Great West Texas Ride - now known as the Texas Toeless Boot Tour (- that's what it looks like on the map!)
A week out, and the weather forecast for today in some of the Texas cities we plan to visit is over 100 degrees. But it forecasts cooling by next Sunday, when my husband, Mike, and I start our motorcycle ride. It also forecasts some rain during this week, hopefully we won’t have to start in rain. We might want it on the more westerly parts of the ride. Wonder how the winery would like two sodden bikers showing up to taste wine? Probably better than two sweaty ones....
So the route has been scrutinized for construction against the Texas DOT website. Despite knowing that weather is impossible to predict, the forecast is checked daily. The hotel is reserved and relatives warned. We’re looking forward to cruising roads we might have driven years ago, and many we never had a reason to take. Will we have room to pick up some Dublin Dr. Pepper? Guess it depends on how well we pack. We’re minimizing clothes, hoping to run a wash during the week so we don’t have to re-wear sweaty stuff - whew!
Mike has a sheepskin-over-gel pad for his seat, I think I’d better find a sheepskin for me. It’s amazing how uncomfortable those previously comfy jeans get in the heat. His experience riding in 100 plus temps is that it’s, well, hot. Sweaty. Rinse your shirt when you stop, your bandana, drink lots of fluids.
Now it’s two days to show, and hopefully things are as set as they can be. Ipods are loaded with riding music, camera battery is charged (as are the laptop, phone, ipod....) Full color maps and driving directions are printed. The TX DOT website doesn’t show any construction for the ride, so we hope we’ve woven a path around it all. Bikes are tuned up and loaded and on the trailer ready to be hauled to Texas. It would be nice to have time to ride them there, but that’s for later, when the little nest egg is considered sufficient to support full-time riding. Hmmm, does Discovery want a show of a retired couple cruising the country on their motorcycles?
And so, I go over the ride again in my mind. The turns, the farm roads (that are nearly highways in Texas) the real highways. I’ve love to pour over it on the satellite imagery again, checking to be sure I’ve found the best route. Hopefully my sheepskin seat pad will arrive in Round Rock today, so I know it’s there. I’d love to check out the small town websites again, to make sure I haven’t missed any little stops that might offer unique photographs. I’d also like a really good nap! (On the plane?) Half the fun is the planning, the anticipation, the “can I predict?” factor. But the real fun is the road, the ride, the little stops, folks you meet and end up wishing you had another hour to chat. Places you mean to return to for a longer visit.
This time next week I hope to have another 1,000 miles on my odometer, a few hundred photos to peruse, and tales of the ride to share.

“Excellent,” I replied to the TSA agent, then corrected myself, “actually, horrible, going home after a great vacation.” She smiled. The worst part is getting on the plane to go home after riding, visiting, simply enjoying. I’m thankful to have the opportunity to go, and it’s always hard to go back. Sure, unpacking every day is a pain (on the back of a bike it’s hard to set up the pack for sequential unpacking....) and not having all the necessaries in the bathroom in the same place at your fingertips like you do at home gets frustrating..... But getting up every day and looking forward to the day’s adventure is an intoxicating elixir to the drudge of daily life.
I gaze out the airplane window and see the lake we rode around, checking out the curvy road we headed out on - FM/RR 1431 - now “ruined” according to someone who has ridden it for years, but fun for us nonetheless. I reminisce about the fawn who grazed along Sam Bass road, wondering if he will make it to adulthood and not dash in front of a car. The Blue Bonnet cafe was nice in Marble Falls, but slower than two adventurers would have liked. Heading north on 281, having misread the map I kept on straight through Lampasas and even missed a second chance to head over to Lometa, then didn’t have enough gas to make the station in Hamilton, running short a few miles south. Thank goodness motorcycles have a reserve which got me to the station. A quick stop in a cafe in Evant told us of the station “just up the road” (which is closer than “up the road a piece” in Texan.) At the station, in true biker form, a couple of traditional Harley riders told us how wonderful highway 4 would be. It was on our route, and we anticipated it more with their description that it was “just like Colorado.”
But first we had 36 and highway 377 to cruise on, nearly getting swiped by a cattle truck that didn’t mind passing a car on the two lane road while we came from the other direction. And a little road runner made it across the highway before my wheels crossed his path. The heat was going up as we arrived in Dublin, which gave us a great excuse for Blue Bell ice cream and Imperial Sugar Dr. Pepper fashioned by first pouring the syrup in your cup and then filling it up with the soda water, in the cafe inside the Dr. Pepper bottling plant.
Re-energized by the sugar fix we ran up to Stephenville and finally found the turn off for hwy 4 north of Morgan Mill. True to their word (would a fellow biker tell me wrong?) it dipped and turned and passed scenic vistas. It was such a great ride I declined to stop and take pictures! Too soon, we came up to the plains again and the road straightened, merged with highway 16 and we were at our first day’s destination, Mike’s sister’s home in Graham, TX.
The next day was a short ride to Iowa Park where we visited family and snapped some photos which turned out to be good timing as storms rolled in and cut our power. Fortunately it was restored in the middle of the night and with electronica recharged (iPods are mandated for long rides...) we were ready to saddle back up the next day and head for a beautiful ride on 82 to Lubbock, TX where more family reside. The clouds threatened and kept the temperatures cool, but rain held off and we cruised, enjoying beautiful escarpments of red dirt dotted with beautifully green trees and even grass. The year’s abundant rain made for beautiful photo ops. At one stop, on the exit ramp of a picnic area that I decided to pass and then decided to pull over at, the highway patrolman who finished reminding an Audi that speed limits are to be obeyed pulled alongside us and rolled down his window. We all agreed it was an amazing day for a ride and he nixed my worries that rain awaited us in Lubbock. “It’s finished for today,” he assured me, and he was correct. I’m sure it was the voice of experience, I figure that must be a lonely post as very few cars passed us up and we enjoyed cruising side by side in our own lane apiece for much of the way. A little bit up the road we stopped at a cafe (Caprock Cafe?) for some water and ended up eating lunch. Nothing special, just plain food that was quick and easy and some friendly staff. Back on the bikes, we ran west to Lubbock and cut off on FM 1729 to find the Llano Estacado winery where the staff explained the Coronado “stake” legend behind the name “Llano Estacado” which may or may not be true. Having missed the last tour, we opted for a tasting and had a few bottles shipped home, taking one with us to his brother’s home to share.
The next morning Mike’s front tire was replaced as it had some cupping which made it less than fun to ride. We then ate at one of the “Rib Crib” restaurants his brother manages before heading down 84/70/83 to Junction, TX. Riding out of Lubbock we were treated to those legendary (with no dispute) west Texas winds with gusts that jostled and pushed us along. Making use of the winds were miles, and miles and miles of wind turbines. They were fielded for over 40 miles, and to my dismay, lined the tops of the escarpments that we now descended after having ascended them just the day prior. We stopped for several photographing sessions, even in the town of Ballinger that had a street with our last name tiled on the curb. What are the odds that we would stop at a gas station across the street and notice that? We darted between dancing dirt devils that rose out of the red fields but were mercifully small since rain had dampened the dirt the day before.
Legends Inn is a nice little motel that caters to motorcyclists, even providing towels to clean up the bikes with, so it was a natural place for us to spend the next night. They display flags from every branch of the military, as a member of their extended family has served in each one. They also are within walking distance of several dining places so you don’t have to saddle up for dinner!
Finally the twisty roads riding day arrived, and we headed south on highway 377 which has it’s own interesting features of water crossings - wide sections of concrete which are normally dry but designed to allow the torrents of water that come with the heavy rains in the area to flow across the road. A short jog over on hwy 41 took us to our first “Twisted Sister” - FR 366. A couple of cattle guards and we were in the hills, reaching amazing views and twisty downhills, which then wound back up to the next hilltop. We arrived in Leaky, ready for a drink despite the coolish temps. The heavy clouds held their rain and kept the temps down. Lesson learned - don’t ride faster than the deer resting in the grass can leap up and run away. She was small, but I still had no desire to make contact. We had already seen several deer fallen on the roadside and had been warned of the danger of running into them, but it was still a surprise when she darted off. She also wouldn’t be the only one we encountered.
FR 367 was the next sister we tackled on the way to Kerrville, eventually joining hwy 16, which holds a few 15 mph turns itself. Then a few more rural roads where we encountered another larger deer, and we found ourselves on hwy 290 coming into Austin at rush hour under full sun, which was nicer than riding in rain, but the temperatures were well into the 90s so a little shower would not have been unwelcome.
I’m not sure how we rode around the rain or were able to usher the deer across the road with making contact, but I do know that it was a very satisfying ride, with well paved roads that had little company on them (except for the renegade semi-truck) and friendly folks all along the way.
So 1156 miles later, I have 137 new photographs and some great memories of the Texas Toeless Boot Ride.