Life's Adventures

Team IBA - Bun Burner 1000

2009-07-05T16:56:00.011-05:00

"Bun Burner 1000"
1000 miles in less than 24 hours!
Left Katy at 4AM on 10/18/08. Rode to Balmorhea, TX and back arriving a little after midnight.

Riders:
Uncle Fester
Trash
GQ

Fredericksburg 4/26/08 - 5/4/08

2009-07-05T15:31:00.015-05:00

Not wanting to break our yearly tradition of terrorizing the "Hill Country", we headed off to Fredricksburg once again for a week of relaxation and great riding. This year we were joined by a new member of the gang that flew down from Utah to make the trek with us. (photos)

'08 crew:

Uncle Fester - a.k.a. Gene Sandifer

Iceman - a.k.a. Terry Wingate

Tailgunner - a.k.a. JoAnn Wingate

Fearless - a.k.a. Terry McElmurry

GQ - a.k.a. Tim McElmurry

We stayed at Das Fritz once again and let Fearless stay in the Fu-Fu room... IceMan had his brand new 2008 Harley Road King. For the first time in all of our riding together IceMan actually enjoyed riding at highway speed (he now had a windshield to hide behind).

Since Fearless flew down he didn't have his Harley with him so he rode my RK and I took the BMW. It was funny to see how many people gave me a thumbs up because I was riding a Beemer rather than a Harley... Fearless got his name because he had no problem matching the Beemer going through the curves...

We introduced our new member to all of the usual haunts including Gruene, Luckenbach, Leaky, the Three Sisters, and of course Coopers BBQ. We managed to get to Coopers twice this trip because we had a few extra days!!! Fearless did us proud by devouring his 3" pork chop in record time.

One night as I was about to drift off to dreams of blue sky and winding roads, Uncle Fester whispered across the room wanting to know if I brought the fake oil slick with me. I had forgotten all about the slick, but I guess the thought of IceMan riding a brand new RK brought it to UF's mind. Next morning I discretely checked my cycle bag for the item and much to our delight it was there. We knew the IM would come out soon for his daily bike polishing exercise so I hastily placed the slick in the right spot to indicate a leak in the primary and then retreated to the house. Sure enough, within minutes IM sauntered out of his room with polishing rag in hand.

You would have thought we were all a bunch of high school kids. Everyone except IM gathered at the dinning room window where we could get a good view of the terror on IM's face when he discovered his misfortune. He began polishing the bike and after making two complete rounds we figured that he was either blind or on to the trick and was playing it cool. TailGunner couldn't stand the pressure any more so she went out to check on IM and just as she was walking up we heard what we had all been waiting for "You're Not Going to Believe This!!!" IM had finally looked down at the slick. We let him sweat for a couple of minutes and then let him in on the gag. Just like the time the trick was played on UF, IM was too relieved to find out that it wasn't real to get mad at us.

This was probably the most relaxing trip we have been on. We were not rushed for time and the weather cooperated for the most part so we managed to get in some good riding and also spend some time just visiting.

Big Bend Spring of '08

2009-05-31T18:11:00.008-05:00

The trees are putting on new leaves, the birds are singing, the bees are humming and the Harleys are rumbling! Time for the annual Spring ride to Big Bend!!!

This time Uncle Fester and I talked Trash (a.k.a. John Case) into going with us. Ice Man (Terry Wingate) said he was busy... Guess the trip to Big Bend last Fall was too much for him.
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBend32708#5184073425386141362

We left on 3/27 at dawns early light. Trash was riding his newest acquisition, a 198? Kawasaki Voyager. UF and I were on our Road Kings (UF's was brand new!). By now I had all the leaks plugged on my RK so we were hoping for a ride without mechanical problems... (see Fall of '07 ride for explanation). We took the usual route, heading out I-10, down Hwy 90 to Del Rio and then over to Aspen. We usually try to stop in Marathon the first day but all of the hotels in Marathon were full this time.

We made a gas stop in Hondo which is on Hwy 90 between San Antonio and Del Rio. Since the oil problems of the previous trip were still fresh on our minds I thought I would have a little fun. My daughter bought me a fake "oil spill" for Christmas which I brought along with me on the trip. While UF and Trash were talking about world hunger, I discretely place the oil spill under UF's brand new Road King and then placed a call to a friend at the office so I wouldn't look suspicious. UF finished with the topic of world hunger and began to explain to Trash the benefits of owning a Road King. While he was pointing out some of the RK's better features he spotted the pool of oil under his bike. I thought he was going to have a stroke. All Trash could say was "that doesn't look good". They both just stared at the oil trying to figure out where it could be coming from. Trash got down on his knees and ran his hand along the bottom of the engine to see if he could find the leak. Finally, he decided to put his finger in the oil to sample it. I guess he was going to give it the taste test. He seemed puzzled that the oil was congealed??? Finally he picked it up and handed it to UF. At this point, I could no longer contain myself and burst out laughing. Looking back, I think the only reason UF didn't kill me on the spot (he and Trash are both Marines and I'm not) was because he was so relieved to find out that his new bike had not sprung a leak... I know, it was a childish prank, but I sure had fun!!!

This trip we managed to get to Aspen, TX before dark. We stayed in a 96 year old hotel called the Holland Hotel. Nice rooms and good restaurant.

The next morning we rode from Aspen to Marathon and then into the park. It was pretty cool starting out. At one point between Aspen and Marathon we came around one of the high plateaus and the temperature suddenly dropped about 10 degrees and the wind blew at about 30 mph. It was cold! We rode to the park headquarters and looked around for a while and then decided to go to the Rio Grande River inside the park and walk across to Mexico (wet backs in reverse). By now it was blazing hot and we were wishing for some of that cool air.
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBend32708#5184073988026857250
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBend32708#5184076543532398930

After sneaking back across the boarder from Mexico, we headed out the West gate of the park towards Fort Davis where we were to spend the night. Trash's bike started to act up. I would die on him as he was running along, but after sitting for a few minutes it would start back up. We could not figure out what was causing the problem but fortunately managed to make it into Fort Davis. We stayed at the Limpia Inn and this time the owner gave us the downstairs suite. Fantastic accommodations. We had great dinner at the hotel restaurant, once again eating Buttermilk pie for dessert.

Next morning, Trash's bike appeared to be healed. It fired right up so we decided to press on. We rode through the Davis mountains and took 118 along the western side of the mountain ridge towards I-10. Trash has a tendency to slow down while taking pictures and then catch up with us, so when we noticed that he was falling behind we took no notice of it, at least until we lost sight of him. UF and I pulled over to wait on him and just about the time we decided that we should turn around to go look for Trash, he came over the ridge and pulled along side of us. The problem wasn't picture taking, it was the bike. The bike would do fine going down hill (what bike wouldn't) but it had no power going uphill (sounds like a Star Trek problem - where is Scotty when you need him?). We still had no idea what the problem was, but figured that as long as the bike would run we should keep moving. After all, we were in the middle of nowhere and no one was coming by to help.

We made it to Kent, TX (not on most maps) which is at the intersection of I-10 and 118. The only thing in Kent is a gas station, which is good because it was time to gas up. We all filled our tanks and two of us started our bikes. Trash's bike refused to start. Previously we were able to push start the bike so we tried this tactic again, but to no avail. It was dead and was not going any further. This was the beginning of a long two day ride back to Katy.
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBend32708#5184077393935923698 UF - The bird slayer
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBend32708#5184077600094353938 Trash - Dead bike walking

As I mentioned, Kent is not on some maps and the closest town is 50 miles away. We had no idea what the problem was and no way to get the bike to a mechanic. Trash decided to call his beautiful and loving wife (Cindy) and have her bring their truck to Kent so he could haul the bike home. Now Kent is about 560 miles from Katy so this was not a matter of waiting a couple of hours. I suggested to Trash that the problem might be a dead battery even though the symptoms didn't really point to it. Since his wife would not be showing up for quite some time, we decided that I should make a run to Pecos, get a new battery at the Walmart, and give it a shot. Three hours later we had the battery installed and the bike fired right up!

A little side note... while I was gone getting the battery a group of Christian bikers doing an "Iron Butt" stopped in Kent to gas up, and while they were there they blessed UF's and Trash' bikes. I missed out on the blessing :-( but at least Trash's bike was running.

Our plan had been to ride to Llano to spend the night, but by now it was late afternoon and we were about 360 miles out. We made a change in plans and told Cindy to meet us in Junction to spent the night at the Best Western. We arrived about 8 PM, had a quick dinner at the local DQ and hit the hay.

The reason we wanted to spend the night in Llano was so we could eat at Coopers. Not to be undone, the next morning we all left Junction, rode to Llano and ate lunch at Coopers. Everything seemed to be back on track. Bellies full, we left Coopers and headed towards home.

We three bikers took the back roads towards home and Cindy took the main roads so she could get home sooner. We were crossing I-35 south of Austin when Trash got a call from his distraught wife saying that the truck was acting up. In fact, instead of being ahead of us, she was stopped at a local cafe 20 miles behind us. Turns out that the transmission on the truck was going out so she was having trouble keeping up with traffic. We all ended up taking the back roads home, arriving safely in Katy a little after dark.

I think Cindy will perform a maintenance check on Trash's bike before his next ride...

Big Bend Fall of 2007

2009-05-31T16:08:00.005-05:00

Uncle Fester and I decided it was time to see Big Bend in the Fall of the year so we talked Ice Man into joining us and headed out on Thursday October 25th for a four day round trip ride. This was the first time I had seen Ice Man riding solo. His better half had to work, but this didn't keep IM from going! One thing I like about he and his wife is they are always ready to ride...

We were making good time heading to Marathon via Del Rio. We made a short stop in Del Rio to gas up and get a drink. I was suiting up to resume our ride when I looked down to see a pool of Texas Tea, Black Gold, Bubbling Crude under my ride. Unlike the Beverly Hillbillies, I was not jumping for joy. I initially tried to explain it away by saying that the last guy left this behind, but as I watched the pool grow I realized that I was that guy. We all looked at each other in disbelief, knowing that this was not a good way to start a four day trip and wondering what to do next. As we were standing there scratching our heads, a local walked up to admire the bikes. I asked him if there was anyone in Del Rio that could perform first aid on a Harley, not really expecting him to be able to help. Surprisingly, he knew just where to go.

There is a true chop shop just as you come into Del Rio on Hwy 90 staffed by tattooed mechanics. They had the gasket sets and the mechanic was willing to work late to try and plug the leak (by now it was about 3PM). At about 7Pm they finished with the surgery and told us we could put the patient on the road. We put on our gear and prepared to head out when Ice Man let out an "I can't believe this"!!! Seems that he left his headlights on and his battery was dead as a stump. I thought Uncle Fester was going to jump off his bike and strangle IM. Of course I couldn't say a word as we had already spent about four hours sitting around the shop waiting on my bike repairs. You probably would think, no problem, how long can it take to jump start a bike? Well it took about an hour. Twenty minutes to get the seat of and jump start the bike. Another forty minutes to get the seat back on. I watched as three guys tried for forty minutes to get two bolts in place.
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBendFall07#5126961939511420962
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBendFall07#5126962029705734226
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBendFall07#5126962076950374514

By now it was close to 9PM and we had another 175 miles to go before arriving in Marathon. It was hot riding through the day, so riding at night might be a plus... Well, there were a whole lot more negatives than this one plus. The problem with riding in West Texas at night is the night creatures come out in force. No, I'm not talking about the drunks. These are a lot worse. The deer, coyote, skunks, pigs, etc. all like to come out after the sun goes down, and you can't see them until you're on top of them. Hitting one of these a full speed is not something you want to do if you can possibly avoid it. Someone might ask why we didn't just spend the night in Del Rio and continue our journey the next day. The answer to that is easy... we are guys. We didn't want to pay for two hotel rooms and we are not afraid of anything (at least that we will admit to one another).

Once all three bikes were running we mounted up and headed on to Marathon at 45 mph. Even at the posted speed limit of 75 mph and riding during the daytime where you can look at the scenery, the run from Del Rio to Marathon can get tedious. When your doing it in the dark at 45 mph and the truckers are running up on you doing 80 mph and the herds of deer are staring at you from the side of the road, the run gets realllllyyyy long. Uncle Fester and Ice Man were glad at this stage of the trip that they were not riding "point". They hung back hoping that if I went down they would have time to stop without hitting whatever took me down. Figuring that the only defense I had against the wild life was my headlights and making noise, I decided to sound my air horn every fifteen seconds. Let's see... 175 miles at 45 mph, sounding the air horn every fifteen seconds... that comes to about 930 blasts of the horn. The other two later told me that they would have cut the wires to my horn if I would have pulled over. I guess my plan worked because we managed to avoid making road kill. That being said, I think Uncle Fester puckered up one time along the way. We were rounding a curve near Marathon and off to the side I saw a black cat with a white strip getting ready to cross the road. Not wanting to run over the little fellow, I honked loud and long to warn it to turn around. Well it worked. As I roared by I saw the little fellow turn around and raise its tail to thank me for not running it over. Uncle Fester has a different story to tell, but this is the way I saw it...

We arrived at the Marathon RV and Cabin park at about 1AM Friday. The owner had long sense gone to bed but left the keys to our rooms in an envelope by the door to the office. Hooray, we had made it and could now go to bed... Not so fast - where were the rooms? The map on the office door showed where one of the rooms was located but did not show the other room. We wandered around the RV grounds for about 45 minutes with one flashlight, trying to find the one missing room. To this day I don't know how we managed to avoid being shot for prowlers. IM finally worked up enough courage, or just didn't care anymore if he got shot, and walked up a flight of stairs to the one place that did not have a room number. He tried the key in the door and walked victoriously into his room.
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBendFall07#5126962124195014802

The next morning was beautiful. It was rather cool, but the sky was clear. We were slow getting up and going since we were still recovering from the events of the day (night, morning) of the day before. We ate some great taquitos at the little cafe' in the park, and lounged around to give the sun time to warm things up. I think it was about 11 AM when we finally headed into Big Bend park.

When we planned this trip UF and I thought it would be fun to take a new route and ride the "river road" that runs along the US/Mexican border from Terlingua to Presidio. We were right. It was like riding a roller coaster on Harleys, only the ride lasted a lot longer. It was a good thing IM was riding solo this time. We arrived in Fort Davis just as the sun was setting, and lodged at a quaint old hotel called the Limpia Inn. I highly recommend this place if you are looking for relaxing accommodations.
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBendFall07#5127335073385195874
http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/BigBendFall07#5127334845751929058

If you've followed this story closely, you will notice that up to this point we never really had a chance to eat a good lunch or dinner. Well that all changed this night. We dined at the Hotel's restaurant which turned out to be an excellent establishment. I should say that UF and I dinned. IM was too tired to drag himself to the restaurant and promptly went to his room to crash. Maybe that's why he's so thin and UF and I are... The food and service were fantastic, and with some prodding UF was introduced to Buttermilk pie (now one of his favorite desserts).

Saturday we got up an rode to Llano, TX the home of Cooper's BBQ. The three of us had been drooling for three day in anticipation of eating at Coopers! This leg of the trip was uneventful, except for IM getting beat to death by his chaps and jacket fringe. See, IM doesn't have a windshield on his bike. We've been trying for years to talk him into upgrading to a long hauler instead of something "stylish". This may be the trip that pushes him over the edge... Cooper's lived up to it's reputation. After eating half a cow and a quarter of a pig, we waddled to our rooms and slept like babies.

Sunday is always the longest day because we know the that fun is coming to an end. To make matters worse, when I got up Sunday morning I notice a new pool of oil under my RK. Seems that the repair job was not up to par. We decided that the leak was slow enough that we could head out but keep an eye on the oil level. By the time we reached Gonzales, I noticed that the leak was no longer a drip but more like a dribble... Here it was, Sunday afternoon in Gonzales, Texas and your Harley is leaking. What are the odds that you can find anyone open who can help. Fortunately, an owner of an auto repair shop answered his phone and said that he had some gasket material. He was not open for business but since he was in the shop doing some work he would help us out. He gave us the gasket material and UF and I used his pocket knife to cut a new gasket for the transmission inspection cover. This slowed the leak enough that we could make it the rest of the way home.

Due to the field repairs we once again arrived home after dark, but at least we didn't have to fight the deer... just the motorists.

Epilogue:
I tried twice to repair the leak, on my own, and finally took the bike to a great mechanic who repaired it. FYI, it took him two tries also, but he succeeded.

Utah, I'm Back...

2007-11-13T20:35:00.000-06:00

9/21/07 - 9/24/07
Well I didn't bring my own bike back to Utah, like I said I would last year, and take a leisurely tour of the state. But I did come back a year later and spend three days seeing the sites rather than trying to do everything in one day like the previous mad dash. That being said, you can't do Utah justice in three days or three weeks.

This time I rode with my newly converted brother. I think the turning point in his conversion was when I took him to the Galveston, Texas bike rally in November of last year and he saw all the cool looking chops. After months of sending him subliminal messages he finally buckled and bought himself a Softtail. He tells me he rides almost every day. I still don't have a picture of his ride so I can't show it to you but he tells me that it's got bling. I'll have to get one of his kids to send me a picture since he is technology challenged...

Terry and I haven't spent this much time together since the day he left home for college, some forty years ago... so needless to say we had a lot of catching up to do. As usual, I planned an aggressive riding schedule that started at sunup and ended at sunset and covered half of the state of Utah. In the end we covered about half of the trek and both of us were glad that we took a more leisurely trip. Can't say I'm not flexible.

Terry and his wife Gina met me at the Eagle Rider rental shop near the SLC airport at a little after noon on 9/21/07. Gina was a little nervous about our heading out for three days but I assured her that we would both be fine... good thing she doesn't watch the bike show on the Speed channel.
I rented a RK since that's it's the best bike on the road (don't tell my BMW I said that), and Terry rented a Softail... go figure. He didn't ride his own bike because he didn't want to get bugs on the windshield. It probably was a good thing since we road through some nasty weather the last day.

The first day was a short one since we didn't get away from the rental shop until 2PM. We made a short run down highway 15 and then jogged east on 92 to ride along the Upper Alpine Loop in Uinta National Fores. The weather was perfect and the leaves were just beginning to change colors. I was on cloud nine. We left the park and headed for Price, Utah taking 189 to 40, then south on 191 to 10. There's not much to say about Price, but the bed at the motel was well received after flying all morning and riding all afternoon.

The next morning we embarked on our journey to our second night's stopover - Escalante, Utah. It was a little brisk in the morning but by mid day we were doing well. We took 10 south to Hwy 70 and then West to Salina. After a brief stretch break (yeah I know I'm a slave driver) we turned south on 24. We caught Scenic Highway 12 a little past the town of Torrey, which took us into Escalante. There's a reason they call it "Scenic" Hwy 12. You ride through the bottom of a canyon and then climb to the top of the canyon to run along a ridge they call "the Hogback". The ridge is two lanes and two shoulders wide, with a canyon on both sides. It was a spectacular view. We stopped on the ridge to look at the view and you could hear the wind howling through the canyons. It was about this time that Terry explained about his fear of heights and suggested that we should move on so we wouldn't be riding in the dark... I'm not too fond of heights either, but in this case I was too impressed with the sights and sounds to think about it. We had fair weather most of the day but as we approached the town of Escalante we ran into a brief shower. Not enough to stop us but enough to force us to put on our rain gear.

Escanlante is a small town but it has a great B&B and at least one great restaurant. The restaurant we ate at is owned by a lady biker who had to sell her motorcycle to pay bills. She keeps a jar on the checkout counter that's for contributions for a replacement bike. I had to throw in a few bills... She was quite a character and made the meal entertaining with her stories.

At breakfast we met a local couple (local to Utah) staying at the B&B. They were spending the weekend collecting rocks. Charley (the bearded one in the photo) has a Ultra Classic with every option known to man. He says that when he and his wife ride together and he has the bike fully loaded for cross country tripping, they weigh in at 1400 lbs. Imagine trying to hold that up at the traffic light. Charley said he had been to Texas once in his life and he would not return. Claims that every small town sheriff along his route stopped him and searched his car. After he showed me a photo of himself in his former life I understood. He looked like a drug runner for the Mexican mafia. By the way, I can highly recommend the B&B. The owner is very friendly and a fantastic cook.

The third day was cold - in Houston terms. I put on as many garments as I had with me and then put my rain gear over that. I was OK, but found it hard to move. Our first stop was Bryce Canyon National Park. Along the way passed "The Grand Staircase" monument. The staircase is comprised of three distinct plateaus, each level rising several hundred feet above the other. It really looks like a giant staircase to heaven.

It would be an understatement to say that Bryce Canyon is a popular international tourist stop. There were so many buses I thought I was on the Houston HOV. Terry thought it would be fun to show his younger brother who was still boss, so he suggested that we hike part way down one of the canyon trails. The rock formations were surreal. Going down was a piece of cake, but when we started back up I quickly found that there was a shortage of air in the canyons. Terry had obviously developed gills as a result of living at altitude for 20+ years, but this flat lander hadn't evolved. I had to stop every 5o feet to catch my breath. The only thing that kept me going was the realization that there was no other option, and the little old ladies who kept passing me by on their way up. Maybe I should substitute a little walking for some of my riding time... nah.

From Bryce Canyon we headed west to Dixie National Forest. Here is where we saw giant lava flows that cut 50 yard wide swaths through the dense forest, running for miles in both directions. In Dixie National Forest is another series of canyons which can be seen best at Cedar Breaks National Monument. We didn't hike these canyons. I'm a fast learner. Turning north we ran past lakes and through forests to our last nights stopover in Richfield, Utah.

The morning of the fourth day was really cold, even for Utah standards. I couldn't find enough cloths to put on. During the night the clouds dumped a load of snow on the mountains we had ridden through the day before. We took off for SLC running up Hwy 70 to Hwy 50 and then cutting over to Hwy 15. We ran into a little sleet on Hwy 50 but the worst was the cold. Terry didn't have heavy gloves with him and his fingers were loosing their feeling. We tried to find a store with some gloves, but we were in the middle of nowhere. It got so bad that he finally wrapped his fingers with Duct tape and then put his summer riding gloves back on. This made it tolerable. All the way back to SLC we keep skirting the rain storms. When we got to Provo the rain clouds were stalled right across our path. We camped out in a Starbucks hoping the storm would pass. We couldn't afford to wait too long because I had a plane to catch so after about 45 minutes we put our heads down and bore through the pouring rains. As soon as we got past Provo the rains stopped... go figure. By the time we reached the Eagle Rider shop we were pretty well dried out. At least I didn't have to fly back to Houston wearing wet cloths.

All in all this trip is at the top of the list of trips I've been on. Terry and I had a great time visiting with each other and he got to see parts of Utah that he had never seen before. Should we do Yellowstone in 2008???

Go here to see all of the photos...

http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/EscalanteBasinRide

24 Hours and Three States

2006-07-02T18:49:00.000-05:00

I had the good fortune this week to rent a Harley Davidson Ultra Glide for 24 hours and ride through some of the most beautiful Utah, Wyoming, and Nevada scenery you could ask for… Of course, as usual I was short on time so I didn’t have a chance to stop and smell the roses, or cacti. My buddy and I picked up our Ultras on Thursday evening at 4:30, and by dark we had ridden to Evanston, Wyoming and then to his house in Provo – right at 200 miles. In keeping with all of my previous treks, we ran into rain early in the ride and at one point had to go down a dirt road since the paving ran out. No Uncle Fester, I didn’t have my GPS along so it wasn’t due to the GPS being possessed. My buddy couldn’t read his Blackberry map so we turned on the wrong road heading out of Evanston. Turns out, it was to our benefit as the road we had intended to take was deluged with heavy rains, lightning and even snow, and the route we ended up taking took us through one of the most beautiful valleys I have ever laid eyes on.

The next morning we got up bright and early to see if we could make it to Great Basin National Park in Nevada and back in time to turn in our bikes by 4:30. Vern’s wife (Fawna) decided she needed to come along to keep us out of trouble. She and Vern got up even earlier to make a trial run so she could test his driving skills. I admit that I had my doubts about her stamina but she proved to be a real trooper. We went through three mountain passes and one huge desert, covering just over 450 miles and she had a smile on her face the whole time. I guess the rear seat of the Ultras is more comfortable than the driver’s seat ‘cause I was sure soar by the time we pulled into the rental lot.

Unfortunately pictures just don’t do the scenery justice. I was consistently awe struck by the expanses of desert, immensity of the snow capped mountains, colors of the sky, and smells of trees, bushes and flowers along the way. When we started out the temperature was in the high 60’s but by the time we started back across the desert it was easily breaking 100. About the time we were beginning to notice the desert heat (yes, we road with leather jacket, gloves, and helmet – but I never broke into a sweat), we began climbing into the mountains where the temperature dropped to the low 70’s. On this run we managed to avoid the rains up until the very last. Fortunately we were in the showers for only 15-20 minutes and by the time we got to the main highway the skies were clear again and we had dried out.
I could have ridden for weeks in northern Utah. There are so many mountain passes and valleys to run through that you would never get bored with the view. I’m going to have to figure out a way to get up there with my own bike so I can take my time touring… Until then, I’ll be content with the appetizer I had this week.

25 Years and Counting

2006-06-15T20:34:00.000-05:00

My bride of 25 years and I took an eight day vacation in Arkansas to celebrate our anniversary. We found a beautiful lodge in the Ozark Mountains that was so remote that the cell phone didn't work. It was great.... We took our time getting there (three days in total) which is something unusual for me. I usually drive like a bat out of hell to get from point A to point B, but this time we didn't rush. We stopped the first night in Texarkana.

The second night we stayed in Mount Magazine State Park in their new lodge. It had only been open for two weeks. Mount Magazine is the highest point in Arkansas. On our way there, we took a side trip to Queen Wilhelmina State Park to eat lunch at a lodge that my folks have frequented over the years. A group of motorcyclists rode up while we were there and when I asked where they were from one of the guys said he was from Katy, Texas. Who'd a guessed!!!

My lovely bride was gracious enough to let me take trailer my Road King up there so I spent one day riding through the mountains and a couple of other days I took a two hour sorte. I'll have to say that a BMW Sport Touring bike would have been a better fit for some of those mountain switch backs. One day we went to Eureka Springs to see the Passion Play. If you're up that way I would recommend carving out some time for the play. Most of the time we were there, we just took it easy. Our goal was to unwind and we succeeded. If you'd like to see pictures from our trip go to: http://tumphotos.blogspot.com/

The Three Sisters

2006-04-11T21:35:00.000-05:00

Well the time finally came for our much anticipated annual Hill Country cycle ride. We left out on Thursday morning April 20th at about 7:30 AM (I wanted to sleep in but Uncle Fester was chomping at the bit to go) for a four day weekend. Terry and Joan rode on his Softail, Uncle Fester rode his Ultra Classic, and I rode my Road King. Donna, Sharon, Lauren, and Katherine gave chase in the Tahoe (a three wheeler with a spare tire). We headed west along the southern route of old Highway 90, which takes you through Eagle Lake, Gonzales and into Seguin.

We took a quick stretch and feeding break in Gonzales...

Uncle Fester getting his jacket let out after breakfast...

From Seguin, we headed north on 46 passing through New Braunsfels and stopping for lunch in Gruene. No, you don't pronounce Gruene like it looks, you pronounce it "green" - I was corrected several times and finally gave in...

I've never seen a group that studied the menu so intently...

In the town of Gruene there is a dance hall that they claim is the oldest still operating dance hall in Texas. I always wonder who validates these claims??? I didn't get a picture of the dance hall...
While we were eating lunch it started to drizzle. We had not encountered any rain up to this point even though the forecast said there was a 30 percent chance of scattered thunder storms. Well, the drizzle soon turned to rain so we hid out in the general store and antique shop hoping it would blow through. After two hours of killing time we decided that it wasn't going to clear so we downed our rain gear and headed out at a cautious pace. Little did we know the we were being watched over. During the two hour delay in Gruene, a terrible storm blew through Fredericksburg and the surrounding area; flooding the roads and dropping hail stones. When we pulled into Luckenbach, the normally slow moving clear stream that meanders through the town was a raging torrent of muddy water carrying with it tree branches and other debris. The street was strewn with leaves and small branches that had been knocked out of the trees by the hail. We found the same situation further on in Fredericksburg. If we had not waited in Gruene for two hours we would have been in the middle of this ferocious storm and with no protection.

Later I learned that to the North of us the town of San Marcos had hail stones the size of grapefruits. Imagine getting hit by one of those while toddling down the highway at 50mph on your cycle. It was as if God kept us in the eye of the hurricane. Other than getting mud on our bikes we arrived at our weekend retreat no worse for the wear.

The place we rented this year was about 8 miles northwest of Fredericksburg. I was a remodeled stone house that was built over 100 years ago.

When we arrived at the house, we were greeted by Snoopy. Turns out Snoopy was better than a bug zapper. He would eat the June bugs attracted by the lights on the front porch. Terry would knock the bugs off the wall and Snoopy would devour them with a crunch, which made Katherine laughed so hard her stomach started hurting.

Even though Terry's right hand is visibly deformed in this photo, I posted it anyway since it was such a good shot of Joan...

Terry refused to be seen on a dirty bike, so first thing Friday morning we had to go to the car wash and knock some of the road grime off before heading to Enchanted Rock.
After making our cycles presentable, we rode to Enchanted Rock, with the ladies following along in the "three wheeler with a spare". We let those who needed to prove that they are still young climb to the top of the mountain.

No, we didn't try to go to the top. We were happy to track the others from below.

I just don't know why these two never trust my GPS...

From ER we headed to Coopers to over indulge in every kind of BBQ meat you can imagine. Once we finished gorging ourselves at Coopers, the girls headed back to the hacienda and the riders headed to Marble Falls, Willow City and then back to Fredericksburg.

Just to maintain consistency with other rides that we have been on, we made sure we went down a dirt road for about 8 or 9 miles on or way to Willow City (blasted GPS doesn't show paved versus dirt roads... It just shows that there is a road). The cool part of the off road experience was that it took us past an old abandoned railroad tunnel where we saw thousands upon thousands of bats flying out for a late afternoon bug run. We also got to play chicken with a cow. Her horns gave her the edge.

Terry said something about needing to go into town to "get some cash"...

Saturday dawned with an overcast sky even though the weather man said clear blue. What a great job to have... Fortunately, the skies cleared by about noon and we had bright sunshine and mild temperatures the rest of the day. This was good because Saturday was our day to ride the Three Sisters and you don't want to do that in the rain. Those of you who are bikers and have ridden in the Texas hill country will know what the three sisters are... For the rest of you - the three sisters are some of the pretties, most twisted, and most hilly roads you can ride in that area. The name comes from the fact that they are three highways (335, 336, and 337) that make a loop, with the little town of Leakey at one of the crossroads. If you've never been to Leakey, you need to put it on the list of things to do before you die (unless you're not a cycle enthusiast in which case there's no reason to go).

Here we are stopped at Leakey for a lunch break. Terry is telling Uncle Fester that we should have turned left about five miles back. The seventh grade class of Leakey was selling burgers to raise money to go to Big Bend. They should have been able to raise all they needed in one day since all it takes to get to Big Bend from Leakey is a tank of gas...

After making our contribution to the seventh grade class, gawking at the long line of motorcycles lining the streets, and resting our rears, we gassed up and ran the last two runs of the three sisters. Again, maintaining consistency with previous rides, we hit about a ten mile stretch of gravel road where they had torn up one of the three sisters to do road repairs. It wasn't the GPS's fault this time!!! We had a fun ride, seeing all kinds of wild life (not the two legged kind, even though they too were interesting). We saw elk, kangaroo, zebra, camel, cattle in the middle of the road, deer, and a dead porcupine on the side of the road.

We gassed up and headed home on Sunday, making a quick stop in Blanco to go shopping and have lunch. Blanco sports a small cycle shop that mostly sells cloting and boots, but down in the basement of the shop is a guy that moved from Sturgis and makes custom leather riding gear. I got a great looking leather vest with a screaming eagle patch on the back.

Uncle Fester's parting words as he was leaving my house were "where to next?" I don't know about him, but I'm heading to Arkansas next for my 25th wedding anniversary.

Sunday Ride

2006-04-03T22:12:00.000-05:00

Remember when you were a kid and your family would go for a leisurely ride through the countryside after Church? Well, a few friends and I decided that we needed to see the wild flowers before the summer heat erased all traces of them. Uncle Fester, Troy and I met up in Katy and rode to Tomball, where Terry and Joan joined our parade. We headed through Navasota and on towards Brenham. At one time we had about eight or nine bikes in our group as others fell in behind.

Our plan was to turn south just before Brenham in a little town named Earlywine. The little country road we took out of Earlywine looked promising. The huge oak trees lining the road had grown together to form a green leafed tunnel, and the fields on either side were full of bluebonnets and other vividly colored flowers. We were really enjoying this part of our trip until all of the sudden the well paved road gave way to gravel. If your a Harley rider you will appreciate the significance of this change in road surface. Harleys are not really designed for off road service and most owners take better care of their Harley than their spouse (not saying much for Harley owners). Needless to say, I got a few raise eyebrows from my companions when we finally came to stop at the intersection where the gravel road met with the paved road that I was supposed to have taken them down. Those GPS are nice to have but they really don't show where asphalt ends and gravel begins. Not all of the riders were concerned though. Troy was riding a Honda (a borrowed one at that) and we all know that Honda riders are not as particular about their babies.

Above is the route we took. I'd recommend staying to the west of the Tomball area as there are too many moving road hazards on the weekend.

GQ Man

2006-03-31T00:08:00.000-06:00

2006-03-10T21:54:00.000-06:00

How far can you go in just three days?

Answer:
From Katy to Big Bend and Back.

Day 1 - Almost to Big Bend

3/10/2006
Started off in the fog... not unusual for me since I'm a slow starter in the morning. BTW this is not me, I'm much better looking. This is my back door. He kept the tailgaters off my rear.

We hoped to spend the night in the Basin in Big Bend, but we didn't quite make it. We were one hour shy, but then again we had a great time getting to the front door. We were happier than a couple of hogs in the mud, or in this case Harleys on the road.

We stopped in Columbus to gas up and while there tried to figure out how to take a picture with the two of us in the shot. We were not having much luck. Uncle Fester (wise but not so good looking) was really struggling with the logistics.

Lucky for us a school principal and her teacher daughter, who were escorting a bus load of kids on a field trip, came to our rescue. They too are bikers and recognized that gleeful look in our eyes; that look that comes from escaping the tedium of the office by straddling a motorcyle and letting the wind blow in your face. After telling us about her motorcycle and her daughter's and husband's motorcycles, the mother offered to show us how a group shot is accomplished... I guess that's why she's a principal. She snapped the photo and then gave chase to the bus load of kids that had already departed the truck stop.

We mounted our steeds and headed west at a good clip trying to get to Del Rio by mid day. Other than the obligatory gas and bio breaks we didn't stop. Well, we did take a short pause at a bakery but we counted it as one of our bio breaks.

Just before reaching Del Rio proper I pulled off to the shoulder, with Uncle Fester falling in behind wondering what was wrong. We weren't at a gas station or feeding spot??? I pointed to the road sign and explained that I needed a photo of me in front of the "Laughlin AFB Exit" sign. My brother and my niece both graduated flight school from there and I figured it would be cool to send them a picture of me visiting their old haunt... The brother is retired, but his daughter is flying in Iraq right now.

We stopped in Del Rio long enough to grab a bite at the local Luby's (no we didn't have to duck under the table to hide from a crazy gunman as they have taken to hitting Denny's these days). Topped our tanks at the last gas station heading out of town an proceed to what we thought would be our next refueling stop at Dryden.

Along the way we made a scenic stop at the highest bridge in Texas; the bridge over the Pecos river. It was rather exciting crossing the bridge as the winds were blowing at about 40-50 miles an hour straight into our face.

We made it to Dryden and found out that the single gas station had stopped pumping petrol years ago, so we had to feather our throttles and try to make it to Sanderson. We had been fighting a strong headwind the entire trip out of Del Rio so we weren't getting the usual 40 miles per gallon. Needless to say, we were more than a little concerned about our fuel level and the distance to Sanderson. As it happens, about 8 miles out of Sanderson my engine went into stealth mode (stopped running). We had just come over the last rise before descending into the valley where Sanderson sits so I thought I might be able to coast into town, but my windshield acted like a sail in reverse and brought me to a stop on the side of the highway. When I turned around to see where Uncle Fester was I was surprised to see him on the side of the road about a half a mile behind me. I thought, who in the world would have guessed that we would both run out of gas at exactly the same time??? I started walking back to where he had stopped when I saw his headlight come on and he pulled back on the road to come up to where I was. Turns out he didn't run out of gas after all, he got stung on the side of his head by a kamikaze bee. He couldn't pull over fast enough... ripping his helmet off and making sure the culprit was dead or gone. While he was showing me his battle wound I remembered that my bike has a reserve position on the fuel valve that gives me about half a gallon of fuel. I flipped the valve, started the engine and we went around the last curve into Sanderson. We didn't bother trying to find an Exxon station (Fester works for Exxon) but pulled into the first station we saw...

By now it was late afternoon and we had come to the conclusion that we were not going to make it to the Basin in Big Bend park before dark. You don't want to be riding on the roads in those parts after dark unless you are feeling lucky. The night creatures are very active and many of them like playing in the middle of the road. We decided to press on to the next town, which is Marathon. It is located at the entrance to the park and would provide us with a good launching point the next morning. When we pulled into town we got a little concerned because the street in front of the single hotel was lined with the cars and motorcycles of their guests. I thought we might have to sleep under the stars. Fortunately, they had a room available for the two of us. We ate an early southern dinner and hit the hay early. 450 miles of fighting a head wind had taken the wind out of our sails.

Uncle Fester and General Custer slept here.
The hotel's house pet - one of those "night creatures" I was talking about...

Day 2 - Big Bend and Beyond

Day two dawned cool (about 45 F) and clear. It was colder than Uncle Fester liked it so he was a little slow getting out of the rack and into gear. I think he was stalling to allow the sun time to warm up the seat of his Mutt Slayer (the name he gave his Ultra Classic - yes there is a story here but for another time). We had a leisurely breakfast at a small family owned diner where we watched the locals come and go. If we didn't have about 450 miles to go this day we probably would have sat there all morning drinking our coffee and watching the world pass by. It was great to not be in a rush to get to a meeting... Finally, I convinced Fester that he wouldn't turn into a popsicle so he downed his last swallow of coffee and we headed for our machines. On our way to the bikes we stopped to speak with a gentleman who had spent the week in Marathon riding the back roads. He and his Labrador were heading out from Texas to Arizona to see some more sites. Must be nice to not have to work for a living...

We went South out of Marathon towards Big Bend State Park. It is almost 40 miles from the town of Marathon to the entrance of the park and another 45 miles to the Basin. You can't help but get caught up in the grandeur and beauty of the desert and mountains.

Remember that I said we didn't want to ride through the park at night...

The changes in elevation are so gradual when your riding across the vast expanses of Texas that you don't realize how high some of the plains are. This is an elevation chart from my GPS showing that we went as high as 5800 feet on our trip. Katy is to the left at just above zero.

We spent a little while stretching our legs in the Basin area before heading out towards Alpine. Our plan was to go through the town of Alpine (home of Sul Ross State University) to I-10 and then East on I-10 as far as we could before dark. By the end of the second day we had made it as far as Sonora.
This night we rousted in an abode that was priced more in line with a poor biker... The Best Western. The young lady working the desk that evening was feeling gracious and gave us a Military discount since Uncle Fester had once been a Marine. According to Fester, once a Marine, always a Marine.

Day Three - There's no place like home... There's no place like home.

I don't know about Fester, but if I could have clicked my heels together and been home I might have given it a try... we had ridden hard the past two days and had a hard ride ahead of us. We arose not so early and ate our free breakfast at the hotel. Hey, we never pass up a free meal. The clouds had moved in during the night and we were keeping an eye on them. We sure weren't looking forward to riding back home in the rain. This part of the trip was not near as interesting as the previous two days as most of the trip consisted of watching the lunatics on I-10, and they were out there. At one point we passed a SUV in the ditch, surrounded by spectators and helpers. It appeared to have rolled several time before coming to a stop and the contents of the vehicle were strewn along the side of the road...

One thing that fascinated me on the third day of our trek was the hundreds and hundreds of wind generators we passed perched on the tops of the mesas. There were lines and lines of them all in nice neat rows. I didn't realize that Texas had so many wind turbines in service. I guess they were sifting out the stupid buzzards from the smart buzzards.

Once we got close to San Antonio we took to the back roads. Neither of us wanted to do battle with the rigs and weekend campers on the highway between San Antonio and Houston. Uncle Fester took the lead and did a great job of navigating through the lesser traveled paths, at least until he made a wrong turn on the other side of Seguin. I think he may have done this on purpose just to give me a chance to prove the worth of my GPS. I told him that this magic box could lead us home and he believed me (or humored me). Anyway, we let the GPS guide us to Katy along some roads that neither one of us had traversed. After a few stops to "calibrate" our position we finally arrived back at my house at 5:03PM, bringing to an end what both of us considered to be a perfect trip. In true biker fashion our parting words were, "where do we go next, and when"?

Rain Drops are Falling on My Head...

2004-09-25T18:21:00.000-05:00

Galveston rally 9/25/04
Sandy Sandifier - a.k.a. Uncle Fester
John Case - a.k.a. Trash
Tim McElmurry - a.k.a. GQ
Terry Wingate - a.k.a. Iceman
Joann Wingate - EvilEye

With hopes of seeing some cool bikes and weird riders we left for the Galveston bike rally before dawn, meeting at the Exxon gas station in Katy. What we saw were giant raindrops and deep water. Two of our party, Iceman and EvilEye started out on their bike but quickly chickened out and returned for their pickup truck. This was my first meeting of Iceman and EvilEye and I'll have to say I was disappointed in their sense of adventure but admired their common sense.

We made it to Webster before it started to rain on us. The rain was intermittent from their to just north of Galveston. As we got onto the bridge to the island the skies opened up with a sold sheet of water. When we hit the transition on the other side where you go from the bridge to the main road our bikes submerged about a foot under water. Now we were total soaked sinck our boots were now full of water. Fortunately we we were to stop about a block up to have breakfast and join up with the smart couple in the truck.

After a freezing breakfast we hung around until it looked like we had a window of opportunity where we could go to the rally site without riding in the rain. We headed over to the rally, and while in route watch a couple of motorcyclist bite the pavement as they tried to stop on the wet roads. Made us even more cautious than we already were...

Even with the rain, the rally was pretty well attended. Seems that a lot of folks come down the night before so they can party all night and then hit the exhibitions about noon. We stood on the crowded boardwalk in the warehouse area and watched the parade of bike roll and slide down the main drag.

After walking around for a couple of hours we road over to the seawall to watch more riders. I was told that in years past there would be a continual parade of bikes along the seawall. This year it was sporadic. After letting our boots and socks dry on the wall we decided to head back home. Three drowned rats...

Go here for photos of the rally... http://picasaweb.google.com/GQman1/GalvestonRally04#