BIG BEND 2009
 
 

Day 02

February 26

 
 

I'm up early, close to 5:30 AM, so I can meet Andy at 6:30 at his motel. As it turns out, Andy's motel is a straight shot down West Sandy Lake from Ken's house. So hopefully this day will end with a lot less drama than yesterday. I did very little unpacking of the bike, so I'm good to go very quickly. Depending on what kind of trip I'm taking, I try to sort my stuff out so I have to take the minimal belongings in overnight. Ken has given me great instructions on how to 'get out of Dodge' and avoid most of the Dallas/Fort Worth morning traffic. After scraping my face and brushing my chips, I'm ready to roll. Ken walks out to the garage with me.

"Ken, thanks again for putting up with me. I reckon I'll see you Sunday afternoon with Andy - if I don't lose him again!"

We both have a good laugh, I give him a hug and ride off into the early morning.

 
   
 

Ken has warned me about the local 'revenue enhancers' in the area, so I just poke along the deserted streets like a good citizen. I spot the motel just off to my right and pull into the parking lot. The V-Strom is already loaded, and Andy is standing in the door. He checks out of his room, and we hit I35 to fight it out with the morning commuters.

 
 
 
 

It's actually not too bad, and we manage to get out on the open road without getting split up. My stomach reminds me it's been a long time since supper and the gas gauge tells me Frost is hungry too, so I start scanning road signs. Up ahead in Weatherford, there's a Cracker Barrel and gas, so that will work just fine. As we pull off the ramp, I notice the IHOP sign over to the right, but traffic is stacked up. I head for the gas station on the left where the Cracker Barrel is. Once Andy pulls in, I yell to him -

"Let's head for that IHOP over yonder. We did Cracker Barrel yesterday."

As usual, he's fine with it, so with the motorized beasts filled, we head to IHOP to fill the unmotorized beasts.

 
 
 
 

Over breakfast, we talk a lot about this trip, the upcoming trip, and the general state of things. Nothing like good conversation over a good meal! And besides, in IHOP I now qualify for the 'seniors omelet and pancakes'. Who'd ever thought I would have lasted this long? Andy reminds me

"I need to stop somewhere and pickup some tent stakes. I think I left mine at the house."

"I'll keep my eyes open for a Wal-Mart or something along the way then. Maybe they'll have a gas station there too" I tell him. "We're gonna be close on making to Carlsbad Caverns in time. We'll just have to see how it goes."

Having dispatched the food easily and solved all the world's problems laid before us, we're back on the road in short order. As we approach Sweetwater, Texas I see the familiar Wally World sign - and this one has gas pumps too. Some days I'd just as soon be lucky if I can't be good. We work our way off I20, through the parking lot dodging the errant shopping carts and pull into the pumps. I move Frost off to spot away from the pumps when I'm done. I always try to park away from the pumps once I'm gassed up if there aren't many pumps. I guess this comes from working at a small country store that only had one gas pump. If somebody stayed there, nobody else could get gas and it could make for some unhappy people. Strange how early lessons learned early tend to stick with us for a lifetime. Many folks nowadays never think of the 'other feller' and how their actions impact him. Andy pulls his V-Strom in behind me, and heads for the store to get his pegs. Whether you love 'em, or hate 'em, Wal-Mart usually has what you need and they do in this case also. I occupy myself by sipping a Diet Coke and munching down a few cookies until he gets back.

 
 
 
  As we head out for Big Spring which will be our welcomed 'exit' from the slab for a while, I can't help but notice the power generating windmills stretching way out to the horizon. Every direction I look, they stand as silent sentinels waving their three arms at passerbys. It's a prudent technology, especially for windy areas like this, but they sure are ugly any way you slice the pie.  
 
 
  The slab just seems to stretch on and on with the never ending fields as a back drop. Having grown up in the hills where such 'flat spots' were the rare exception, I am always fascinated with the sight. But I've got to have a 'high spot' to look out from and that would have to be a telephone pole around here.  
 
 
  Highway 180 out of Lemesa looks about the same - just two less lanes than the slab and lot less traffic. It will take us all the way to our destination for the evening - the Guadalupe Mountains National Park campground.  
 
 
  Seminole Texas works for a gas stop, so we patronize the K.W. Express which has a little local sit down place inside. But the cigarette smoke is so thick in there, that I finally go back outside. I figure three packs of secondhand smoke should be enough to last me for a while.  
 
 
  Just before we get into Hobbs, New Mexico, I get another one of my state line sign pictures out of the way for Frost. This one will go on my 'easy, safe' list of places to shoot since it has very little traffic and a nice pull-off place.  
 
 
  We wander through Hobbs, then into Carlsbad looking for the signs to the caverns. I'm a bit amazed that there are only very small signs indicating the way and simply say 'Caverns'. I would think that something like that would be a lot better signed, but that seems to be the norm for New Mexico. While we are sitting at a traffic light in Carlsbad, I notice the wind is really gusting. I get hit with a side wind that almost blows me and Frost right over. I recover quickly, but the sheer force of the wind twists the windshield and breaks a bodywork tab off near where the windshield attaches. As we move out of town, the wind grows in it's intensity. I thought coming across Utah from Salt Lake City was bad, but this is almost unbelievable. But then there's nothing blocking the wind on this deserted stretch of the road to the caverns - except us.  
 
 
  It's a bit of an unpleasant ride, but we finally arrive at the 'front gate' which is nestled between some hills and out of the wind. Realizing we are right close on time, I snap a quick picture then head for the entrance. It is with much restraint that I obey the posted speed limit as I do not know it is so far from the gate to the cave.  
 
 
 

Andy gets traps behind some potato and peg paraders so he's a little distance behind me. I dismount and rush inside, hoping we are in time to see the caverns. The little twentysomething lady behind desk informs me with an air of dismissal that we cannot go in.

"But ma'am, I've just driven 1,200 miles to see this place" I plead in my best mannerly way.

"Well, we'll be open tomorrow" she tells me.

"Well that's nice but I won't be anywhere near here tomorrow."

I notice we are only 5 minutes late and the park is open for another 2 1/2 hours. But so much for our public servants at work - no mercy dwells in this lady's heart. I wander back outside to catch Andy before he pulls all of his gear off.

"Well buddy, we're just a little too late. And we sure ain't gonna get any mercy inside either."

We decide we will at least use the facilities since we are already here. I also snap a picture of the view from the visitor's center.

 
 
 
  It's short ride from the park to where we will be camping and so at least we'll be getting in to set up camp in the daylight. I sure don't like setting up in the dark cause I've had to do it a time or two. Uncertain of exactly where the campground is located, I blow by the main entrance looking for a particular road. Turns out the maps are bit off, and the main entrance is the way to where we want to go. The wind is fierce as my flag is flying straight out - and it does this going 60 mph down the road! We do an about-face and head into the park.  
 
 
 

As we pull into the camping area looking for the campsite, a rider comes walking up to us.

"My name's Rick. You looking for the ST group that was here?"

"Yep, we're gonna camp with them tonight and then ride to Fort Davis with them tomorrow."

"Well, they just pulled out about an hour ago. Said it was too windy for them and they were headed for Fort Davis" he tells me.

"Well if that don't beat all. You talking about Joe, Mac, George and the group?"

"That's them. The wind blew George's bike over last night. If you're headed there, you've got about 150 miles ahead of you."

My brain goes into calculating mode - it's gonna be about 8:30 by the time we get there and we'll be traveling through a veritable 'zoo' of wildlife in the dark. I park the ST, and break out my map to have a refresher course. I ask him

"Best way to take 54 to I10 to 118 from here?"

"Yes, that's about it."

"Well, if you have their phone number, tell 'em I gave all the pies to you" I say with a grin. "Thanks again for letting us know. We could've wander around looking for them a long time."

Andy and I get the bikes turned around and head out the entrance. The sun is already going down and we've got miles to go before we sleep.

 
 
 
  Some days are just like that, but you just suck it up and go on. This area is so windy that they have wind socks along the highway and they are standing straight out. It makes riding a little tough, but this ain't our first rodeo. We are racing against the sun setting and I know we won't win that one.  
 
 
  Once we reach I10 we can blast along with the speed limit at 80 MPH. We eat up a lot of ground and a lot of gas. As the sun sets, we turn on 118 - the land of plenty of wildlife. I know when the darkness comes, we'll have to poke along unless we want a furry companion or two between our handlebars.  
 
 
 

Once the sun sets, each mile brings a challenge to try to see what may be out there. We have the road to ourselves, except for the wildlife. Every time I see deer or such on the side, I signal Andy with my brake lights. We pass several herd of deer and one herd of elks placidly enjoying the roadside fodder - and it improves my prayer life considerably. I'm really thankful that they decide to relish the buffet instead of playing in the street. Andy sees several havelinas also but they too decide to stay off the road. I narrowly miss one big coon who decides he wants to play dodge 'em. As we climb the road near the observatory, it gets pretty twisty. We just take our time cause this ain't the time or the place to test our road gear's effectiveness. As we come down the mountain, I blow right past the entrance to Davis Mountains State Park because it says "Indian Lodge" with no word about campgrounds. After we run on down the mountain, I realize that it's probably only got one entrance and that was it. So once again we do an about-face and head back. Nobody's at home at the front gate, so we ride on in, hoping we'll find the 'campers' somewhere. I have the campsite number, but I don't have infrared eyes so it doesn't do me any good. As I ease along, I spot a bunch of reflectors off to the left which should mean a bunch of motorcycles. When I pull in, I see some STs so I figure this must be the place. I dismount and walk over to the picnic table where they're gathered.

"Anybody seen that Joe feller around here?" I ask.

When he responds, I tell him

"Thanks a bunch for waiting us buddy. I told you I was coming" I say with a grin that he can't see in the dark.

We head back over to start unloading the bikes. Nothing like setting camp up in the dark, but Andy and I pull it off with Joe's helpful flashlight holding. Once we're pitched, I retrieve the three pies, the plates and the spoons and forks that I have been carrying in my topbox since Nashville. I put them on the picnic table and tell the group -

"Well, I said I was coming and I did. I said I was bringing pies and here they are. And here's the plates and spoons and forks that I said I was bringing."

We all have a good laugh, and they light in on the pies. The pecan is the first to succumb to the attack, and the cherry is next to be vanquished. I'm just glad to be off the road with no accidents and no fur bearing creatures. George, another rider friend who was supposed to have waited on us, had cooked up some extra grub for supper. He kindly offers it to us, and we are more than willingly to make quick disposition of it. With a good meal in my belly, I head for my sleeping bag, ready for some much needed relief from a long day. As I nod off, I say so myself

'So much for no drama for the day ...'