan make friends with the locals but we are tired and walk back to the rooms. It's dark, and we wander from side to side with help from out iPhones. What a day.