Rides, ramblings and rants on a motorcycle.
- We are scientists, too!
8.12.2007,4:12 PM
Run for the Hills
Or Hill Country revisited.
Late one Friday night I decided I'm heading to the Hill Country again for a day ride.
I left at 7:15 am the next morning after gulping two cups of coffee and wolfing down four scrambled eggs. Ice and flavored water went into the Camelbac, stuffed the big Texas Atlas map in the side bag, and rode off.
Zigzagging down lonely narrow winding country roads, some with a double yellow line, others with no line, grass taller than I on the bike bending over the roadsides, horses and more horses of every color and size, goats, sheep, cows, turkeys, vultures feasting on roadkill, stately pecan groves full of mystique, big sky with sparse giant puffy clouds. Smells and odors of livestock, aromatic artemisias, wild sages, creosote bush and mesquite, freshly cut hay, running rivers and creeks, hawks and songbirds, turning windmills, the rugged hills and mesas of the Edward's Plateau, limestone shale, greens, yellows, blues, the silty brown of the Colorado and Perdenales Rivers, and the sun... it felt so good.
I stopped for lunch and ice cream in the small town of Cherokee, filled my camelbac with ice and tea when gassing up, waved to the bikes on the highways, but....... out on those country roads it was just me. Me running on two wheels and everything around me.
I was tempted to keep going south, getting a room somewhere and making it a weekend. The ride was so grand, I was vibrating within. I just wanted to keep going. But I had to return and tend to things requiring my attention.
During this ride, all the dust and lint blew out of my head. I didn't take any pictures; I didn't even set the trip meter. I didn't care. Several things were flung out and left behind. I felt lighter.
Riding home into the fading sun thirteen hours later, cold shower to wash off the dust, sweat and grime, full after stopping for bbq and cobbler on the way home.... and life is good.
It was my ride: for me, with me, and only me. And I loved it.
Late one Friday night I decided I'm heading to the Hill Country again for a day ride.
I left at 7:15 am the next morning after gulping two cups of coffee and wolfing down four scrambled eggs. Ice and flavored water went into the Camelbac, stuffed the big Texas Atlas map in the side bag, and rode off.
Zigzagging down lonely narrow winding country roads, some with a double yellow line, others with no line, grass taller than I on the bike bending over the roadsides, horses and more horses of every color and size, goats, sheep, cows, turkeys, vultures feasting on roadkill, stately pecan groves full of mystique, big sky with sparse giant puffy clouds. Smells and odors of livestock, aromatic artemisias, wild sages, creosote bush and mesquite, freshly cut hay, running rivers and creeks, hawks and songbirds, turning windmills, the rugged hills and mesas of the Edward's Plateau, limestone shale, greens, yellows, blues, the silty brown of the Colorado and Perdenales Rivers, and the sun... it felt so good.
I stopped for lunch and ice cream in the small town of Cherokee, filled my camelbac with ice and tea when gassing up, waved to the bikes on the highways, but....... out on those country roads it was just me. Me running on two wheels and everything around me.
I was tempted to keep going south, getting a room somewhere and making it a weekend. The ride was so grand, I was vibrating within. I just wanted to keep going. But I had to return and tend to things requiring my attention.
During this ride, all the dust and lint blew out of my head. I didn't take any pictures; I didn't even set the trip meter. I didn't care. Several things were flung out and left behind. I felt lighter.
Riding home into the fading sun thirteen hours later, cold shower to wash off the dust, sweat and grime, full after stopping for bbq and cobbler on the way home.... and life is good.
It was my ride: for me, with me, and only me. And I loved it.
Labels: meanderings
