Riding the Twisted Sisters – Two

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You may be relieved to learn this will be the last motorcycle riding post for a while. These forays are a labor of love, but my bike and I are in need of a refit before we sally forth again. A thorough washing, oil change and new rubber fore and aft are high on the list. The bike probably needs something, too. So, if you enjoy these interludes, savor this one. If not, you can return the Dramamine to the medicine closet – after today. Everybody wins.

Second, the sound track on the video is not my first choice. It's not second or even third. Originally, I selected ABBA (Take a Chance on Me.) and The Grateful Dead (Truckin). The trouble began when I uploaded the video to YouTube. There, I ran afoul of the Global-Anal-Music Biz. They balk at folks sharing their music in public. Eventually, I selected something nondescript from the “Approved Music” list. [sigh]  I think it might be the soundtrack from a skin flick. Seems to work, tho.

The tour of the Twisted Sisters was five hours of what you see on the video. At the end of the ride, I was exhausted in the most wonderful way. (Still am.) I also had more than an hour of video from the trip. Funny, it took all weekend to find the ten minutes that seemed to capture the flavor of the country and the ride. It was good that I reviewed the video. Otherwise, I might never have seen the grandeur on the roadsides. On those twisty roads, a glance left or right at the wrong moment could result in my becoming part of the scenery. In some respects, you and I are seeing the country the same way.

After licking the apple strudel from my fingers in Medina, I found Ranch Road 337 and headed west.  The twisty roads showed up almost immediately.  Signs reading "Sharp Curves and Steep Grades Next 5 Miles" were stacked a hundred yards apart.  I recognised this as overkill, along with the sign that read "Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here...".  The Texas Department of Transportation is well-known for its aversion to adventure on its highways.

Traffic was light to non-existent.  Many of the four-wheel vehicles are operated by locals accustomed to motorcycle traffic along these byways.  Accordingly, they drive on the shoulder to save the effort of moving over every two minutes to let the two-wheelers pass.  I consider their courtesy a good example for drivers everywhere.  There were more two-wheelers than cars and trucks on the road during my ride.  Harley-Davidsons, mostly, ridden by round-bellied, gray or balding men out to take the air.  Most of them were stopped or semi-stopped when I met or overtook them.  Still, it was comforting to be among "my own kind."  If you look close, you may see a bike or two in the video. Look quick.

Vanderpool was the first village I encountered west of Medina. I think I was in a state of shock when I arrived and may have failed to get even a snapshot of the place. No matter.  I'll get one next time.  Salivating heavily, I continued along 337 to Leaky, a village of 400 (mebbe) in Frio Canyon.  It is small, but pleasant and equipped with facilities for recreation, refreshment and shopping.  The "Hog Pen" appeared promising.

After taking a few quick breaths, I continued toward Campwood.  That's where I discovered an oasis called "The Motorcycle Stop."  They sell everything the cyclist might need.  Beer, grub and any article of clothing you could possibly need, especially if you need it in black.  It's is part of the Harley thing.  Me?  I love black, but I attend few formal occasions these days.

  

The breezeway at The Stop provides a pleasant refuge from the road, even if you only stay long enough for a glass of tea.  As long as I was there, I purchased a couple of T-shirts testifying to my riding prowess.  I felt I earned a touch of badness.

Check out the view from the open air lounge.  I can imagine a very pleasant time, sipping a cold beer at the end of the day and watching the sun set behind the hills.  It was very civilized.  At left, two patrons wave friendly greeting.

The parking lot held a few bikes, taking refuge from the bright sun beneath a stand of oaks.  A couple mature looking bikers fussed about with them before strolling into the building.  Someone showed up in their Ferrari. Cool, eh?  I didn't hang around to find out who it was. Could it be Michael Schuhmacher?  Mebbe.

Finally, A picture of one of the tastefully decorated T-shirts I purchased to commemorate the occasion.  I hope you will scroll down to the Twisted Sister video, just beneath this post.  It is a little bit exciting, I think.  :)