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Like most worthwhile adventures this one started off innocently enough. I took the day off from work to do some chores and scoot by Lone Star BMW to schedule some pre-Mexico service.
I woke early and went for a great run the hills of South Austin then decided to hop on the motorcycle and go out for coffee. It was 830 am when I pulled up to Jo’s on South Congress and, perhaps because Jo’s is only a few blocks from home, I just didn’t feel like stopping. Lone Star wasn't open yet so I thought I would ride down to Austin Java on B’Springs. I didn’t feel like stopping there either and rolled on past.
I had heard there was a nice coffee shop in Johnson City so I thought to my self,
“Self – why don’t we just scoot out to 71, ride Fall Creek Road and hop into Johnson City the back way?”
I congratulated myself for this brilliant idea.
I would have plenty of time to take this extended coffee break, get by Lone Star and still get some, if not all, of those chores knocked out. I truly surprise myself with my genius sometimes. 
Fall Creek was a great little ride
so I motored on to CR302 to Round Mountain before hopping CR307 to the slick red dirt of Althaus-Davis.
I took AD north (yes, yes AWAY from Johnson City) to CR309 which sort of morphed into 310 then 308
before becoming CR315.
The GPS said I had about 9 and a half miles of CR315 which was VERY cool with me since it was dirt and hills and views piled upon views. About 4 miles down the road I approached a hard left turn with a BIG sign on a fence stating “WARNING: Water and Sand ahead. No Turnaround. 4-Wheel Drive Vehicles Only!”
4-Wheel Drive??? Shoot, I’ve got ONE wheel drive. I am motoring on. As soon as I turned the corner I spotted the ‘low’ water crossing. Some of you may remember my last encounter with a low water crossing (hint: it was the source of my avatar and is recounted here http://www.twtex.com/forums/showthread.php?t=6673 )
Instead of stampeding through the water this time I stopped, took a couple pictures, walked through the crossing, kicked a couple rocks and picked a nice line through.
I re-mounted and nonchalantly – and triumphantly - splashed through the water crossing.
I proceeded along this great dirt road kicking up wee rooster tails as I slid ever-so-slightly around corners in the sand and dirt until a couple miles later when I turned a corner to spot yet another water crossing. This one was even deeper and wider than the last and sported honest-to-goodness running water moving fast enough to make ripples.
I was not without options, however. One side of the crossing had our good and slippery friend algae all over the place while the other side had some softball sized rocks dotting the fine decomposed granite in which I sunk to the bottom of my calves like quicksand. Inside my helmet I could faintly hear the Princess Bride scene where Buttercup and Westley race into the Fire Swamp:
Buttercup: We'll never succeed. We may as well die here.
WESTLEY :No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt - no problem. There's a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.
BUTTERCUP: Westley, what about the R.O.U.S.'s?
WESTLEY: Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist.
I choose the quicksand over the algae since I had already enjoyed the pleasure of THAT particular learning experience.
Off I go - cautiously - into the water.
5 feet – piece of cake,
10 feet – no problem,
15 feet – wheels spin in the sand a bit so I shift into second gear to get rid of some torque and promptly stop spinning allowing me to smugly roll to 20 feet where I instantaneously sink above the rims into the sand. The water is lapping at the engine case and I am laughing at myself. I am undoubtedly stuck so I dismount, remove my gloves and swipe away some sand from around the wheels. I hop back on, fire her up and, of course, sink a few inches deeper with NO forward progress. Dismount, dig some more (a bit more seriously this time), re-mount, try again. Sink deeper.
Now I am so deep the water is close to the cylinders and I can just BARELY put the side stand down. The water is up to the tops of my calves. (Editorial Note #1: These Oxtar Matrix boots sure are waterproof!)
I figure I have one last chance to dig out before I am stuck for good and forced to call for help. Oh, yeah, that’s right, I haven’t had cell service out here all morning and haven't seen another human being in two hours so I will be walking for help. I return to digging with unbridled enthusiasm a reborn sense of purpose. Eventually I end up lying down in the water and completely filling those lovely waterproof boots with water (Editorial Note #2: The Oxtar Matrix Boots are SO waterproof you can fill them up with water at 1pm and they will retain a cup of water until you pour them out 3 hours later in a front of the HEB while frightened mothers shoo their children away from you).
I dig until I reach rock beneath all the sand - probably 8-10 inches deep – and have built little sand embankments on both sides of my wheels. My hands are red and raw and I have little tiny granite shards stuck in all the fingers. I briefly consider snapping some photos of the S.S. BMW but decide that would somehow unduly test my remaining karma so I opt against preserving the soggy moment.
I fire up the big silver pig, shift past neutral into 2nd and slooooowly let out the clutch. Nothing. For what seemed like minutes there was no movement before the beast began to creep forward. At this point I was not keen on losing any momentum so I let the speed build up quickly while I bounced off the submerged rocks and jabbed my feet out like hydraulic outriggers until I made it out of the water then the sand pit on the far side.
Now I can stop for a picture.
The remainder of CR315 was uneventful as it headed on towards 16 which I took south to the Willow City Loop before a blur of roads with hyphenated German names eventually spit me out on 290 for a quick jet home as the sun started to set.
I never did stop in Johnson City or get any coffee but I had one fantastic ride and a great day.
It's good to be alive and on a motorcycle in Texas!
I woke early and went for a great run the hills of South Austin then decided to hop on the motorcycle and go out for coffee. It was 830 am when I pulled up to Jo’s on South Congress and, perhaps because Jo’s is only a few blocks from home, I just didn’t feel like stopping. Lone Star wasn't open yet so I thought I would ride down to Austin Java on B’Springs. I didn’t feel like stopping there either and rolled on past.
I had heard there was a nice coffee shop in Johnson City so I thought to my self,
“Self – why don’t we just scoot out to 71, ride Fall Creek Road and hop into Johnson City the back way?”
I congratulated myself for this brilliant idea.
I would have plenty of time to take this extended coffee break, get by Lone Star and still get some, if not all, of those chores knocked out. I truly surprise myself with my genius sometimes. Fall Creek was a great little ride
so I motored on to CR302 to Round Mountain before hopping CR307 to the slick red dirt of Althaus-Davis.
I took AD north (yes, yes AWAY from Johnson City) to CR309 which sort of morphed into 310 then 308
before becoming CR315.
The GPS said I had about 9 and a half miles of CR315 which was VERY cool with me since it was dirt and hills and views piled upon views. About 4 miles down the road I approached a hard left turn with a BIG sign on a fence stating “WARNING: Water and Sand ahead. No Turnaround. 4-Wheel Drive Vehicles Only!”
4-Wheel Drive??? Shoot, I’ve got ONE wheel drive. I am motoring on. As soon as I turned the corner I spotted the ‘low’ water crossing. Some of you may remember my last encounter with a low water crossing (hint: it was the source of my avatar and is recounted here http://www.twtex.com/forums/showthread.php?t=6673 )
Instead of stampeding through the water this time I stopped, took a couple pictures, walked through the crossing, kicked a couple rocks and picked a nice line through.
I re-mounted and nonchalantly – and triumphantly - splashed through the water crossing.
I proceeded along this great dirt road kicking up wee rooster tails as I slid ever-so-slightly around corners in the sand and dirt until a couple miles later when I turned a corner to spot yet another water crossing. This one was even deeper and wider than the last and sported honest-to-goodness running water moving fast enough to make ripples.
I was not without options, however. One side of the crossing had our good and slippery friend algae all over the place while the other side had some softball sized rocks dotting the fine decomposed granite in which I sunk to the bottom of my calves like quicksand. Inside my helmet I could faintly hear the Princess Bride scene where Buttercup and Westley race into the Fire Swamp:
Buttercup: We'll never succeed. We may as well die here.
WESTLEY :No, no. We have already succeeded. I mean, what are the three terrors of the Fire Swamp? One, the flame spurt - no problem. There's a popping sound preceding each; we can avoid that. Two, the lightning sand, which you were clever enough to discover what that looks like, so in the future we can avoid that too.
BUTTERCUP: Westley, what about the R.O.U.S.'s?
WESTLEY: Rodents Of Unusual Size? I don't think they exist.
I choose the quicksand over the algae since I had already enjoyed the pleasure of THAT particular learning experience.
Off I go - cautiously - into the water.
5 feet – piece of cake,
10 feet – no problem,
15 feet – wheels spin in the sand a bit so I shift into second gear to get rid of some torque and promptly stop spinning allowing me to smugly roll to 20 feet where I instantaneously sink above the rims into the sand. The water is lapping at the engine case and I am laughing at myself. I am undoubtedly stuck so I dismount, remove my gloves and swipe away some sand from around the wheels. I hop back on, fire her up and, of course, sink a few inches deeper with NO forward progress. Dismount, dig some more (a bit more seriously this time), re-mount, try again. Sink deeper.
Now I am so deep the water is close to the cylinders and I can just BARELY put the side stand down. The water is up to the tops of my calves. (Editorial Note #1: These Oxtar Matrix boots sure are waterproof!)
I figure I have one last chance to dig out before I am stuck for good and forced to call for help. Oh, yeah, that’s right, I haven’t had cell service out here all morning and haven't seen another human being in two hours so I will be walking for help. I return to digging with unbridled enthusiasm a reborn sense of purpose. Eventually I end up lying down in the water and completely filling those lovely waterproof boots with water (Editorial Note #2: The Oxtar Matrix Boots are SO waterproof you can fill them up with water at 1pm and they will retain a cup of water until you pour them out 3 hours later in a front of the HEB while frightened mothers shoo their children away from you).
I dig until I reach rock beneath all the sand - probably 8-10 inches deep – and have built little sand embankments on both sides of my wheels. My hands are red and raw and I have little tiny granite shards stuck in all the fingers. I briefly consider snapping some photos of the S.S. BMW but decide that would somehow unduly test my remaining karma so I opt against preserving the soggy moment.
I fire up the big silver pig, shift past neutral into 2nd and slooooowly let out the clutch. Nothing. For what seemed like minutes there was no movement before the beast began to creep forward. At this point I was not keen on losing any momentum so I let the speed build up quickly while I bounced off the submerged rocks and jabbed my feet out like hydraulic outriggers until I made it out of the water then the sand pit on the far side.
Now I can stop for a picture.
The remainder of CR315 was uneventful as it headed on towards 16 which I took south to the Willow City Loop before a blur of roads with hyphenated German names eventually spit me out on 290 for a quick jet home as the sun started to set.
I never did stop in Johnson City or get any coffee but I had one fantastic ride and a great day.
It's good to be alive and on a motorcycle in Texas!
