- Joined
- Mar 6, 2004
- Messages
- 13,316
- Reaction score
- 132
- Location
- Plantersville
- First Name
- Rebecca
- Last Name
- Reed
Friday Night 2/25
I get out of work, grab some fast food on my way home, and plan on quickly getting things together so I can get some decent sleep for the upcoming loooong day that is planned. I am anxiously awaiting the second 'Running of the Pies' in Marble Falls, but I am not looking forward to a pre-dawn roll-out . As usual, I have waited until the last minute for something - this time it's laundry and packing. I figure out what I'm going to need, pack an on-the-town outfit (some folks have agreed it would be fun to stay in Austin for the night, go out to dinner & catch some live music), and check the forum to see if the weather is turning everyone away. Many have already backed out, but some die-hard pie people are saying they will still be there. I just hope Scott (BBBH) is at the Starbucks as planned, otherwise I have no idea how to get to Cedar Park to meet up with the Austinites.
I finally get everything ready to load onto the bike and get under the covers by 1:30. I set two alarm clocks just in case, and try to keep my excitement from allowing sleep to set in. For the first time, I actually count sheep. First they run past me in a field. Then they jump a fence. Then... they are standing around just like the Serta commercial! Man, I hate how TV has infected my brain. :angryfir:
The weather reports are not good, but I pay no attention to specifics. I had no idea what the temperature was going to be, how long or hard it would rain, or how much the route would be affected. After all, I am not going to let something as silly as rain stop me from being one of the few riders to make all twelve (or XII for Tourmeister ) Pie Runs in '05. For the holidays I got a two-piece rain suit of my own (having previously borrowed Beth's during her pregnancy) and my new boots that I got last weekend are touted as waterproof. I don't have waterproof gloves yet, but I have dealt with wet hands before. How bad could it be?
Saturday Morning 2/26
At 5:30 I awake to darkness. Not enough sleep, but adrenaline and sugar-enriched coffee should make for a fine day of riding. I intentionally make the shower a little cooler than normal to add some extra zing, and by the time I'm geared up and out the door I have forgotten that I'm tired. Bag on bike. Check. Helmet for Keith or anyone from Dallas that can bring it to him. Check. Kurt's coffee mug that I borrowed and forgot the last time I was out there. Check. Seems I've got it all under control, filled the tank coming home the night before, so I roll north to the meeting point.
Once there, I see a bike. It's Scott (BBBH) just as expected, and he's already sitting and enjoying some java. I join him with my macciato of choice and a bagel just to put something solid in my stomach, and we anxiously await the arrival of more riders. Rolling out at 7... but nobody else showed. In case we get separated or I get curious about the route along the way, Scott tapes a laminated (ok, it's clear packing tape) route sheet to my tank. Cool idea! I'll be picking up a VStrom tank bag from Claire (bobcat) when I get to Austin, but until then this will do just fine.
We head towards Katy to pick up the west Houston riders, but both of us agree that there probably won't be anyone out there at the Oshmann's meeting point. We head out on I10 and quickly come up on the Fry Rd. exit. We head on through the parking lot and - wait a sec - there's a bike there! It's Gary (Dr. Blackbird) and his 600RR.
We say our how-do's and talk bikes for a bit, and I decide to don my rain gear. With all these layers on to keep the cold out, I can't seem to reach my feet. Scott is gracious enough to help out and before too long I have yet another layer on. Gary lets us know that he's going to ride out with us, but will not be making the whole trip. The three of us head west on 10 towards Sealy, where the backroads and fun should begin. Not more than 20 miles down the road, a few drops of rain begin to fall. The sky ahead is dismal and grey, but not dark and brooding so I am still optimistic. Gary breaks away and gives a wave as he heads for home, and Scott and I press on. The rain becomes steady but still is not pouring down on us. We press on and the cold starts to inch its way into my body. My hands are wet and I am quickly reminded that my gloves are absorbing water like a sponge. The hand guards on the Strom are not doing anything to help keep the wind off, and I try to keep my fingers moving to keep the blood circulating. We finally arrive in Industry for an intended gas stop.
It's about 8:30, and Scott breaks the news that he is going to turn around and head home. If this were one leg of a multi-day ride, it would be a different story. He doesn't mind the rain, but would prefer not to be out here if he doesn't need to be. When he tells me, he acts as though he is letting me down - he thinks I am going back with him! :rofl I try to assure him that I will be Ok riding out on my own, although it seems as though I am convincing myself at the same time. We look over a map, and I decide that I will cut out the fun roads and just get to Cedar Park by way of 71 and 183. I give a quick call to Kurt (txmedic) in Austin, and although he isn't going to be riding with us, he's at work and near a computer. He posts my status in an attempt to let the Austinites know that I am still on my way and will be meeting them at the Taco Cabana as planned.
Along the way, I am careful on the curves. I fear the loss of traction in the rain, and my average speed is down because of it. I come up the turn off to 969 that will take me to 183, but as I grab for the brake to set up for the intersection I lock up the rear and the bike starts to skid. The rear end starts coming around to the left, and my heart stops. I have no idea what my reaction was, but I must not have pulled in the clutch. The back end swings back around to the right and I'm still sliding, but thankfully staying upright. Just as I think I will regain control, the bike starts bucking left and right, and all I can envision is my body sliding across wet pavement and the possibility of being run over by the cars behind me . The wet pavement is slick, so I would probably slide easily and with less rash than if it were dry. Right? It's amazing the things that run through your head in a moment of panic. The rear tire finally regains traction and I am still going straight. I slooooowly bring the bike over to the side of the road, hit the kill switch, put down the kickstand, and turn the key. I have to take a break. I have to catch my breath. I have to get the vision of sliding across pavement out of my head!
After a few minutes, I decide that I am Ok to continue. Is this the adventure part of touring that Scott talks about?
My speed is reduced even further and visibility is a growing concern. The visor fogs up if I close it to keep my face warm, and the rain trickles down the inside if I leave it cracked open. With no way to clear the inside of the visor, I end up pulling over on 183 at a Jack in the Box to grab some napkins and see what I can do. While there, I give Kurt another call to see how far I am and ask if anyone has responded to his previous post about my arrival. I'm running late. Very late. I fear I will get to the TC and everyone will have left without me. Will Claire still be waiting with the tank bag? Will I know how to get from there to Marble Falls on my own? Kurt tells me I can stay here in town and either hang out with him at work or go and stay with Rhonda (his wife) at the house. I'm not one to back down from a challenge, so I thank him for the offer and let him know that I will be pressing on.
I pull into the parking lot at (the now infamous) Taco Cabana at about 11:15 and circle around. Nobody. The meeting time was 10. Do I go in and see if there's anyone waiting? I'd see the bike(s) if there was, so I decide to just head out on 1431 like Kurt said and hopefully make it there while someone - anyone - was still at the Blue Bonnett. I stop to refuel at the first gas station I see, and as I'm getting back on the bike I feel my phone buzzing in my jacket. I try to get to it before it stops, but no luck. I don't recognize the number, but the area code is 512. I think that's around here, so I don't bother waiting to see if they leave a message and I return the call. It's Will (birdwh) and he says he lives about a mile away from the gas station I'm at. He tells me that nobody at the TC went to Marble Falls, so I didn't miss anything. The road to get there is twisty and has some areas that might be under water by now. He convinces me that it wouldn't be a wise idea to go, and there probably isn't anyone there. He tells me to hang where I am and he'll come get me. :hail
We get back to his house and after I peel off layers of gear, I realize that my new rain gear has problems. The pants have a rip at the seam right in the seat. Great. The wet jeans make me look like I've got a bladder problem. The top of all three of my shirts is wet. Is there a leak in the jacket? Not sure. My hands are numb. Will offers a mug of warm tea, and it feels as good in my hands as it does going down my throat. His bird, Cricket, is loud and playful while I thaw in my pajamas. We call the Blue Bonnett and discover five riders made it there, and they are finishing up their meal and paying their checks. :clap :clap :clap :clap :clap Kudos to those who went the distance! You all deserve your name tags for this pie run, badges of honor (of sorts). Each of you PM me with your street address and I'll send them to you.
Will has to go to work, so I gear up in a dry change of clothes and I decide to have some lunch in town then head for home. Will leads the way down to Rudy's BBQ and then says goodbye. The short ride here reminds me how cold and wet it is still, so I settle in for some moist brisket and potatoes, and top it off with banana pudding. It's not pie, but it's yummy and I haven't eaten since the bagel this morning. I call Beth and Debbie and let them each know I am Ok and still going strong. They each tell me that I'm crazy for even getting as far as I have, and tell me to be careful. I decide to call Kurt and let him know how the day is going. I have been considering his offer of staying in town to wait out the continuing rain, and I finally decide that it would be the smart thing to do. He tells me how to get down to him at the EMS Station, and within a half hour I have the Strom parked in the ambulance bay and am putting clothes into the dryer. I'm glad I packed an overnight bag!
I meet Chuck, a 25 year veteran of A/TC EMS and am offered a mug of VERY strong coffee in a funny mug. Wow, now I know how these guys pull 24 hour shifts! The plan is to ride along with Kurt in the big yellow truck, watching and just trying to stay out of the way. The truck says PARAMEDIC RESCUE, and that's a fair description of what Kurt does most of the day - saving paramedics, from themselves much of the time. Kurt grabs dinner at a local BBQ joint, and they have pie - it's not the Blue Bonnett, but I have to have a slice just to be able to say I came this way and DID have pie!
I ride along with District Command 1 and see everything from minor scratches to head wounds to what ended up being a fatal collision at 2 am. I could double the length of this ride report with the details of the night, but I will sum it up by saying that I have a new perspective on what these guys and gals go through in trying to help the public, and am reminded that every moment counts in this life. Make it a good one.
Sunday 2/27
After a few hours of sleep in short spurts, it's 7 am and the shift is over. I pack up all the gear, meet the guys and gals coming on as relief at Station 28, and get ready to head home. The weather forecast is dry but cold, and all of my clothes and gear are dry. I even put my helmet liner in the dryer on low for a few minutes as I was packing up the bike, and it felt good to put it back on my head. I said my goodbyes and solidified the easy route home, and Kurt led me out to the freeway. A few miles out, it became apparent that I needed to switch out visors and don the dark tint. I pull over and the east and west views are amazingly opposite.
Dark and gloomy clouds hang over the city behind me and are trying to burn off.
Ahead is bright sunshine that is blinding even with the tinted visor.
I make it home shortly before 10am, and the trip turns out to be almost 390 miles in total. Despite the day just getting started for most, I quickly peel off the layers of gear and clothes that have attempted to keep me warm on the way and crawl under the covers. I wasn't tired while on the bike, but back on land and the exhaustion quickly sets in. No sheep needed this time, I am asleep within a matter of minutes.
I get out of work, grab some fast food on my way home, and plan on quickly getting things together so I can get some decent sleep for the upcoming loooong day that is planned. I am anxiously awaiting the second 'Running of the Pies' in Marble Falls, but I am not looking forward to a pre-dawn roll-out . As usual, I have waited until the last minute for something - this time it's laundry and packing. I figure out what I'm going to need, pack an on-the-town outfit (some folks have agreed it would be fun to stay in Austin for the night, go out to dinner & catch some live music), and check the forum to see if the weather is turning everyone away. Many have already backed out, but some die-hard pie people are saying they will still be there. I just hope Scott (BBBH) is at the Starbucks as planned, otherwise I have no idea how to get to Cedar Park to meet up with the Austinites.
I finally get everything ready to load onto the bike and get under the covers by 1:30. I set two alarm clocks just in case, and try to keep my excitement from allowing sleep to set in. For the first time, I actually count sheep. First they run past me in a field. Then they jump a fence. Then... they are standing around just like the Serta commercial! Man, I hate how TV has infected my brain. :angryfir:
The weather reports are not good, but I pay no attention to specifics. I had no idea what the temperature was going to be, how long or hard it would rain, or how much the route would be affected. After all, I am not going to let something as silly as rain stop me from being one of the few riders to make all twelve (or XII for Tourmeister ) Pie Runs in '05. For the holidays I got a two-piece rain suit of my own (having previously borrowed Beth's during her pregnancy) and my new boots that I got last weekend are touted as waterproof. I don't have waterproof gloves yet, but I have dealt with wet hands before. How bad could it be?
Saturday Morning 2/26
At 5:30 I awake to darkness. Not enough sleep, but adrenaline and sugar-enriched coffee should make for a fine day of riding. I intentionally make the shower a little cooler than normal to add some extra zing, and by the time I'm geared up and out the door I have forgotten that I'm tired. Bag on bike. Check. Helmet for Keith or anyone from Dallas that can bring it to him. Check. Kurt's coffee mug that I borrowed and forgot the last time I was out there. Check. Seems I've got it all under control, filled the tank coming home the night before, so I roll north to the meeting point.
Once there, I see a bike. It's Scott (BBBH) just as expected, and he's already sitting and enjoying some java. I join him with my macciato of choice and a bagel just to put something solid in my stomach, and we anxiously await the arrival of more riders. Rolling out at 7... but nobody else showed. In case we get separated or I get curious about the route along the way, Scott tapes a laminated (ok, it's clear packing tape) route sheet to my tank. Cool idea! I'll be picking up a VStrom tank bag from Claire (bobcat) when I get to Austin, but until then this will do just fine.
We head towards Katy to pick up the west Houston riders, but both of us agree that there probably won't be anyone out there at the Oshmann's meeting point. We head out on I10 and quickly come up on the Fry Rd. exit. We head on through the parking lot and - wait a sec - there's a bike there! It's Gary (Dr. Blackbird) and his 600RR.
We say our how-do's and talk bikes for a bit, and I decide to don my rain gear. With all these layers on to keep the cold out, I can't seem to reach my feet. Scott is gracious enough to help out and before too long I have yet another layer on. Gary lets us know that he's going to ride out with us, but will not be making the whole trip. The three of us head west on 10 towards Sealy, where the backroads and fun should begin. Not more than 20 miles down the road, a few drops of rain begin to fall. The sky ahead is dismal and grey, but not dark and brooding so I am still optimistic. Gary breaks away and gives a wave as he heads for home, and Scott and I press on. The rain becomes steady but still is not pouring down on us. We press on and the cold starts to inch its way into my body. My hands are wet and I am quickly reminded that my gloves are absorbing water like a sponge. The hand guards on the Strom are not doing anything to help keep the wind off, and I try to keep my fingers moving to keep the blood circulating. We finally arrive in Industry for an intended gas stop.
It's about 8:30, and Scott breaks the news that he is going to turn around and head home. If this were one leg of a multi-day ride, it would be a different story. He doesn't mind the rain, but would prefer not to be out here if he doesn't need to be. When he tells me, he acts as though he is letting me down - he thinks I am going back with him! :rofl I try to assure him that I will be Ok riding out on my own, although it seems as though I am convincing myself at the same time. We look over a map, and I decide that I will cut out the fun roads and just get to Cedar Park by way of 71 and 183. I give a quick call to Kurt (txmedic) in Austin, and although he isn't going to be riding with us, he's at work and near a computer. He posts my status in an attempt to let the Austinites know that I am still on my way and will be meeting them at the Taco Cabana as planned.
Along the way, I am careful on the curves. I fear the loss of traction in the rain, and my average speed is down because of it. I come up the turn off to 969 that will take me to 183, but as I grab for the brake to set up for the intersection I lock up the rear and the bike starts to skid. The rear end starts coming around to the left, and my heart stops. I have no idea what my reaction was, but I must not have pulled in the clutch. The back end swings back around to the right and I'm still sliding, but thankfully staying upright. Just as I think I will regain control, the bike starts bucking left and right, and all I can envision is my body sliding across wet pavement and the possibility of being run over by the cars behind me . The wet pavement is slick, so I would probably slide easily and with less rash than if it were dry. Right? It's amazing the things that run through your head in a moment of panic. The rear tire finally regains traction and I am still going straight. I slooooowly bring the bike over to the side of the road, hit the kill switch, put down the kickstand, and turn the key. I have to take a break. I have to catch my breath. I have to get the vision of sliding across pavement out of my head!
After a few minutes, I decide that I am Ok to continue. Is this the adventure part of touring that Scott talks about?
My speed is reduced even further and visibility is a growing concern. The visor fogs up if I close it to keep my face warm, and the rain trickles down the inside if I leave it cracked open. With no way to clear the inside of the visor, I end up pulling over on 183 at a Jack in the Box to grab some napkins and see what I can do. While there, I give Kurt another call to see how far I am and ask if anyone has responded to his previous post about my arrival. I'm running late. Very late. I fear I will get to the TC and everyone will have left without me. Will Claire still be waiting with the tank bag? Will I know how to get from there to Marble Falls on my own? Kurt tells me I can stay here in town and either hang out with him at work or go and stay with Rhonda (his wife) at the house. I'm not one to back down from a challenge, so I thank him for the offer and let him know that I will be pressing on.
I pull into the parking lot at (the now infamous) Taco Cabana at about 11:15 and circle around. Nobody. The meeting time was 10. Do I go in and see if there's anyone waiting? I'd see the bike(s) if there was, so I decide to just head out on 1431 like Kurt said and hopefully make it there while someone - anyone - was still at the Blue Bonnett. I stop to refuel at the first gas station I see, and as I'm getting back on the bike I feel my phone buzzing in my jacket. I try to get to it before it stops, but no luck. I don't recognize the number, but the area code is 512. I think that's around here, so I don't bother waiting to see if they leave a message and I return the call. It's Will (birdwh) and he says he lives about a mile away from the gas station I'm at. He tells me that nobody at the TC went to Marble Falls, so I didn't miss anything. The road to get there is twisty and has some areas that might be under water by now. He convinces me that it wouldn't be a wise idea to go, and there probably isn't anyone there. He tells me to hang where I am and he'll come get me. :hail
We get back to his house and after I peel off layers of gear, I realize that my new rain gear has problems. The pants have a rip at the seam right in the seat. Great. The wet jeans make me look like I've got a bladder problem. The top of all three of my shirts is wet. Is there a leak in the jacket? Not sure. My hands are numb. Will offers a mug of warm tea, and it feels as good in my hands as it does going down my throat. His bird, Cricket, is loud and playful while I thaw in my pajamas. We call the Blue Bonnett and discover five riders made it there, and they are finishing up their meal and paying their checks. :clap :clap :clap :clap :clap Kudos to those who went the distance! You all deserve your name tags for this pie run, badges of honor (of sorts). Each of you PM me with your street address and I'll send them to you.
Will has to go to work, so I gear up in a dry change of clothes and I decide to have some lunch in town then head for home. Will leads the way down to Rudy's BBQ and then says goodbye. The short ride here reminds me how cold and wet it is still, so I settle in for some moist brisket and potatoes, and top it off with banana pudding. It's not pie, but it's yummy and I haven't eaten since the bagel this morning. I call Beth and Debbie and let them each know I am Ok and still going strong. They each tell me that I'm crazy for even getting as far as I have, and tell me to be careful. I decide to call Kurt and let him know how the day is going. I have been considering his offer of staying in town to wait out the continuing rain, and I finally decide that it would be the smart thing to do. He tells me how to get down to him at the EMS Station, and within a half hour I have the Strom parked in the ambulance bay and am putting clothes into the dryer. I'm glad I packed an overnight bag!
I meet Chuck, a 25 year veteran of A/TC EMS and am offered a mug of VERY strong coffee in a funny mug. Wow, now I know how these guys pull 24 hour shifts! The plan is to ride along with Kurt in the big yellow truck, watching and just trying to stay out of the way. The truck says PARAMEDIC RESCUE, and that's a fair description of what Kurt does most of the day - saving paramedics, from themselves much of the time. Kurt grabs dinner at a local BBQ joint, and they have pie - it's not the Blue Bonnett, but I have to have a slice just to be able to say I came this way and DID have pie!
I ride along with District Command 1 and see everything from minor scratches to head wounds to what ended up being a fatal collision at 2 am. I could double the length of this ride report with the details of the night, but I will sum it up by saying that I have a new perspective on what these guys and gals go through in trying to help the public, and am reminded that every moment counts in this life. Make it a good one.
Sunday 2/27
After a few hours of sleep in short spurts, it's 7 am and the shift is over. I pack up all the gear, meet the guys and gals coming on as relief at Station 28, and get ready to head home. The weather forecast is dry but cold, and all of my clothes and gear are dry. I even put my helmet liner in the dryer on low for a few minutes as I was packing up the bike, and it felt good to put it back on my head. I said my goodbyes and solidified the easy route home, and Kurt led me out to the freeway. A few miles out, it became apparent that I needed to switch out visors and don the dark tint. I pull over and the east and west views are amazingly opposite.
Dark and gloomy clouds hang over the city behind me and are trying to burn off.
Ahead is bright sunshine that is blinding even with the tinted visor.
I make it home shortly before 10am, and the trip turns out to be almost 390 miles in total. Despite the day just getting started for most, I quickly peel off the layers of gear and clothes that have attempted to keep me warm on the way and crawl under the covers. I wasn't tired while on the bike, but back on land and the exhaustion quickly sets in. No sheep needed this time, I am asleep within a matter of minutes.