I took a few days off to do a ride, while I could. It’s going to get busy this month and I wanted to hit the road before it gets hot. This week looked perfect; cool, maybe some winds Monday and Tuesday, with rain headed in the rest of the week. I got a dog sitter from Rover.com, and it worked really well.
Monday, I wanted to be on the road about 11, at the latest. Hotel check in was 3PM, so I didn’t want to get there before. The maps said a shade over 4 hours using the route I planned. It was slightly shorter – about 45 min to cannonball down I-35, but as any North Texan can tell you, is a beating. And that 3+ hours is best case, the one you see before you go. Things change as you are on the road, and traffic thickens and accidents happen.
My goal here was to head to Wimberly using the route that Me and the boy were supposed to hit, before I blew navigation, and we wound up on I-35 at Temple in 105 degree heat and murderous traffic. We endured that and eventually hit fun riding. But by that point we were hot, dehydrated, and sore. We had a great dinner that night, but decided the next morning to hit 35 around San Marcos and just gut out the ride home.
This route I planned on 67 west, to 220. At Hico, hit 281 south. Interestingly, that intersection is directly in front of the restaurant where we ate lunch. Instead of going straight, my dumbass went east on Hwy 6. It took me too long to figure that out, and we ended up committed to perdition.
281 goes all the way to Blanco, where you peel off on 165, then to 2325 into Wimberly.
Monday morning I had my head deep up my ass. I wanted to clean up the place so the sitter didn’t have to sit in a bachelor pigsty. I packed like an idiot, and didn’t get on the road until 12:30, but had to hit town to mail the Grandson his birthday card. I didn’t hit the open highway until after 1.
The wind was punishing down 67, hitting hard from the south as I headed west. I had the windshield vent too far open, so I had to lower it to stop the insane buffeting. I took my first gas break at Glen Rose (I left home without topping off).
Not certain what’s so historic about Glen Rose. Maybe it’s the old town.
The scenery changed to ranches, scrub and mesquite tress was fantastic. Right out of a western movie.
It’s wide open, with great roads, passing lanes, and mostly people that are gracious and know how to drive once you pass Glen Rose. It stays that way until you hit Lampasas. Lampasas to Blanco it seems are towns that are exurbs of Austin, and full of transplants, traffic, and idiots. I ate a late lunch at the Wataburger in Lampasas, and fueled up again. Then, I made a critical error. 281 turns onto 183. You have to take a right to stay on 281. I didn’t do that. So I wound up on 183, heading east to Austin. No bueno. It took about 20 minutes for me to wonder why I was seeing mileage signs for Austin and none for Blancos. A quick stop and look at the phone, and I realized my mistake. There was no easy way to recover, other than to turn back to Lampasas. a 45 min detour.
During the trip, as I was getting buffeted, my anke was getting burnt. First time I noticed, I tought what a dumbshit move wearing footies instead of socks. Meh. Do better next time. Tooling down 281 from Lampasas, I wondered why my ankle would be getting sunburned if I was wearing my reboks. Turns out, I wasn’t. I was wearing my old man sketchers, the last shoe anyone should wear on a bike.
Did I say I had my head up my ass that morning? Yeah.
Finally, I hit Blanco and turned on 165. My visor had bugs all in it. My ankle was burnt. My hips were screaming. All forgotten as it got hilly and curvy.
It was glorious.
Hills, curves, and I’m the only one in my lane far as the eye can see, all the way to Wimberly. Once I hit the city border, I got stuck behind a hippy woman in a Subaru. Yay. Doesn’t matter. It wasn’t far. I stopped before the turn to the hotel to gas up so I wouldn’t have to do it in the morning.
I stayed at the same Hotel, the Flora and Fauna. It was cheap, nice, and walking distance to the square.
I took a shower, dressed in clean clothes and hit the town for dinner. On the way, you cross a creek.
It had a helpful warning sign:
Just in case you have the urge to take a dip in a smelly, fetid swamp. Well. Lot of hippies may not get that without finding out themselves.
Had a great piece of salmon in grapefruit butter sauce (sounds weird, it was fantastic). Got back to my room and discovered dumbshit move number umpteen: I remembered to pack my solar charger and hotspot, but forgot chargers and cords. My phone was at 30%. I’d have to hit the HEB in the morning and get a cord to charge my mobile along the way.
Morning was crisp and cloudy.
That was expected to burn out in the afternoon. I got packed up. Luckily, I remembered my boots:
Far better and more comfy than Sketchers.
I hit the free breakfast at the local coffee shop, went to HEB and got my cord, plugged in and hit the road. It was glorious. I took the time to use some dish soap on the helmet, Go I got to hit 2325 with a clear screen, comfy feet, no aches, and I was the only one on the road until nearly the end where it was me and a dude in a powerstroke Ford trying to get around an idiot in yet another Subaru.
I was a glorious trip, all the way to Lampasas, where I gassed up again:
I noticed that my water bottle popped open, so I went into the store and got a gatorade, and a cup of ice to load it back up.
It wasn’t until Glen Rose or so until the wind and sun started.
19 Mph, with 25 gusts. Broadsiding me to the right. That’s also when the traffic started a bit, and the ride became harder. From Hico to Cleburne I didn’t find anywhere that tickled my fancy for lunch, so I ate late again, at yet another Wataburger. This time in Keene, nearly home.
Going down there, I left 12:30 and got there around 6:30 or so. Coming back, I left at 9:30 and was back just after 2. By 2:30 I was enjoying the AC at home, barefoot, and already stepped in Winston slobber from drinking in the toilet.
It was glorious.
The mighty Kawasaki performed spectacularly. Getting battered in the wind, and my impatient throttle control, it didn’t get good mileage on the way down. On the way back it sipped gas. I was tooling along at 75 on a flat road I glanced down at the instrument cluster, and the computer said I was doing 70 mpg. All in, I think I spent around $45 on fuel. Keep in mind, it needs premium, so I was spending upwards of $5 a gallon.
From the moment I hit 165 Monday night and all the way home Tuesday the ride was soul cleansing. The bike has a way of clearing my mind. Still, I got to thinking that if I were to make this a habit, maybe 3 hours would be better. If I keep doing 5-6 hours, I’m thinking a Goldwing may be in order. The thing is, that’s a big bike that will be even tougher to ride around town.
We’ll see what the next one will be. I don’t have a ton of time before it gets too hot to be doing this sort of thing around here. Maybe I’ll do some short, early Saturday morning rides until fall. April is shot already. I’ll be in DC in the middle of the month, and I may have a surprise trip to Mexico between then and now. When I get a breather, it’ll be May. A few weeks before the heat kicks in hard.
Inspected By Pat 