I’ve been yearning for a trip since I got back from the last one. I had a week off work, so I figured I’d take three days and run a sizable chunk of the Heart of Texas Trail. This wasn’t a trip I wanted to take, this was a trip I needed to take. My very soul cried out to be on the road again, to wash the dust from my mouth and to see the terrain change as I crossed Texas.
I loaded my bike up with my saddlebags, and an awesome homemade saddle blanket (a Mexican blanket lashed to my seat with para-cord); booked a couple of AirBnB’s and headed west. I left Willis and took 105 down into Navasota, taking to dirt roads shortly after stopping to visit the statue of Ranger Captain Frank Hamer.
I stopped off at the First Baptist Church in La Grange to sit under their big oak tree and eat a snack and drink some water. I was wearing a CamelBak, but I have to tell you nothing beats ice water. When it’s 100 outside there’s just nothing better.
I rolled into Gonzales way earlier than I intended to, around 1pm. My check in at the house wasn’t until 3, so I set out to find lunch and lie low for a bit. I was unsuccessful. Nothing could have prepared me for how hot it got when I was sitting still on pavement. I ended up asking for an early check in (thanks Juana; you're a saint), grabbing Whataburger and heading for the air-conditioned perfection of my overnight hole up. I rounded out my day watching a rip-roaring thunderstorm blow in out of the west and then playing solitaire while I ate a late dinner of ramen noodles, spam, and mushrooms (don’t knock it ‘till you try it).
Early to rise the next morning, I was loaded up and back on the road by 7:30. I spent a good deal of the morning dodging rain showers. I got to ride some really pretty dirt roads before I got into New Braunfels. This was a mostly uneventful morning apart from getting turned around by construction in Seguin and getting a picture of the world famous Gruene Hall.
I got into the rolling hills and valleys of Central Texas proper around 10:30am and saw all kinds of beautiful views. When I was planning my route, I’d needed to add a long section of slab to cover ground and get the trip done in the time allotted. I hated to do this but the views I got and the easy travel made it well worth it. And after what was to come next, I was certainly grateful.
I left pavement mid afternoon after a lunch stop in Kerrville and got into some of the most technical riding I’ve ever had anything to do with. Every hill was as steep as I’d ever ridden, up and down. Tight turns, cat head gravel, roads paved with rock, bump gates, you name it. As the terrain became more difficult, it got hotter. The cooling fans on my bike were running constantly to keep up. They did their job, but I could tell my machine was getting just as tired as I was.
This kind of riding gets lonely, a very fundamental loneliness. No cell service, no signs of people, no fresh tire tracks, no nothing. You look around and think, “OK, what’s the plan if something goes wrong.” I had a full tank of fuel and plenty of water. I kept seeing stock tanks and occasional farm equipment. So, I figured that if I got into trouble, I could probably figure out how to get to people, or how to get noticed. I reached a point on this leg of the trip where someone had decided that they owned the road and put a locked gate over it. I tried and route around it, but after going over two ridgelines the road went down to double track, then to single track, then to nothing at all. I made a safety call and turned around. What’s the old saying? “Discretion is the better part of valor.” Something like that? There is a Spot tracker, or InReach in my future.
At any rate, after running around the ranch roads between Harper and Junction for something like three hours. It was time to head in for the night. I arrived at this outstanding little cabin in Menard at about 6:15. I’ve been more tired, but rarely.
This was a unique experience for me. This was the first time since my teenage years that my cell phone didn't have internet access. Apparently, Menard, TX is so remote that on Verizon you're in data roaming. I'd only ever seen this outside the US before. Maybe Menard has the right idea here.
The rest of the evening was a non-event, I got cleaned up and ate a hasty dinner before getting to bed. Tomorrow was the long ride home. I had honestly intended to sleep in, but my body had other ideas entirely. I was wide awake and ready to get back on the road at about 6am the next day. I made myself stay horizontal until about 6:30, then I just had to get moving. I was showered up, with coffee drunk and my bike loaded by about 7:15. As I was hanging my bags and checking fluids and pressures, I was serenaded by the neighborhood goats as they started their day. Back when I was a kid, we figured out that I was good at calling up the goats at the ag barn. It turns out I've still got it.
As I swung my leg over the bike to head home, I noticed how excited I was. I was riding through territory that looked like something out of Lonesome Dove. This was deep cattle country, the part of Texas that works to feed the world. It’s a beautiful thing, long rolling plains covered in live oaks and mesquite bushes with nothing around for miles but cows, goats, and llamas.
It took about 45 minutes to detour through London. Because you have to. It’s the world famous London, TX. You can’t ride all the way out there and not go get a souvenir. People’s stories will never cease to amaze me. I went into the little gas station in London and spoke to the lady that was running the store. Through our conversation, I found that she was from London, England via Iceland. Small world, right?
Back on the road through places like Brady, San Saba, Rochelle, and Lampasas. It reminded me just how much I love Texas. I have been nowhere that was so diverse. From the scenery to the people, Texas is different. It always has been, and it always will be.
The rest of the trip home was fairly uneventful, apart from a great ride down Ivy Mountain Road through Ft. Hood. I made it back home to Willis, TX around 3:30 in the afternoon. Stiff and saddle sore. 826 miles in three days.
After two days of rest, I can’t wait to do it again.
I loaded my bike up with my saddlebags, and an awesome homemade saddle blanket (a Mexican blanket lashed to my seat with para-cord); booked a couple of AirBnB’s and headed west. I left Willis and took 105 down into Navasota, taking to dirt roads shortly after stopping to visit the statue of Ranger Captain Frank Hamer.
I stopped off at the First Baptist Church in La Grange to sit under their big oak tree and eat a snack and drink some water. I was wearing a CamelBak, but I have to tell you nothing beats ice water. When it’s 100 outside there’s just nothing better.
I rolled into Gonzales way earlier than I intended to, around 1pm. My check in at the house wasn’t until 3, so I set out to find lunch and lie low for a bit. I was unsuccessful. Nothing could have prepared me for how hot it got when I was sitting still on pavement. I ended up asking for an early check in (thanks Juana; you're a saint), grabbing Whataburger and heading for the air-conditioned perfection of my overnight hole up. I rounded out my day watching a rip-roaring thunderstorm blow in out of the west and then playing solitaire while I ate a late dinner of ramen noodles, spam, and mushrooms (don’t knock it ‘till you try it).
Early to rise the next morning, I was loaded up and back on the road by 7:30. I spent a good deal of the morning dodging rain showers. I got to ride some really pretty dirt roads before I got into New Braunfels. This was a mostly uneventful morning apart from getting turned around by construction in Seguin and getting a picture of the world famous Gruene Hall.
I got into the rolling hills and valleys of Central Texas proper around 10:30am and saw all kinds of beautiful views. When I was planning my route, I’d needed to add a long section of slab to cover ground and get the trip done in the time allotted. I hated to do this but the views I got and the easy travel made it well worth it. And after what was to come next, I was certainly grateful.
I left pavement mid afternoon after a lunch stop in Kerrville and got into some of the most technical riding I’ve ever had anything to do with. Every hill was as steep as I’d ever ridden, up and down. Tight turns, cat head gravel, roads paved with rock, bump gates, you name it. As the terrain became more difficult, it got hotter. The cooling fans on my bike were running constantly to keep up. They did their job, but I could tell my machine was getting just as tired as I was.
This kind of riding gets lonely, a very fundamental loneliness. No cell service, no signs of people, no fresh tire tracks, no nothing. You look around and think, “OK, what’s the plan if something goes wrong.” I had a full tank of fuel and plenty of water. I kept seeing stock tanks and occasional farm equipment. So, I figured that if I got into trouble, I could probably figure out how to get to people, or how to get noticed. I reached a point on this leg of the trip where someone had decided that they owned the road and put a locked gate over it. I tried and route around it, but after going over two ridgelines the road went down to double track, then to single track, then to nothing at all. I made a safety call and turned around. What’s the old saying? “Discretion is the better part of valor.” Something like that? There is a Spot tracker, or InReach in my future.
At any rate, after running around the ranch roads between Harper and Junction for something like three hours. It was time to head in for the night. I arrived at this outstanding little cabin in Menard at about 6:15. I’ve been more tired, but rarely.
This was a unique experience for me. This was the first time since my teenage years that my cell phone didn't have internet access. Apparently, Menard, TX is so remote that on Verizon you're in data roaming. I'd only ever seen this outside the US before. Maybe Menard has the right idea here.
The rest of the evening was a non-event, I got cleaned up and ate a hasty dinner before getting to bed. Tomorrow was the long ride home. I had honestly intended to sleep in, but my body had other ideas entirely. I was wide awake and ready to get back on the road at about 6am the next day. I made myself stay horizontal until about 6:30, then I just had to get moving. I was showered up, with coffee drunk and my bike loaded by about 7:15. As I was hanging my bags and checking fluids and pressures, I was serenaded by the neighborhood goats as they started their day. Back when I was a kid, we figured out that I was good at calling up the goats at the ag barn. It turns out I've still got it.
As I swung my leg over the bike to head home, I noticed how excited I was. I was riding through territory that looked like something out of Lonesome Dove. This was deep cattle country, the part of Texas that works to feed the world. It’s a beautiful thing, long rolling plains covered in live oaks and mesquite bushes with nothing around for miles but cows, goats, and llamas.
It took about 45 minutes to detour through London. Because you have to. It’s the world famous London, TX. You can’t ride all the way out there and not go get a souvenir. People’s stories will never cease to amaze me. I went into the little gas station in London and spoke to the lady that was running the store. Through our conversation, I found that she was from London, England via Iceland. Small world, right?
Back on the road through places like Brady, San Saba, Rochelle, and Lampasas. It reminded me just how much I love Texas. I have been nowhere that was so diverse. From the scenery to the people, Texas is different. It always has been, and it always will be.
The rest of the trip home was fairly uneventful, apart from a great ride down Ivy Mountain Road through Ft. Hood. I made it back home to Willis, TX around 3:30 in the afternoon. Stiff and saddle sore. 826 miles in three days.
After two days of rest, I can’t wait to do it again.