Today we get to ride the Three Twisted Sisters. It’s the first full day of riding with no breaks for the trailer group. It’s a perfect day. Cool with a bit of cloud cover. Plus, the miles are bringing back the fine motor skills that significantly improve bike control. Casual riders never build these skills so they miss out on the real joy of riding. These skills let you put the bike exactly where you want it to be, the right speed, right angle, right line. One reads the road surface better so decisions are better and the ride is safer. The twisted sisters will put these skills to good use.
We start the day heading back to Friedhelm's german restaurant for a ride pic. A server sees us setting up and opens the door to advise us that the restaurant doesn’t open til 11. We ask her if she and her peers would join us in a photo. Sure enough, three ladies in full German garb emerge, giggling at this interesting break in their morning.
Then, we promplty get lost. Mike’s fault.
We are heading to the start of the ride, I pull down the visor and my glove puts a smear right in the middle of the visor, obstructing sight. Even though I don’t have the GPS set to the ride start point, I pull over to wipe the visor clean; Jeff pulls over as well (good rider teamwork). The slope on the side of the road does not allow me to set the kickstand, so the bike is repositioned blah blah. Net result, we get way behind. Visor clean, we head out on the road. Ride rules dictate that if the group changes direction, someone stays at the intersection and directs the rest of the team in the right direction. We continue along the original path and soon realize we are not catching up. We stop a few km down the road. Either the team has screamed ahead and is not checking mirrors, or, they made a turn early and did not see us in time to send someone back. Jeff will continue down the road for a few miles. I follow rule #2, return to the next known stopping place. I return to the intersection of the road to the hotel and road to the restaurant. Worst case, I need to head back to the restaurant.
Good luck. I spot Josh. He was returning from the Hotel. Tom has done a good job of sending the main group to the two known meeting places. I inform him where Jeff is and we prepare to wait his return. Ryan shows up and he waits with us while Josh returns to notify Tom we are found. Jeff follows his pattern and we match up and return to the group.
These practices make group riding safer for those groups who follow safety procedures.
The three sisters are wonderful. They twist up the mountains with lots of curves and hills. The roads are steep and very scenic. The early parts of the ride takes us through residential areas (can't go fast there) but then we end up in more isolated areas. The views from the top of the hills is spectacular (that word gets used too often but it properly describes the vistas). What's new about this road is that it has steep downhills and a sharp bottom transitioning into a steep uphill followed by a curve. The rider gets a roller coaster like G force, needs to apply power and then position for a line/lean into the following curve. We (I) tend to under power up the hills using one gear too high. Either way, it's a ton of fun. The rolling hills on the top of the mountain make for a true roller coaster ride and with enough speed, give the feeling of flying (for one sec). We are kids again and the rides end with a gaggle of giggling guys.
Lunch is in Rock Springs, a tiny town in the middle of no where, at the local BBQ, which has a banner sign, beside the gas station. Food was great, quantities too much and the server/wife of the owner was happy to share all the gossip about this area. We learn that Obama is a dictator and that no Democrats bother to run in elections 'cause they'd never get a vote. Interesting position for an area that is so poor. At an adjoining table is a young mother, very attractive, very young with a cute baby boy (who gets a lot of attention from the women in the restaurant). She is sitting with what might be the dad (i might be pushing my assumptions but their conversations were of a family type), a BIG ol boy who is probably 10 years her senior. She works across the street at Josh's emporium. When we head over there to check it out, she asks Josh, you boys go to school? Huh? going to school is something special, a privilege? Perhaps in Obama the Dictator town. How do the republicans appeal so much to opposite ends of the spectrum.
The land gets flat as we approach Del Rio, at the Mexican border. We cross over the huge Amistad reservoir which is filled by the Devil river and Rio Grande. Del Rio is not a rich town. The Best Western is across from the pawn shop and bail bondsman. It's of old vintage, exactly the same as the unit in Bishop, that my family stayed in during our California trip a few years ago. The pool has bugs floating in it, but the water is clear, and refreshing after the hot desert. Ironically, the proprietor is a stereotypical Indian family but they take very good care of the property.
We jump on the bikes for a quick run to the border. The first picture isn't done when a city police patrol car approaches us and a young policeman asks us if we need help. His attitude quickly changes and he is drawn to Josh's Versys. It's the bike of his dreams and our tales of it's yeoman's service makes him want one even more. He takes the camera to make the group shot as his supervisor arrives. The supervisor takes over the "scene". He explains that there are cameras everywhere and we got noticed quickly. He warms up quickly (Jeff is a charmer). We don't want to go to Mexico. It used to be nice, as a kid he would cross the border to shop, drink beer (lower drinking age). Now, the corrupt government, police, federales have ruined the country, along with narco gangs. It's a shame how human greed and ruthlessness ruin generations.
We head back for a good sleep - tomorrow, Big Bend.
We start the day heading back to Friedhelm's german restaurant for a ride pic. A server sees us setting up and opens the door to advise us that the restaurant doesn’t open til 11. We ask her if she and her peers would join us in a photo. Sure enough, three ladies in full German garb emerge, giggling at this interesting break in their morning.
Then, we promplty get lost. Mike’s fault.
 |
| The nice serving staff in Cherman togs |
 |
| Even the name is authentic |
We are heading to the start of the ride, I pull down the visor and my glove puts a smear right in the middle of the visor, obstructing sight. Even though I don’t have the GPS set to the ride start point, I pull over to wipe the visor clean; Jeff pulls over as well (good rider teamwork). The slope on the side of the road does not allow me to set the kickstand, so the bike is repositioned blah blah. Net result, we get way behind. Visor clean, we head out on the road. Ride rules dictate that if the group changes direction, someone stays at the intersection and directs the rest of the team in the right direction. We continue along the original path and soon realize we are not catching up. We stop a few km down the road. Either the team has screamed ahead and is not checking mirrors, or, they made a turn early and did not see us in time to send someone back. Jeff will continue down the road for a few miles. I follow rule #2, return to the next known stopping place. I return to the intersection of the road to the hotel and road to the restaurant. Worst case, I need to head back to the restaurant.
Good luck. I spot Josh. He was returning from the Hotel. Tom has done a good job of sending the main group to the two known meeting places. I inform him where Jeff is and we prepare to wait his return. Ryan shows up and he waits with us while Josh returns to notify Tom we are found. Jeff follows his pattern and we match up and return to the group.
These practices make group riding safer for those groups who follow safety procedures.
The three sisters are wonderful. They twist up the mountains with lots of curves and hills. The roads are steep and very scenic. The early parts of the ride takes us through residential areas (can't go fast there) but then we end up in more isolated areas. The views from the top of the hills is spectacular (that word gets used too often but it properly describes the vistas). What's new about this road is that it has steep downhills and a sharp bottom transitioning into a steep uphill followed by a curve. The rider gets a roller coaster like G force, needs to apply power and then position for a line/lean into the following curve. We (I) tend to under power up the hills using one gear too high. Either way, it's a ton of fun. The rolling hills on the top of the mountain make for a true roller coaster ride and with enough speed, give the feeling of flying (for one sec). We are kids again and the rides end with a gaggle of giggling guys.
 |
| In the middle between north and south |
 |
| Roller coaster hills |
 |
| I went faaasssttt |
 |
| Caution, puddles may be deep |
 |
| It's F#$%ing desolate here |
 |
| A bit of shade before the last run to Del Rio |
Lunch is in Rock Springs, a tiny town in the middle of no where, at the local BBQ, which has a banner sign, beside the gas station. Food was great, quantities too much and the server/wife of the owner was happy to share all the gossip about this area. We learn that Obama is a dictator and that no Democrats bother to run in elections 'cause they'd never get a vote. Interesting position for an area that is so poor. At an adjoining table is a young mother, very attractive, very young with a cute baby boy (who gets a lot of attention from the women in the restaurant). She is sitting with what might be the dad (i might be pushing my assumptions but their conversations were of a family type), a BIG ol boy who is probably 10 years her senior. She works across the street at Josh's emporium. When we head over there to check it out, she asks Josh, you boys go to school? Huh? going to school is something special, a privilege? Perhaps in Obama the Dictator town. How do the republicans appeal so much to opposite ends of the spectrum.
The land gets flat as we approach Del Rio, at the Mexican border. We cross over the huge Amistad reservoir which is filled by the Devil river and Rio Grande. Del Rio is not a rich town. The Best Western is across from the pawn shop and bail bondsman. It's of old vintage, exactly the same as the unit in Bishop, that my family stayed in during our California trip a few years ago. The pool has bugs floating in it, but the water is clear, and refreshing after the hot desert. Ironically, the proprietor is a stereotypical Indian family but they take very good care of the property.
We jump on the bikes for a quick run to the border. The first picture isn't done when a city police patrol car approaches us and a young policeman asks us if we need help. His attitude quickly changes and he is drawn to Josh's Versys. It's the bike of his dreams and our tales of it's yeoman's service makes him want one even more. He takes the camera to make the group shot as his supervisor arrives. The supervisor takes over the "scene". He explains that there are cameras everywhere and we got noticed quickly. He warms up quickly (Jeff is a charmer). We don't want to go to Mexico. It used to be nice, as a kid he would cross the border to shop, drink beer (lower drinking age). Now, the corrupt government, police, federales have ruined the country, along with narco gangs. It's a shame how human greed and ruthlessness ruin generations.
 |
| Mexico is just down the road |
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| Del Rio Police check us out (and take our photo) |
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| Border Crossing |
We head back for a good sleep - tomorrow, Big Bend.
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