HILL COUNTRY 2010
  
 

Day 05

May 04

  
  This morning we decide to try a local place next to the Motel 6 called the Save Inn Restaurant. It's nothing impressive on the outside, but a lot of times good places to eat are that way.  
   
  The good stuff is always inside, and this little place is no exception. There's a pretty model of a prairie log cabin and some other neat stuff sitting around. And I can tell there's also a bunch of 'regulars' - customers that frequent the place - sitting around also, which is a really good sign.  
   
  Since we are planning to ride the 'Three Sisters' (AKA as the Twisted Sisters) - Highways 335,336, and 337 - today, I figure a change in breakfast is necessitated. So instead of my usual omelet, I go for eggs and a rib eye steak. I figure that should really give me the strength to do what needs to be done - and I am not disappointed!  
   
  But there must have been something wrong, because that steak just evaporates right off the plate before my eyes. With due diligence done to the piece of dead cow, we walk back to the motel and get geared up. I'm sitting in shade as Ken fusses with his Starcom radio set again. But there is no joy so he still is stuck in 'hear only' mode for the duration of the trip. He sets up set up some GPS things and then we're off.  
   
  We head out of Kerrville on Texas 16 which is not a bad little road in itself once you get out town.  
   
  It starts out sort of straight and plain ...  
   
  but the farther south you get toward Medina, the more interesting it gets.  
   
  There's some nice ups and downs and twists as it follows the terrain of the area.  
   
  I am surprised at the abundance of small lakes like this one that dot the countryside. I haven't seen this as a usual feature of the Texas terrain, but then I guess I don't get out much in these parts.  
   
  The occasional shaded canopy gives a nice break from the constant sun and reminds me a bit of Mississippi or Louisiana.  
   
 

Each of Three Sisters has it's own 'personality', but they are know as 'the' roads to ride when you are in the Texas Hill Country. Soon we are on the first of the three we will ride today, Ranch Road 337. It runs from Medina and Highway 16 on the East to Campwood and Highway 55 on the west.

 
   
  Again the scenery is pretty and I spot another lake off in the distance.  
   
  There are lots of nice sweepers as 337 makes its way over the ridges and valleys of the West Texas hillside.  
   
 

And when I see this sign, I radio Ken -

"Oh no, sharp curves" as a grin stretches across my face.

  
   
  When we reach the outskirts of Vanderpool, we check on the motorcycle museum again, but unfortunately it is still closed.  
   
  Again I am a bit amazed at the scenery, as this could easily be a shot from one of the ridges in the Blue Ridge back in North Carolina.  
   
  And then some more of those nasty curves break into my sightseeing agenda and I feel forced to ride them properly!  
   
  And Ken is absolutely no encouragement for me to behave as he proceeds hastily around the next bend.  
   
 

When we get to Leakey (pronounced Lakey by the locals), we take a short break under the shade trees. I tell Ken -

"I'm gonna take a little walk and check out that store."

  
   
  Since I grew up working in a small country store, I am always interested in visiting them when I can. A feller never knows what he might find, and I find pay dirt on this one. They have a 'real' meat counter and I have a good feeling that a feller could get a killer sandwich around about lunch time. Its just like the place where I used to work, where we would make sandwiches with the meat as thick as you like and used fresh bread that was delivered that day.  
   
 

When I get back to Ken, I tell him -

"They've got a meat counter in that store and I bet you can get some killer sandwiches."

It is a little too early for lunch, and that ribeye is still down there for me to want to eat right now.

Ken tells me "Well, I don't really have any specific plans for lunch. We can work out to end back here about lunch time."

"Sounds like a plan to me" I tell him.

As I look around, I see a historical marker about the founder of the town, John Leakey. As it turns out, he was originally from Tennessee. I tell Ken with a big grin -

"Well, I reckon if it weren't for Tennessee, there wouldn't have been much Texas!"

  
   
  The shade is mighty nice, but the road is calling so soon we are back at it.  
   
  As we head north on 336, the second of the Sisters, we see this warning sign. And given what I've seen in the past few days of the stream crossings, I can understand it a lot better now.  
   
  Ranch Road 336 heads due north out of Leakey off of Highway 83 for about 26 miles then up to highway 41.  
   
  It's similar to 337 but yet different in its own way. The view from the ridges are very enjoyable as I always like a high spot to look out from, being raised in the hills of Tennessee.  
   
  And it has it's fair share of sweepers, which is just what the ST1100 is great at and what I enjoy the most.  
   
  Again I see one of those old windmills and snap a shot. This looks to be in good working order with the tail fin and rigging intact.  
   
  And here we go again with one of those nasty 'Steep Grades Sharp Curves' signs. It just sits there tempting us to see how sharp those curves really are.  
   
  This particular section sets up nicely because you can see down the hill and sort of know what to expect. I have a personal riding rule - 'Don't ride past what you can see and you won't end up on the ground'. When I can see what is coming up, it just adds joy to the experience - and makes it a little quicker.  
   
  After a little western jaunt on 41 that 336 terminates into, we make a left and are headed down south on the last of the Sisters, Ranch Road 335. 335 runs south about 30 miles from 41 down to Barksdale and highway 55.  
   
  After a stop at an overlook, I decide to run on ahead a little bit and play. The road surface in Texas is quite a bit different that what I am used to in Tennessee, so I want to stretch the envelope a little bit and get over my 'hesitancy'. If I can't read the pavement, I tend to not enjoy the riding as much.  
   
  I finally come to grips with the 'grip' of the road as I crank the wick up a little bit and get over my initial concerns.  
   
  As we move along quickly, the scenery is constantly changing as we crest one ridge after another. It is different from what I am used to and yet it has a beauty all its own.  
   
 

Then we come to one of those stream crossings and the water is almost lapping the edge of the road. I think to myself -

"It's as dry as a powder keg and the water is right up here. I bet it wouldn't take much rain and a feller would be knee deep in a swimming hole!"

  
   
  And every now and then we see a purple explosion of flowers stretching out toward the tree line.  
   
  And along the roadside, you do see some very interesting things. I'm beginning to wonder if Ken has taken me on a detour down to Australia. These kangaroos seem to really be enjoying the shade.  
   
  But when we go a little further, I decide he must have made another turn and is taking me to Arabia.  
   
  Soon we see this really nice fence that goes on and on. So somebody must have done really well - or else they're deeper in debt than the US treasury!  
   
  I marvel at the various shades of green and blue in this shallow river that we cross. Not quite deep enough for swimming, but it sure is tempting to stop and pull of my boots and give it a whirl.  
   
  But soon we're back to the curves that make riding the Sisters so much enjoyable. I prefer riding on back roads, and this is just the kind that I like.  
   
  Now we come to a section of road that reminds me of the old roller coasters - just a bit more stretched out.  
   
  I'm enjoying the day as I chase after Ken, since he has the GPS and he knows where we are going.  
   
  335 stops in Barksdale, then it's a short run down 55 to Campwood where we pickup the western end of 337 that takes us back to Leakey ...  
   
 

and lunch! As I had surmised, the Alamo Grocery does run a little lunch counter. And of things they offer a ribeye sandwich. Since that's what I started out with for breakfast, I figure why buck the trend? There's a feller sitting behind the counter taking up space while I wait, so we strike up a conversation. When he finds out I'm from Nashville, he tells me -

"Yep, I've been to Nashville. I went up with my best friend and his band. Our band had already beat out George Strait in a battle of the bands so we were good. My friend sounded just like Ray Price. But when we talked to the agent that managed Ray Price he told us -

"I've got the real Ray Price and three other guys that sound like Ray Price. I don't need number four."

"So we came back to Texas and that was the end of that."

"Yeah, Nashville is a hard place if your are a musician. There are hundreds of 'em, all good and willing to do whatever it takes to get noticed. Unless you know somebody on the inside, you're usually just out of luck" I tell him. "I know a lot of really good musicians in town, but most of them work at other jobs so they can eat."

Then my sandwich comes out, and man is it ever good. It would make a man's tongue beat his brains out if he had any. Ken and I go outside to a picnic table in the shade and enjoy our feast.

  
   
  After we fill us up, then we make a stop for our Steeds, as they will need extra gas to carry the extra weight we now are packing internally. I haven't seen a 'Humble Dealer' sign in years, so this one immediately catches my eyes.  
   
  As we head out of Leakey, we pass this crystal clear stream. It looks good enough to drink but I don't think I'll try it.  
   
 

Soon we are running 337 in the opposite direction. As I've often heard say

"Running a road in the opposite direction is just like running a different road."

  
   
  There are plenty of twists and turns and we both enjoy the challenges.  
   
  It's just curve after curve, mile after mile, smile after smile!  
   
  And then you hit a bit of straight stretch but you know it won't last for too long - thank goodness.  
   
  And then as we move closer to Kerrville, the road just seems to finally give up and straightens itself out for as far as you can see.  
   
  The different colors and natures of the local streams are interesting to me as they vary from this one that is languid and dark green ...  
   
  to this one that almost looks like a cypress swamp with light tans and light greens as the water ripples over the gravel ...  
   
  to a lazy light green and clear as it moves out among the trees nourished from it's flow.  
   
 

Soon we are back at the Motel 6 and I have the pleasure of meeting Satchmo, the wonder dog. His lady human and her friend are sitting upstairs on a balcony as he does what dogs do. Of course, he stops by me so he can get a professional petting.

"He sure is a pretty boy" I tell his human. "What's his name?"

"Well, I'm originally from New Orleans but I now live in Vermont. I love jazz music so I named him after my favorite musician."

I don't know if this Satchmo could play a jazz trumpet like his namesake, Louis Armstrong, but he sure has the nose for sniffing.

  
   
  Supper is calling, so I put SweetTreat to bed for the night. Tonight we decide to hike back down to the Cracker Barrel and hope for a little better service than the last time.  
   
 

This time we get a sweet lady that enjoys what she is doing and gives us excellent service. There is a world of difference between somebody who enjoys what they are doing and somebody who just does what they have to do. As we enjoy our meal, I tell Ken -

"I believe I like 337 best of the three. It reminds me a lot of highway 30, one of my favorite roads in Tennessee".

When our server asks us the 'dessert' question, I look at Ken -

"Well, I don't usually eat much sugar, but since I've ridden the Three Sisters today, a celebration is in order!"

I ask her to bring me some of that coca cola cake and ice cream - and of course a little bit more ice tea. I figure I can still breathe, so I can still eat. We finish the remains, settle up and make our way back to the motel. As we near an intersection, I notice something off to our right. In a flash, a small deer jumps us and nearly runs us down as it flies across the four lane to our left.

Ken says "Isn't that something - we ride the hill country for days and seldom see a deer. Then we walk back from supper and almost get killed by one."

Sometimes the twists and turns of life are just stranger than fiction. When we get back to our room, our keys no longer work. It takes a couple of trips to get it sorted out, but finally we are back into the nice air conditioned space. The stretching of my stomach skin soon pulls down the skin over my eyes and I drift off to pleasant slumber.