Friday, August 29, 2008
The Day of Rest? Or Frustration?
The alarm went off at 6:30 am, and I just rolled over and continued sleeping. The next two days would be getting up in the wee hours of the morning, and it had been a hellish week at work.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Laredo Bound
I loved the previous post. I wish I had been the individual that had written it, as it perfectly puts into words what I have felt for the past 35 years of riding. Yes, butterflies are a common occurance for me when I'm getting ready for a ride. Someone said to me, "I'd think after this long you wouldn't get them any longer." Personally, the day I stop getting butterflies for a ride, is probably the day I quit riding. Getting ready for this trip, the butterflies were more like dragon flies. For months, I have been planning this ride, along with my friends - Bobby & Dianne and Dennis. Dennis is the husband of another dear friend of mine, Sherryl, however Sherryl couldn't take the time off to join us. The four of us are doing a Border2Border Iron Butt ride. Leaving Laredo at 5:00 am, Saturday morning, 8/29/08. We will then ride to Canada in 36 hours or less. We are not strangers to doing the Iron Butt rides, and the other three have already completed a 1,500 Iron Butt in less than 36 hours. This will be my first.
We met at 9:30 to leave Dallas after the rush hour, since we would be taking I-35 south to get out of town. Traffic wasn't bad at all and before I knew it we were exiting I-35 to Hwy 67 heading towards Cleburne. I was surprised with all the trucks on the road, and they stayed with us until well after Cleburne. We pulled over for our first stop just east of Glen Rose, mainly to use the rest room and for me, get a fresh water to put in my cup holder - yes it was already toasty and I wanted to make sure I didn't get dehydrated. Afterall, we were heading south and it would be getting warmer and warmer the further south we went. Since we will be close and intimate with I-35 ALL DAY Saturday heading north, we decided to take a leisurely ride through the Hill Country, hooking back up on I-35 at San Antonio. Bobby told us the plan was to eat lunch at the Bluebonnet Cafe in Marble Falls - the three of us all instantainiously said "Mmmmmm." Back on the bikes, and continuing on our journey we go. Dennis couldn't resist sharing with me at each stop light, starting around Hamilton, that he couldn't decide what southern delicacy's he would be having for lunch; chicken fried steak or just hamburger, next stop, "maybe meat loaf," next stop, "with pinto beans and okra," and I've gotta admit I remember their okra and that got my taste buds dancing around. The next few stops it was "pie talk," and I was done. "ARE WE THERE YET?"
Lunch was fantastic as usual (for inquiring minds Dennis had gizzards) and we continued south full and satisfied. It had definitely heated up, so when we pullined in for gas at Johnson City it was time to check out my new "cool vest" Dianne had told me about. It's basically a light weight quilted vest, with a zipper. You dip it in water and let it soak it up. Then put that baby on and have instant cool down. Unfortunately it doesn't last with that kind of heat except for about 70-80 miles. Dianne and Bobby said if you put those "holely jackets" (my words not theirs) on it would keep the moisture in and cool. They did, and they were.
We hit San Antonio around 4:15 getting stuck in some slow moving traffic. We've seen worse, and it wasn't too bad. About 100 miles from Laredo (I can't remember the name of the town) we stopped for another fill up. We're standing there cussing the pumps not taking our credit cards, and having to go into the store when a Heritage Softail pulls up to the pump where we're standing there talking. The bike looked like it had been ridden hard, the man riding it looked like he had too, as his face was extremely sunburned, windburned, and overall tired. His attire was bandana, t-shirt, leather pants, and extremely white tennis shoes. Dianne was walking out of the store right as he was getting off his bike and we just looked at each other....no words were needed. For a split second we were both guilty of judging this dude, but then I started talking to him asking him where he was from. At first we didn't understand him right, then we found out he had left Buckhead, Arizona, rode up to Canada, spent time around the great lakes, stopped somewhere and spent time fishing, and that day he was crossing the border to go to Costa Rica. He would ride from one border to the next in two weeks.
We met at 9:30 to leave Dallas after the rush hour, since we would be taking I-35 south to get out of town. Traffic wasn't bad at all and before I knew it we were exiting I-35 to Hwy 67 heading towards Cleburne. I was surprised with all the trucks on the road, and they stayed with us until well after Cleburne. We pulled over for our first stop just east of Glen Rose, mainly to use the rest room and for me, get a fresh water to put in my cup holder - yes it was already toasty and I wanted to make sure I didn't get dehydrated. Afterall, we were heading south and it would be getting warmer and warmer the further south we went. Since we will be close and intimate with I-35 ALL DAY Saturday heading north, we decided to take a leisurely ride through the Hill Country, hooking back up on I-35 at San Antonio. Bobby told us the plan was to eat lunch at the Bluebonnet Cafe in Marble Falls - the three of us all instantainiously said "Mmmmmm." Back on the bikes, and continuing on our journey we go. Dennis couldn't resist sharing with me at each stop light, starting around Hamilton, that he couldn't decide what southern delicacy's he would be having for lunch; chicken fried steak or just hamburger, next stop, "maybe meat loaf," next stop, "with pinto beans and okra," and I've gotta admit I remember their okra and that got my taste buds dancing around. The next few stops it was "pie talk," and I was done. "ARE WE THERE YET?"
Lunch was fantastic as usual (for inquiring minds Dennis had gizzards) and we continued south full and satisfied. It had definitely heated up, so when we pullined in for gas at Johnson City it was time to check out my new "cool vest" Dianne had told me about. It's basically a light weight quilted vest, with a zipper. You dip it in water and let it soak it up. Then put that baby on and have instant cool down. Unfortunately it doesn't last with that kind of heat except for about 70-80 miles. Dianne and Bobby said if you put those "holely jackets" (my words not theirs) on it would keep the moisture in and cool. They did, and they were.
We hit San Antonio around 4:15 getting stuck in some slow moving traffic. We've seen worse, and it wasn't too bad. About 100 miles from Laredo (I can't remember the name of the town) we stopped for another fill up. We're standing there cussing the pumps not taking our credit cards, and having to go into the store when a Heritage Softail pulls up to the pump where we're standing there talking. The bike looked like it had been ridden hard, the man riding it looked like he had too, as his face was extremely sunburned, windburned, and overall tired. His attire was bandana, t-shirt, leather pants, and extremely white tennis shoes. Dianne was walking out of the store right as he was getting off his bike and we just looked at each other....no words were needed. For a split second we were both guilty of judging this dude, but then I started talking to him asking him where he was from. At first we didn't understand him right, then we found out he had left Buckhead, Arizona, rode up to Canada, spent time around the great lakes, stopped somewhere and spent time fishing, and that day he was crossing the border to go to Costa Rica. He would ride from one border to the next in two weeks.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Butterflies
The trip is planned, designed and mapped. Bags are packed, tanks full, bladders empty and we meet our travel buddies at the shop. We say a quick but devoted prayer, asking for blessings and safety along the way. It’s 6:00am and we are firing up to leave. Then … it happens….
As we pull out on the service road, this feeling starts to build. Yes, I know, we have the entire trip ahead of us but that doesn’t matter. I feel this anxiousness, an excitement, and it’s good. It comes on quick and I realize …it’s the butterflies.
As soon as it comes about it makes me smile. No one can see it because it’s still dark, but I feel it. We are less than 100 yards into a 2,300 mile journey over several southern states. This is not my first ride, be it long or short...not my first road trip. Why then the rumbling, the turning of the tummy? We haven’t even gotten through all of the potholes on the service road....what’s so special that it gives me butterflies?
I believe it’s the whole package. I’m excited about the road trip. It’s the fun of the ride on the open road....the views to behold. It’s riding with a group, no matter how small or large, but also at the same time, riding on your own. It’s having packed for every type of weather....from chaps to bathing suits...wondering which we will use first. It’s the photos along the way. It’s the guy you meet at the gas stop asking where you’re from and you talk briefly and happily about mutual road trips....and now you have a friend. It’s putting your hand out to wave at other riders on the road. It’s eating anything and anywhere, from the peanuts on the rack to the local diner where you stand down for the night.
I’m excited about all this and more…and it gives me butterflies. Will the bikes be ok? Did we do enough maintenance before this trip? I hope no one breaks down , but we are prepared regardless. Are all of us safe and respectable riders? We try to be for sure.... but then there are the other yahoos on the road. I hope they hang up the phone, stop texting and pay attention to this group coming down the road.
We’re down the road a ways and it’s hot. The miles keep running beneath us and the scenes go past us. The countryside is beautiful. The small towns are quaint. And what exactly was that dead thing smelling up the side of the road? Then reality of the large city sets in. Why is there construction with no one working?? And just why is this detour here?....Why does the GPS not know this!?! (who brought that thing anway?)
Fast forward....arrived at first destination goal. The butterflies are back, and what fun it is! The twists and turns and switchbacks on the road - the slight glimpse of the scenery you pass. Downshifting, throttling through the dips. Jeez this is fun! Get the t-shirt/patch/stickers. Let’s do it again. The crotch rockets go by you. Two have on helmets with colored Mohawks. We meet them later, sharing stories and they are enjoying their ride as much as we are. I named them Thing 1 and Thing 2.
The next destination is coming – we leave late r than planned thanks to the 4-hour delay by Mother Nature, but we heed the warning and respect her wishes. Up comes another place we’ve never been and it brings more butterflies of fun….the mountain pass, the traffic, the heat in the valley, the cold air in the clouds. Take the jacket off – put it back on. More detours – but each leads us to a road unplanned to travel. Now we can say we’ve been there….wherever that was….
Then comes the sad part – the ride home. It’s the same number of miles getting home as there were getting here, but why are these less than fun? Yes, we’ll be home in our own comfortable beds soon, painted ponies back in their own garages, all things back to normal… but this leg of the trip is not as exciting. It brings no butterflies.
All these things are expected – yet unexpected. Each mile is similar, yet different – but all are welcomed. We ride to put miles on the bikes, but to put memories in the book as well. It’s the stories we will tell, the laughs we will belt out and the drinks we toast at the end of the day. We are so fortunate to be able to live in a country where we can come/go as we please. We are thankful to be able to ride our motorcycles.
Maybe I’m the only one who gets butterflies – and that’s ok. Maybe I’m the only one who will admit to it… and that’s ok too. I just know I’ll be happy when they happen again. I’ll be excited for the next round of long miles on my motorcycle…. and the butterflies…..
As we pull out on the service road, this feeling starts to build. Yes, I know, we have the entire trip ahead of us but that doesn’t matter. I feel this anxiousness, an excitement, and it’s good. It comes on quick and I realize …it’s the butterflies.
As soon as it comes about it makes me smile. No one can see it because it’s still dark, but I feel it. We are less than 100 yards into a 2,300 mile journey over several southern states. This is not my first ride, be it long or short...not my first road trip. Why then the rumbling, the turning of the tummy? We haven’t even gotten through all of the potholes on the service road....what’s so special that it gives me butterflies?
I believe it’s the whole package. I’m excited about the road trip. It’s the fun of the ride on the open road....the views to behold. It’s riding with a group, no matter how small or large, but also at the same time, riding on your own. It’s having packed for every type of weather....from chaps to bathing suits...wondering which we will use first. It’s the photos along the way. It’s the guy you meet at the gas stop asking where you’re from and you talk briefly and happily about mutual road trips....and now you have a friend. It’s putting your hand out to wave at other riders on the road. It’s eating anything and anywhere, from the peanuts on the rack to the local diner where you stand down for the night.
I’m excited about all this and more…and it gives me butterflies. Will the bikes be ok? Did we do enough maintenance before this trip? I hope no one breaks down , but we are prepared regardless. Are all of us safe and respectable riders? We try to be for sure.... but then there are the other yahoos on the road. I hope they hang up the phone, stop texting and pay attention to this group coming down the road.
We’re down the road a ways and it’s hot. The miles keep running beneath us and the scenes go past us. The countryside is beautiful. The small towns are quaint. And what exactly was that dead thing smelling up the side of the road? Then reality of the large city sets in. Why is there construction with no one working?? And just why is this detour here?....Why does the GPS not know this!?! (who brought that thing anway?)
Fast forward....arrived at first destination goal. The butterflies are back, and what fun it is! The twists and turns and switchbacks on the road - the slight glimpse of the scenery you pass. Downshifting, throttling through the dips. Jeez this is fun! Get the t-shirt/patch/stickers. Let’s do it again. The crotch rockets go by you. Two have on helmets with colored Mohawks. We meet them later, sharing stories and they are enjoying their ride as much as we are. I named them Thing 1 and Thing 2.
The next destination is coming – we leave late r than planned thanks to the 4-hour delay by Mother Nature, but we heed the warning and respect her wishes. Up comes another place we’ve never been and it brings more butterflies of fun….the mountain pass, the traffic, the heat in the valley, the cold air in the clouds. Take the jacket off – put it back on. More detours – but each leads us to a road unplanned to travel. Now we can say we’ve been there….wherever that was….
Then comes the sad part – the ride home. It’s the same number of miles getting home as there were getting here, but why are these less than fun? Yes, we’ll be home in our own comfortable beds soon, painted ponies back in their own garages, all things back to normal… but this leg of the trip is not as exciting. It brings no butterflies.
All these things are expected – yet unexpected. Each mile is similar, yet different – but all are welcomed. We ride to put miles on the bikes, but to put memories in the book as well. It’s the stories we will tell, the laughs we will belt out and the drinks we toast at the end of the day. We are so fortunate to be able to live in a country where we can come/go as we please. We are thankful to be able to ride our motorcycles.
Maybe I’m the only one who gets butterflies – and that’s ok. Maybe I’m the only one who will admit to it… and that’s ok too. I just know I’ll be happy when they happen again. I’ll be excited for the next round of long miles on my motorcycle…. and the butterflies…..
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
