This morning was very cool for a south Texas day, in the low sixties. So the wife and I had to bundle up in our leathers at 8:00 am. I haven't really broke out my cold weather gear since I moved down here, and it took some time to ge use to (so much for global warming). It seems to be getting colder earlier every year.
So we took out, leather clad adventure-ers on a mission. At first we did not ride fast but took it easy. Making our way into town for a fuel up before hitting the highway. After a few minor adjustment to our gear, and some premium petrol we were off. Off to what ever the road would bring, and off to ride with the American legion riders for a benefit ride (to benefit St. Judes Childrens Hospital).
Low sixties dont seem very cold until you are moving 65 or 70 mph. then the wind will cut through you like a razor. We were good though. Leather is a great wind break, you see I have no wind shield. My bomber hat, neoprene face mask, old school leather jacket, and chaps protect me from the elements. But we were ok. Energized by the crisp air and the thrill of the road, we were great.
As we headed down the old highway toward our destination she leaned forward a little and squeezed me, oh happiness. I throttled through the twisties and the switch backs and smiled like a child playing in the park. We spent more time than we should looking off the side of the road into the woods and farms along the the way. This is some beautiful country. Each time we broke free from the shade of the trees we could feel the warmth of the sun on our leathers. Along with the cold air that penetrated the small openings in our gear. I thought of those songs about the warmth of the sun, and it being a good thing.
As we entered the small old town of Cold springs we saw what must have been hundred of American flags lining the roads. They couldn't be more than 10 feet apart through out the whole town. If you can picture a town from a western movie with paved roads, and now Old Glory picketed along the streets. It was a site to see. I knew then this was going to be one of those unforgetable days, that you look back on through out the years and know you lived a good life.
We rode on through the town, on to our destination. I feared abit that we may be running late, and it was a little warmer now so I poured on the throttle. Now we were tearing down the road not looking to much a the scenery, but focusing on the road. I didn't want to be late or rushed to get registered, and in line. As we aproached the camp site you could smell the smoke from the cook off before you could see the the event. Awwe we have arrived, and from the way the bikes were heleter skelter in the park I knew we had plenty of time to take off some of the cool weather riding gear before registering.
Upon registering we recieved our arm bands and t-shirts we were informed 5 minutes to kick stands up. We got back on the Matilda and got in line, you don't want to be in the back of the line. The best place is right in the middle of the pack. We then huddled together for a safety meeting and prayer, and returned to our bikes. The start up was an impressively thunderous roar,and we are off. First stop Pork chops ice house. We rode back through cold springs along that patriotic route this time as a rumbling entourauge of riders about 80 strong. In our company were many kinds of bikes and trikes, from stock factory bikes to customs, and home builters. A motley crew of women and men from all walks of life come together for one cause. To use our luxury for the benefit of some less fortunate.
As we exited the quite town of Cold springs, this time headed north we winded through the woods like a mile long snake. Suddenly we were crawling to a stop as there was some police trying to capture two escaped horsed on the side of the road. The thought of those frantic equine charging through the line of bikes made me uneasy. We slowly passed by, and were back up to speed in no time at all.
Pork chops is an ice house on the side of an old back highway around lake Livingston. Its not dirty or rundown but clean and nice kind of like a bar in your friends garage only larger. Its staff is a host of friendly biker types who serve with a smile and a gravely how are ya. The front patio is like a park gazebo with picnic tables made of 2x12's, and the inside is built out in wood, stained and clear coated. creating a warm ambience of southern style.
Next stop, is the Backwoods bar and grill, mine and my wifes favorite biker bar, bar none. This place is a little more rustic with an out side patio that wraps around the front and the side. The insided is also a stained wood only somewhat darker, and more relaxing its like the feal of an autmn evening when it starts to cool off, even when its 100 degrees out side. The staff is a hand full of good ole, biker gals, who remind you of that rebelious aunt who use to come to family reunions and have more fun than anyone else. Thier cook is a chubby little blonde who knows her way around a smoker, (the best food in a bar period).
TO BE CONTINUED........
