117 miles on the Harley this afternoon. 80 degrees and sunny. Just couldn’t let it sit there in the garage. So, after a semi-successful trip to Lowes for a new lawn mower then mowing the lawn (as opposed to mowing the roof?), it was time to ride.
I headed south on 183 just like I do every morning on the way to work. Goes right down the western side of the big airport so it’s always fun when you get to the north edge of the runway and there’s this big jet just taking off. Guess that means the wind is out of the north today. Hmmm, doesn’t feel like it. What’s really fun is to see a jet taking off early in the morning through the fog. The headlights look like something out of Close Encounters.
The first thing you notice when you ride into Lockhart is the bar-b-que smell. The second thing you notices is there are bbq joints everywhere. Seriously. All small Texas towns have their bbq places but Lockhart seems to be the epicenter of bbq heaven. As you ride in over the bridge, you’re accosted by the Kreuz Market.
I hit town in mid-afternoon and the parking lot was packed. This place seems as big any any Target and people of all sizes, mostly XXL, were coming and going. I walked in just to take a gander and the line to where you order your food had snaked around to the front door. I literally opened the door, took two steps, and stop at the end of the line. And hungry hippos were piling up behind me quickly.
So, not to be caught in the current, I slipped into a couple of dining rooms to see what there was to see and found a sea of picnic tables and all the little piggies head-down into their, uh, meals. The smell was delicious as any bbq joint, good or bad, is. But, this was bbq grazing on a grand scale.
After checking in with Gowalla, I headed downtown to see what there was to see and found a street fair on the town square. It has a magnificent, old, Texas granite court house that looks just like you think it should. There were about two dozen E-Z Up booths set up around the court house selling all kinds of trinkets, doohickies, and prizes hand-made by local artisans. The corn dog tent gravity was very, very strong but I resisted. Even had a band up on a grandstand made up of local country/bluegrass-type musicians…the band members, that is, not the grandstand.
Met a guy from Arlington who came down to peddle some vacation packages. Seems he’s a marketing guy who works for a large hotel chain who, apparently, has travel and vacation packages.
Decided it was time to move on so I headed back west to pick up 672 north then FM 20 to Bastrop. This has to be one of the best motorcycle roads in the state. Some twisties, some hills, tons of scenery, and nearly deserted. One of the best rides of my life. Bastrop, on the other hand, was truly sucky.
Not the town but the ride home. I missed FM 962 and wound up on TX 71 which is just another wide, four-lane expressway between towns. Too fast, too many cars, and too windy. That’s the best thing about county roads: no wind. The roadside trees usually block the wind and that makes for a slice-through-the-air ride.
But, I finally got to 973 out by the Austin airport and quickly elected to take it to Manor, which is just east of the house. Got almost through Manor when some goober in an old, orange beater drove up to the intersection, looked right at me, and instead of stopping at the stop sign (probably because he couldn’t read), pulled onto the road right in front of me. Without my expert driving skills I’d have been like the proverbial bug on the windshield. I rather vocally expressed by displeasure of his driving and decision-making skills.
Speaking of bugs, you know what it looks like when a big, juicy, yellow-gutted bug hits your car windshield when your driving down the highway? Sure, you do. You know what it looks like when that kind of bug hits your eyeglasses as you’re riding down the road on a motorcycle? I do.
Oh, and you can always tell it’s spring time in Texas when you’re riding down the highway and notice (among all the roadside garage sales, onion salesmen, and pickup trucks selling pinatas and just about everything else you can imagine) a small hand-printed sign with an arrow pointing horizontally to you that reads, “YAK BURGERS”. Alas, the yak burger gravity was not that strong.