Time to get started. I dug around in my folders and found this. I wrote it in 2006. It's just a few observations and a very rough sketch of the trip. I'll expound on things as we go in each chapter with the pics that go with each.
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One of the things I have always wondered is; if I was doing something that I loved, something that I'd love all my life, and doing it for the last time, and knew it would be the last time, would I have done it any differently. Would I have tried harder to imprint each moment in my mind so that I could relive it later when this time was relegated to the past?. Or would that knowledge spoil it and cause me to spend the entire time brooding about the end of an era.
I'ts kind of hard to say but knowing myself as I do I kind of suspect that it's best that I didn't know this would be my last ride.
As a result of my mothers vehement refusal to let even the tip of my little finger come into physical contact with any motorized object with only two wheels I was forced to wait until I was on my own before getting my first motorcycle. It was May something-or-other of 1963. I was stationed on Okinawa and bought a 1962 Honda Dream 125 in mint condition. That was the beginning of an era that lasted approximately 40 years.
I sold my last motorcycle, it was a Honda 1100cc V-65 Magna. Custom pinstriped by Bucky and sporting lots of goodies including custom seat and handlebar grips, in 2002. When the guy that bought it rode it out my driveway and around the corner, and I saw it and heard it's low, mellow roar for the last time, Pam and I were standing out on the driveway. It caught me completely off guard but as I got my last glimpse of it and it's throaty rumble for the last time, something in me just broke. I felt a punch in the gut and a lump in my throat.....there goes the last motorcycle I'll ever ride. It was all I could do to keep my knees from buckling. I almost went into shock.
Pam was standing right next to me and she must have been looking at my face at that moment because she moved around in front of me, put her arms around my neck and caught me with her pretty blue eyes. She told me not to feel bad. She said she understood the emotionl trauma I was going through and she would help me through it. She reminded me of the reasons it was time for us to "get off" and that we had many years of great memories to sustain us.She kissed me and told me she loved me and hugged me real tight.
Inspite of the fact that my heart was breaking (I was not selling the bike because I was tired of it, I still loved to ride, but it was just "time" and that's another long sad story.), I knew she was right and her strength and the power of her love would see me through.
And it did....and it still does....and it always will.
********************************************** The Ride ******************************************
My best friend, who was stationed with me on "The Rock" and had a motorcycle of his own, and I had been wanting to get out and go on a long road trip. We hadn't done that for a while and we were itching to get out for a few days and get a good mix of super-slab and back road. It was a sunny morning late in March of '98 when we took off and headed west. Our destination was Big Bend National Park, then on to points north and west. We spent the first night in Ft. Stockton. The ride was very pleasant. Uneventful but a nice easy first day of the 5-day adventure. We had a big steak dinner, hit the pool for a bit, and turned in early so we could get rolling all the earlier the next morning.
We went across Lake Amistad (SP?) and visited Judge Roy Bean's Law West Of The Pecos.
When we got to the entrance of the Park we stopped for a rest at the entrance sign and took some pics. Then we went on in and rode through the Chisos Mountain range. We rode to the top of Chisos Mountain and had a burger in the souvinere shop. The road going up the mountain was STEEP! It was a little on the hairy side too as there was a trench in the middle of the "going-up" side and there were rocks and gravel all over the road. Some excitement added to the day.
Later we went through Marathon and had a nice meal at the Gage Hotel. Finally we arrived at La Jitas, on the Rio Grande. We stayed at the Badlands Hotel there for three nights. We spent our time there just riding around the countryside and seeing the sights. Alpine, Terlingua, etc.
When we left there we went farther west to Presidio and turned North. We went to the McDonald Observatory and on through old Ft. Davis. We wound up in Leaky Texas, in the hill country and brother, let me tell you, there are some mighty fine roads for motorcycles in that area. Every inch of pavement offers challenge and thrills. We spent our last night out at the Whiskey Mountain Inn outside Leaky.
We woke up the last morning of the ride and guess what?!? It was 34 deg. F.!! A couple of days before, at the ranger station in BBNP it had been 110 deg. Neither of us had expected such extremes in Temperatures. But, Always lookin' on the bright side, we didn't see one drop of rain the entire time.
We took a winding little county road down from Leaky to old HWY 90 and rode until we got to a little town called Sabinal. We pulled in and ate a big breakfast and drank coffee until it warmed up some.
Then we mounted up and began the last day and the trip home. I can never express what that trip meant to me. We had thrills and chills but no spills. It was five full days on the road and just a wee bit over 2,000 miles on the bikes.
*****************************
I took this pic the second morning at La Jitas. A dust storm had blown through during the night and totally obscured all color from everything in it's path. I wish that I could adequately describe what it means to me. It haunts me. Every time I look at it my mind is flooded with memories and with the erie feelings that overtook me as I rode through that part of the country
Before the sandstorm, the Goldwing was a metallic pearl with gold trim and my Magna was a deep wine color with red, gold, and pale blue pin-striping. You wanna talk about "sand camo"....Everything, as far as the eye could see in any direction, was exactly the same color...the color of the ground. Had a very profound effect on me that has stayed with me all the years since.
This was a little before the days of the digital camera and I took this with an Olympus OMG outfit I was using at the time. What I was hoping to capture in the shot was the stark effect of the sand storm rather than just another shot of the bikes. In many ways, being there was like being on a different planet.
NOTE: this last part refers to some pics that I can't find. If they turn up I'll post 'em.
**************************************
One of the things I have always wondered is; if I was doing something that I loved, something that I'd love all my life, and doing it for the last time, and knew it would be the last time, would I have done it any differently. Would I have tried harder to imprint each moment in my mind so that I could relive it later when this time was relegated to the past?. Or would that knowledge spoil it and cause me to spend the entire time brooding about the end of an era.
I'ts kind of hard to say but knowing myself as I do I kind of suspect that it's best that I didn't know this would be my last ride.
As a result of my mothers vehement refusal to let even the tip of my little finger come into physical contact with any motorized object with only two wheels I was forced to wait until I was on my own before getting my first motorcycle. It was May something-or-other of 1963. I was stationed on Okinawa and bought a 1962 Honda Dream 125 in mint condition. That was the beginning of an era that lasted approximately 40 years.
I sold my last motorcycle, it was a Honda 1100cc V-65 Magna. Custom pinstriped by Bucky and sporting lots of goodies including custom seat and handlebar grips, in 2002. When the guy that bought it rode it out my driveway and around the corner, and I saw it and heard it's low, mellow roar for the last time, Pam and I were standing out on the driveway. It caught me completely off guard but as I got my last glimpse of it and it's throaty rumble for the last time, something in me just broke. I felt a punch in the gut and a lump in my throat.....there goes the last motorcycle I'll ever ride. It was all I could do to keep my knees from buckling. I almost went into shock.
Pam was standing right next to me and she must have been looking at my face at that moment because she moved around in front of me, put her arms around my neck and caught me with her pretty blue eyes. She told me not to feel bad. She said she understood the emotionl trauma I was going through and she would help me through it. She reminded me of the reasons it was time for us to "get off" and that we had many years of great memories to sustain us.She kissed me and told me she loved me and hugged me real tight.
Inspite of the fact that my heart was breaking (I was not selling the bike because I was tired of it, I still loved to ride, but it was just "time" and that's another long sad story.), I knew she was right and her strength and the power of her love would see me through.
And it did....and it still does....and it always will.
********************************************** The Ride ******************************************
My best friend, who was stationed with me on "The Rock" and had a motorcycle of his own, and I had been wanting to get out and go on a long road trip. We hadn't done that for a while and we were itching to get out for a few days and get a good mix of super-slab and back road. It was a sunny morning late in March of '98 when we took off and headed west. Our destination was Big Bend National Park, then on to points north and west. We spent the first night in Ft. Stockton. The ride was very pleasant. Uneventful but a nice easy first day of the 5-day adventure. We had a big steak dinner, hit the pool for a bit, and turned in early so we could get rolling all the earlier the next morning.
We went across Lake Amistad (SP?) and visited Judge Roy Bean's Law West Of The Pecos.
When we got to the entrance of the Park we stopped for a rest at the entrance sign and took some pics. Then we went on in and rode through the Chisos Mountain range. We rode to the top of Chisos Mountain and had a burger in the souvinere shop. The road going up the mountain was STEEP! It was a little on the hairy side too as there was a trench in the middle of the "going-up" side and there were rocks and gravel all over the road. Some excitement added to the day.
Later we went through Marathon and had a nice meal at the Gage Hotel. Finally we arrived at La Jitas, on the Rio Grande. We stayed at the Badlands Hotel there for three nights. We spent our time there just riding around the countryside and seeing the sights. Alpine, Terlingua, etc.
When we left there we went farther west to Presidio and turned North. We went to the McDonald Observatory and on through old Ft. Davis. We wound up in Leaky Texas, in the hill country and brother, let me tell you, there are some mighty fine roads for motorcycles in that area. Every inch of pavement offers challenge and thrills. We spent our last night out at the Whiskey Mountain Inn outside Leaky.
We woke up the last morning of the ride and guess what?!? It was 34 deg. F.!! A couple of days before, at the ranger station in BBNP it had been 110 deg. Neither of us had expected such extremes in Temperatures. But, Always lookin' on the bright side, we didn't see one drop of rain the entire time.
We took a winding little county road down from Leaky to old HWY 90 and rode until we got to a little town called Sabinal. We pulled in and ate a big breakfast and drank coffee until it warmed up some.
Then we mounted up and began the last day and the trip home. I can never express what that trip meant to me. We had thrills and chills but no spills. It was five full days on the road and just a wee bit over 2,000 miles on the bikes.
*****************************
I took this pic the second morning at La Jitas. A dust storm had blown through during the night and totally obscured all color from everything in it's path. I wish that I could adequately describe what it means to me. It haunts me. Every time I look at it my mind is flooded with memories and with the erie feelings that overtook me as I rode through that part of the country
Before the sandstorm, the Goldwing was a metallic pearl with gold trim and my Magna was a deep wine color with red, gold, and pale blue pin-striping. You wanna talk about "sand camo"....Everything, as far as the eye could see in any direction, was exactly the same color...the color of the ground. Had a very profound effect on me that has stayed with me all the years since.
This was a little before the days of the digital camera and I took this with an Olympus OMG outfit I was using at the time. What I was hoping to capture in the shot was the stark effect of the sand storm rather than just another shot of the bikes. In many ways, being there was like being on a different planet.
NOTE: this last part refers to some pics that I can't find. If they turn up I'll post 'em.
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My Motocross experience came in handy that day.
Use you're imagination as to the3 quality of service and food. Waitress with sweat stains under both arms and missing every other tooth. No table had any 2 legs the same length but they all had years of cigarette burns.
Anyway it was a very interesting place. 
