The goal today is to get new tires. We are heading into the wilds of Texas and don't want to have a flat there. This forces a small change in plan. Instead of nice scenic roads, we need to super slab it (boring) in order to get to the dealer by 3PM so that we can get same day service. Tom's GPS is acting up, Dave's got fried in the rain on the way down, Jeff's won't boot so I am elected to take the lead (I'll talk about the evaluation of the new Garmin Android unit in a future blog)
Texas speed limits are between 70 and 75 mph and everyone does 10+ over the limit. The moment we leave Galveston, it's non stop superslab and industry for a LONG time. Imagine the drive along the 401 from Hamilton to Whitby, only longer and with sections of highway that is wider with 4 levels of clover leafs. That is Galveston to the other side of Houston. Traffic is even busier than the day before. Good thing Ryan got a taste the day before because this is intense and it's at 80+ mph.
We have one "learning" experience. Travelling in a group, with safe distance between bikes, means we take up a lot of space on the highway. We are usually the fastest group so it's no problem in the left lane, but in heavy traffic we get split up easily. Just west of Houston, 10 shrinks down to 2 lanes. We are passing 2 lanes of truck after truck when our lane ends. Most of the bikes get through where the lanes merge but Ryan got stuck in the middle of the truck as he starts moving over on the lane. Truck's gotta move or he runs off the road. Ryan reads it well, moves out of the way, applies brakes and pops back into a safe spot. This wasn't an emergency but could have been if he'd panic. Big pass on another test - he'll do OK as a rider.
We get to the dealer a 3 PMish and start the process of new tires. It's a big shop with lots of inventory so we do what all other bikers do, passing the time. Sit on bikes, check out the gear, decide if there is anything new that we need. Good new is "nothing" is needed. As usual, the repairs take longer, cost more etc. A few of us find the dealer couch. A nurse was sitting there having a snooze when I pop into the corner. Ahh, nice and soft ... I could close my eyes. When I wake up, Jeff is snoring on the opposite couch and Ryan is sprawled across from me. The nurse is gone, replaced by a lean, tall, leather clad biker with tattoos, a brush cut and white amish beard. Interesting combination. I met him outside checking out the bikes (particularly the BMW). We chat about our trip and he shares his long distance rides. Off in the distance, I see our gang sitting in a Kawaski 4 wheel drive buggy having a laugh. All of a sudden Dave is doing the Watusi, running around like a mad man, arms flailing, slapping his head and back. What the fu.... Turns out a bird nest fell out of the rafter right above him. Startled his ass and made for a memorable event.
Both guys were un happy with what they were charged and the mechanic left grease on Cipi's bike. The amount quoted on the phone was not what was on the invoice, but hey, in trip repairs can't be controlled. I learn a few words in Romanian that likely can't be repeated in a family setting.
We were planning to stay in Kerrville, which is at the gate of the three sisters but again, listening to the locals, we change the plan and ride to Fredricksberg. This is German country and Fredericksberg is the centre of that culture. Our visit to the Alamo is another victim of the Big Bend decision.
The roads start changing again. Instead of flat land, we start so see some hills that become more frequent the farther we get from San Antonio. We are in hill country and this is what we came for. Twisty roads, rivers in the valley. It's a different Texas.
The best western in town doesn't like motorcyclists. The cranky old man behind the counter quotes us an unusually high rate, no AAA, $20 extra for each of the people beyond 2 in the room. ????? what happens if father and 2 sons get a room, $20 bucks for the extra kid???, $40 bucks if he brought his wife???
We find the comfort inn at a great rate and are advised that Friedhelm's Bavarian Inn is the best German restaurant in the area. It looks like a transplant directly from the south of Germany. Spindles separating tables, cowbells hanging from the ceiling and an excellent bar (according to Cipi) The food is fantastic. Everyone orders schnitzel but I get the sauerbraten. The waitress hears my tales of Oma's food and advises me that the health board would not allow the proprietor to marinate the meat according family recipe so the flavour is there but not as intense. Brings back memories of being a kid. Oma used to put the roast into a glazed clay pot with vinegar and spices for a week (or more). Recently my Mom and I were discussing the method and she wondered if it was healthy but we never got sick. I think the vinegar and salt kill any bacteria and allow the meat to age and take on the spices. Anyways, this was a wonderful reminder of happy times as a kid.
Cipi started the meal in a foul mood from the dealer experience, but we ply him with a few beers and the food surprises him by how good it is. By the time we get back to the hotel, he is laughing again.
Tomorrow is the fun day. Three sisters and ride to Big Bend.
Texas speed limits are between 70 and 75 mph and everyone does 10+ over the limit. The moment we leave Galveston, it's non stop superslab and industry for a LONG time. Imagine the drive along the 401 from Hamilton to Whitby, only longer and with sections of highway that is wider with 4 levels of clover leafs. That is Galveston to the other side of Houston. Traffic is even busier than the day before. Good thing Ryan got a taste the day before because this is intense and it's at 80+ mph.
We have one "learning" experience. Travelling in a group, with safe distance between bikes, means we take up a lot of space on the highway. We are usually the fastest group so it's no problem in the left lane, but in heavy traffic we get split up easily. Just west of Houston, 10 shrinks down to 2 lanes. We are passing 2 lanes of truck after truck when our lane ends. Most of the bikes get through where the lanes merge but Ryan got stuck in the middle of the truck as he starts moving over on the lane. Truck's gotta move or he runs off the road. Ryan reads it well, moves out of the way, applies brakes and pops back into a safe spot. This wasn't an emergency but could have been if he'd panic. Big pass on another test - he'll do OK as a rider.
We get to the dealer a 3 PMish and start the process of new tires. It's a big shop with lots of inventory so we do what all other bikers do, passing the time. Sit on bikes, check out the gear, decide if there is anything new that we need. Good new is "nothing" is needed. As usual, the repairs take longer, cost more etc. A few of us find the dealer couch. A nurse was sitting there having a snooze when I pop into the corner. Ahh, nice and soft ... I could close my eyes. When I wake up, Jeff is snoring on the opposite couch and Ryan is sprawled across from me. The nurse is gone, replaced by a lean, tall, leather clad biker with tattoos, a brush cut and white amish beard. Interesting combination. I met him outside checking out the bikes (particularly the BMW). We chat about our trip and he shares his long distance rides. Off in the distance, I see our gang sitting in a Kawaski 4 wheel drive buggy having a laugh. All of a sudden Dave is doing the Watusi, running around like a mad man, arms flailing, slapping his head and back. What the fu.... Turns out a bird nest fell out of the rafter right above him. Startled his ass and made for a memorable event.
 |
| Changing the headlight bulb |
 |
| Donny, our dragon fly mascot hitching a ride. Shhhhh - he's sleeping |
 |
| Oldest and Youngest catching ZZzzzzs |
Both guys were un happy with what they were charged and the mechanic left grease on Cipi's bike. The amount quoted on the phone was not what was on the invoice, but hey, in trip repairs can't be controlled. I learn a few words in Romanian that likely can't be repeated in a family setting.
We were planning to stay in Kerrville, which is at the gate of the three sisters but again, listening to the locals, we change the plan and ride to Fredricksberg. This is German country and Fredericksberg is the centre of that culture. Our visit to the Alamo is another victim of the Big Bend decision.
The roads start changing again. Instead of flat land, we start so see some hills that become more frequent the farther we get from San Antonio. We are in hill country and this is what we came for. Twisty roads, rivers in the valley. It's a different Texas.
The best western in town doesn't like motorcyclists. The cranky old man behind the counter quotes us an unusually high rate, no AAA, $20 extra for each of the people beyond 2 in the room. ????? what happens if father and 2 sons get a room, $20 bucks for the extra kid???, $40 bucks if he brought his wife???
We find the comfort inn at a great rate and are advised that Friedhelm's Bavarian Inn is the best German restaurant in the area. It looks like a transplant directly from the south of Germany. Spindles separating tables, cowbells hanging from the ceiling and an excellent bar (according to Cipi) The food is fantastic. Everyone orders schnitzel but I get the sauerbraten. The waitress hears my tales of Oma's food and advises me that the health board would not allow the proprietor to marinate the meat according family recipe so the flavour is there but not as intense. Brings back memories of being a kid. Oma used to put the roast into a glazed clay pot with vinegar and spices for a week (or more). Recently my Mom and I were discussing the method and she wondered if it was healthy but we never got sick. I think the vinegar and salt kill any bacteria and allow the meat to age and take on the spices. Anyways, this was a wonderful reminder of happy times as a kid.
Cipi started the meal in a foul mood from the dealer experience, but we ply him with a few beers and the food surprises him by how good it is. By the time we get back to the hotel, he is laughing again.
Tomorrow is the fun day. Three sisters and ride to Big Bend.
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