Saturday April 30th, 2011

“Okay folks, kickstands up at 7 a.m.. Same meeting place – Rudy’s.”
We began to assemble just after six thirty a.m. that day. It was right at dawn, morning was just breaking and we lined up our motorbikes as quickly as each rider joining the group for the day arrived. Needless to say, my anticipation of getting on the road and arriving in the “Hill Country” to ride those fabled roads continued to build. Those amongst us who had ridden these roads before, were telling me stories of their previous experiences, which only served to heighten my excitement.
I was anxious. One can always recognize this fact when you wake up feeling refreshed well before the alarm clock “goes off” after only a few short hours of sleep.
As they gathered, chatted and prepared for departure my attention was drawn to reflective material that is oh so important to us as bike riders for heightened visibility during low-light riding conditions. Important because the advent of modern day technology has spawned a generation of drivers who believe they have superhuman skills that permit them to multi-task whilst driving. Believe me, I’ve seen a lot of them. Texting, making phone calls, doing make-up and even having breakfast behind the wheel. These same types, who, in my mind, may have been responsible for so many accidents involving motorcyclists with some even resulting in loss of life could be found on the roads and byways without difficulty. Where are the lawmakers? Where are the design engineers? At another level, where are the traffic police? My mind began to “drill down” in the hope of identifying root causes and possible solutions to this problem. I began to reinforce self-preservation strategies for if and when faced with this. Snapping back to the moment I quickly reached for my camera and snapped a quick shot as the sun finally began to shed its warm glow of light on this new day.

I made some new friends this day. Jeff, Leo and Ray. It was shaping out to be a nice day fraught with good conversation and laughter.
With introductions, ride checks, ride position assignments and course briefing out of the way, we bowed our heads in prayer – led by Dennis and mounted up. Horns-a-honking we pulled out of the parking lot in staggered formation convoy.
This procedure was now familiar to me. I could think of nothing but the wonderful memories from our previous group-ride to the Big Bend Area of West Texas – a ride when we racked up just over 1800 miles, round trip. This time we were heading for the famous “Three Sisters” a.k.a. “The Twisted Sisters”. Don’t ask me where this name came from. More specifically they are Texas Ranch Roads 335, 336 and 337 and are mostly described as some of the best all- round motorcycling roads in Texas - Quality of pavement, natural beauty and riding excitement. I was skeptical. What other roads could possibly be better than the West Texas Roads we had just traveled weeks earlier? I kept an open mind and promised myself to form an opinion after the days’ ride was over.
So off we went. The “iron horses” began to seemingly smile and come into their own. Cruising at legal speed limits we kept good formation. Having “munched” ninety miles without realizing it, we turned west, off IH 37 and headed towards Jourdanton where we stopped for fuel and a quick early morning break.
The anticipation of breakfast had my mouth already watering. I love pancakes. Always have. I remember my mum pulling a stool up to the gas cooker in her kitchen in my home of youth, letting me stand up on it and allowing me to watch her making pancakes – one at a time with all her tender love and care. She allowed me the privilege of eating the first two every time. I remember the last one to be made was always the biggest. That was reserved for dad – Lord rest his departed soul. I miss him tremendously.
I remember Nancy. I’ll never forget her name. My brother Leo and her never really “hooked-up” together. I have never understood why or what happened. I asked many times and he always evaded my questions. I must have been no more than eight years old, but boy she made darned good pancakes! Leo had taken me on a visit to her one day and she happened to be making pancakes. Oh boy! I know you can imagine how she captured my heart! It was love at first pancake! What a trade that would have been. Brother in trade for a lifetimes’ worth of pancakes!
Tony had long since briefed me about what a great pancake-breakfast there was to be had in Bandera at a place called “O.S.T.” So needless to mention again, in the words of Redd Foxx a.k.a. Fred G. Sanford of TV’s Sanford and Sanford series’ fame (Lord rest his departed soul too), I was ready like Freddy!
The Old Spanish Trail Restaurant is the oldest continuously operated restaurant in Bandera County. The “Old Spanish Trail” is named after the very famous route started by the early Missionaries. Over the years Spanish explorers and settlers that came through the area have used it.
We pushed on, arriving there just before 10 a.m. Bandera incidentally is known as the “Cowboy Capital of the World” and there was no shortage of sights, sounds, places and paraphernalia (all but those of us and other folks who rode into town on “iron horses”) in this town that alluded to this fact. Contrary to my present habit, I was so focused on pancakes and breakfast that I failed to make time for some “Nikon Moments”.
We settled down for breakfast. I was sinfully hungry. I had no doubt that “I could eat a whole stack of pancakes” I said to myself. Then I saw it! OMG! The waitress approached and served a guest at the table next to where we sat. Suddenly my hunger pang dissipated in surprise! The pancake I saw her serve the guest was so huge I had absolutely no doubt that one would be more than enough for me. So she took our orders and believe me, the pancake I ordered and had for breakfast was as good as it was big! If you ever find yourself traveling through Bandera, it’s definitely an “eating stop” to consider. Hmmm. Another situation to support the expression: Everything in Texas is BIG!
With our big bellies full we proceeded to the corner gas station to fuel up the big iron horses.
“Ring, ring”
“Hello? Hi Doug. Nice of you to call. Perfect timing. We’re fueling up that’s how I ‘m able to receive your call.
Yes I did commit to the ride today. Sorry you couldn’t be here.
How’s your Mom, by the way? Sorry to hear that. And You?
Hang in there my friend. You are in my prayers. Yes, we’re in Bandera as we speak, fueling up for the next leg of the ride.
Oh yeah, it’s beautiful out here! Thanks for checking on me. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it. I take your word for it.
Wish you could be here.
I’ll be in touch when I get back.”
We rode through pretty country. There was no shortage of rolling hills. It is early spring and Texas is technically suffering a drought, effects of which are very evident. There is still quite a lot of “brown” around. The beautiful trees lining the sides and hovering above the roads created a canopy of different shades of green with sunlight filtering through adding to the effects that pleased my senses so much. I was so sad on the other hand because there was no opportunity on this stretch of road to pull over for “Nikon moments”. Being able to stop and capture these images on digital media would truly have been icing on the cake for me. Like being in the Big Bend area of West Texas though, these images are now “burned” into my mind forever. How could anyone not find or see the beauty of this countryside? Impossible! Just seeing and experiencing this place is reward enough for the personal effort that I have put in to be here along on this ride. All of a sudden life seems so short. There is so much I want to and must see of this countryside and country. So many more places and things to see on these rides that I’m sure will please my senses. With blessings from the good Lord, health and wealth permitting, I look forward to many more smiles through the miles. “Why had I not done this earlier on?” I asked myself. The answer to me comes easy. My priorities were re-arranged from the instant my wife filled the order for our first child and the next and the next. I’ve been raising and providing for my family all this time and guess what? I’m not done yet! – Or was I just making excuses? My mind had drifted to this issue and the years gone by. But here I was now, doing something I have come to enjoy so much. Is this what they mean when they say “smelling the roses along the way”?
My big red iron horse cruised along munching the miles, all along keeping steady pace with Tony’s yellow V Strom ahead of the pack. With each intersection we pulled up at, I looked at those close to and around me in this group we formed and couldn’t help but notice that each and everyone of us had a smile on our faces. Need I explain the reason why? This is the stuff riders’ dreams are made of.
The road wound on. The altitude increased. Without my realizing it we were up high overlooking the valleys below from above treetop levels. Oh my, what breathtaking views. The pace continued. All too soon we began to descend, stopping for a rest and re-hydration at a shady area Tony brought us to at the junction of Highway 336 and Highway 16. “Okay guys, this is it. It is just past midday. We can return to Corpus from here or continue and ride “the sisters”. The vote was unanimous!
“Nikon Moment”! Out came my camera (they have not nicknamed me “Shutterbug” for naught).
We gathered. The picture speaks for itself!

As we mounted up, Tony said to me: “Ok Ernest, up ahead as we get higher, we’ll come upon a black sign with a website address on it”.
“Yeah and”? I asked.
“At that point, there will be a series of sharp curves in the road. Make sure you lean into those curves as much as you care to”.
“Yeah and?” I asked.
“We’ll talk at our next stop, but be sure to lean nicely and sit well on your bike. As always, pay attention. Keep your eyes on the road. Be careful”.
So we mounted up and took off into the next set of hills again. My heart was pounding. What was it about these curves? Was I in over my head? Was I way out of league here? I re-focused on the road and my riding in anticipation of not knowing what riding lay ahead. I was becoming apprehensive. Not long afterwards the “sweepers” began. This was truly a biker’s heaven.
We were weaving along the curves so comfortably, smiles on our faces, banking the iron horses left and right so smoothly. This big red iron horse really began to shine under these conditions. She handled the sweepers effortlessly, smoothly and with all that torque under my control seemed to be smiling back at me saying: “You know what Ernest? This is just part of what I was built to do very well”! and I believed it. This bike is so graceful and nimble for its size. Gobs and gobs of power that made it handle these conditions so well and give me such a pleasant ride.
All of a sudden, looking ahead, there it was. There was the sign. And then another! Without taking my eyes off the bends ahead in the road, I relied on my peripheral vision to scan and read the sign as quickly as I passed it. Not to mention that we were doing much less than twenty-five miles per hour! On some of these roads, if you were not in second gear or less, you’d be going too fast!
Okay, TxMotoFoto.com is what was on the sign. At least that’s what I made it out to be.
Thirty or forty miles or so later, pulling up in Leakey (pronounced Lake – ee) for fuel, Tony asked: “Did you see him, did you see him? He was right there in the curve”. Yes, I had noticed a motorcycle off to the layover area in the curve between the first of the two signs with someone sitting over to the side underneath an umbrella, taking photographs – seemingly of the countryside. He seemed to have a very good perch overlooking the valley and road from either direction.
“Okay, visit that website, search by our ride date and motorcycle type category, look through and see if anything catches your attention”. What I found that very night speaks for itself in the following picture.

After refueling the “iron horses” we stood around “comparing notes” about the ride/route we had just experienced and making small-talk with other riders in the gas station lot. Dennis and Ray had not pulled up yet. They had been the last two riders of our group in the convoy. Twenty minutes had already gone by and we began to question ……………. Lord Forbid!
Then in conversation with another rider who had just “come out of the hills” on the same route we took, information filtered through to us about a rider that had “gone” over the side and paramedics and EMS were on the scene as we spoke.
Tony reached for his phone to try and establish contact with Dennis. No response. Poor signal. No message received either.
A somber cloud hanging over us now changed our mood. Fear of the unknown set in. I could literally hear my heart thumping!
“Ok guys, mount up. Let’s go find them”!
The next thirty-five miles were the longest I have ever ridden. We retraced our steps and with each bend in the road, with each crest of a hilltop all I could see in my mind was an EMS vehicle with lights flashing and medics over the hillside attending to someone injured or..! My mind struggled with that thought. How would we go home and break the news that less of us returned than set out that morning?
We came upon a rest point/vista at the summit of a hill on that route. Other bikers had stopped to “take in” the view. On their way up to that point they had not come across or passed an accident scene. So out with the phones again, at which time now and with good signal, Tony had indeed received a message from Dennis saying he and Ray had gone past the Leakey intersection on towards the next township (instead of making a left turn to the station at Leakey where we were).
WHEW! It took a while for the feeling of relief to begin to set in over all of us again. Thank God for sparing us such a tragedy! At least that was my prayer of thanks for the moment.
The good/nice part of this though, was that we got to travel that section of road again – in happiness! It was fun, and yes, I actually got my picture taken for the third time – courtesy of TxFMotoFoto.com
Soon afterwards, back in Leakey, they u-turned and linked up with us at the station.
It was very hot. Dennis, Jeff and Ray called it a day and headed for home.
Our journey continued. Tree lined roads, lots of shade and I had an insatiable need to know what was around the next bend and the next and the next. We came upon a vista atop on of the hills. The view overlooking the valley was breathtaking. We just had to stop – Nikon moment! to view and experience this valley ………….
“Coming down into the valley from the hills, we rode along the Frio and Guadaloupe Rivers. Although the weather was hot and dry, it was beautiful.
We just had to stop again.
Good time anyway, we needed to rehydrate – and rehydrate we did!
Taking our shoes off and rolling up our trousers (pants – for those of you who don’t speak regular English) we strode into the cool waters of the river, splashed around a while ….
…. and rested on the bank.
The grass felt soft and cool. I can’t remember the last time I laid down outside on grass in the shade. Gosh had it been that long? It had always been nice to do that. I began to put my life into some sort of perspective. I did not want to get up.
We reluctantly left after a while only because we were getting hungry!
We journeyed on towards Kerrville, stopping by “Stonehenge 2” – a scaled down replica of Stonehenge in England. It was quite exciting to see this famed ongoing project.
We stopped in Kerrville to have dinner, taking the opportunity to fill up our bellies and prepare for the long haul home to Corpus Christi via San Antonio.
Having had a full afternoon of riding in the hills, riding through San Antonio (in relation) was both treacherous and mundane! IMHO (In My Honest Opinion)! We were tired, the Hill Country Ride, although very pleasurable, was very fatiguing. It took a lot of concentration and physical prowess to handle our big iron horses on those roads and we began to feel the effects as the day wore on.
Finally we reached Corpus city limits just before midnight and as I pulled into the driveway at home at the end of that day I had registered 964km (602.5 miles).
Fatigued but happy I was asleep within an hour and a half, waking at my usual time for work after only two and a half hours of sleep.
The “Three Sisters” ride had definitely lived up to my expectations and more. It is surely not a ride for less experienced riders or the faint hearted. That is not to say that less experienced riders should not make this trip. After all, experience is relative right? All I am saying is it is very important to be extra cautious on that route. It is as treacherous as it is beautiful. Heed the signs and warnings and be safe. There are more roads to enjoy riding in life. Don’t cut it prematurely short with carelessness or inattention.
After all, “If you ain’t riding’, you ain’t living”. Ride safe, be safe. At all costs try not to be an accident statistic!

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