Route from Camp Wood to Buckhorn Lake RV Park, Kerrville, TX
89 miles , 11.1 mph
Best Moment – In Leakey, I stopped at the small general store to refill the water bottles and thought I might get an ice cream bar (I heard that they help with the hills.) Well, at the check out counter were some delicious looking baked goods – like small loafs of pecan bread, big pans of frosted brownies and individual buttermilk pies. The pie was amazing the crust so flaky and the filling so smooth and sweet. I’m sure that it helped me up the next series of hills – at least that wonderful taste stayed in my mouth for several miles.
Worst moment – Okay, I can’t lie, it was the hills and the headwinds just outside of Camp Wood. Some of the grades were 10%, but that was pretty much all day. The grades were straight up – then straight down. Climbing those series, I remember thinking Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit - this seems impossible. So much for the Little Engine That Could’s “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can,” optimism. It was another tough day.
This is really Friday Night Lights territory. These little tiny Texas towns with signs to the high school football stadiums and big signs indicating when they won the state championships, even though it may have been a few years ago.
The other thing that today’s ride should be noted for is the number of motorcyclists. These roads, curves and little towns have to be pure heaven for those cyclists with gas, rather than granola, powered pistons. The small town of Leakey was overrun by what seemed to have been hundreds of Harleys, BMW’s and every other kind of high-end powerful motorcycle. The RV Park is similarly dominated by motorcycles – they even have one hanging above the common room. I couldn’t help but think how much my motorcycling friends would have enjoyed today’s ride on their version of “bikes.”
Texas is suffering from dry windy conditions. I could smell the wild fires burning somewhere on the road between Vanderpool and Hunt. Also I could see the smoke. The moon is obscured by smoke haze.
Along the beautiful Guadalupe River I smelled the jasmine and honeysuckle of spring. This area sort of reminded me of the area around the Russian Bonita. There were very nice homes, camps and resorts all along the river between Hunt and Kerrville. One property was especially interesting as they had upside down boots on every fencepost.
Finished listening to Sea Wolf. Jack London could really tell a story. It is tragic that he died at 40.
No comments:
Post a Comment