The upcoming 4th of July weekend allowed me a break from work and a chance to do a short ride. Of course, Big Bend was the perfect destination to make me feel like I’d gone someplace special… except the idea of the murderous heat that would be there. Checking the weather forecast, I was surprised to see “relatively” mild temperatures predicted for the region.
The next morning, July 4th, I awoke suffering badly with allergies and feeling like I had the flu. The weather was overcast but reasonably cool considering it was July in Texas.
Pig Pre-flight
With watering eyes and feeling lousy, I headed down Highway 16 towards Kerrville and I-10, gassing up at the Shell station at the junction.
Another rider was fueling up and I had the feeling we were heading the same direction.
Expecting scalding heat, I’d suited up in my mesh pants and Joe Rocket Phoenix 4 mesh jacket. I also decided to wear a new MX helmet I’d just purchased since I hadn't had a chance to try it out yet and I hoped the open face would help with the heat. Since I had no idea whether the new untested helmet design would catch the high west Texas winds badly, at the last minute I stuck my old helmet on the back seat.
The temperature was unseasonably cooler than I expected and after my 20 minute ride into town, I was praying for the sun to come out. I got on the highway about 7:30 am, just as the clouds began to break. The air was still chilly but the sun came out in earnest about halfway between Kerrville and Junction.
Luuuuke... I am your faaather...
Sun at last - woohoo!
About 15 miles from Junction I entered a heavy fog bank which lasted until I had passed Junction. Visibility was bad - maybe 100 yards max. The fog condensed on my glasses so heavily I had to constantly turn my head to let the water run off. To make matters worse, I was feeling REALLY sick and debated whether to turn around and head back home. Deciding I'd rather be sick with allergies in Big Bend than at home, I pushed on. The chill was pretty strong, even after the sun had come out. I'd been expecting to be sweating by 9 or 10 am, but there was definitely unseasonal cool in the breeze.
Breaking out the other side of the fog
About halfway to Sonora, the rider who'd filled up next to me in Kerrville passed me going about 90 in the 80 mph speed zone. Eventually he slowed and we both exited for gas in Sonora. Turns out he was heading for Roswell from Houston. I didn't get his name, but he was originally from Paris, France and riding a Honda 919.
He asked if I knew where the gas stations were along the way, since his range was about 120 miles. I told him they were spaced pretty far apart for the next few hours, but not to worry - I had spare fuel cannisters on the GS and if he was out on the side of the road, I'd gas him up. He laughed and headed on.
Passing Ozona and Bakersfield, the terrain changed into large plateaus and vistas, including a few wind turbines.
Texas seems to be becoming a little like Holland - only not.
I could tell the weather was a little different since the air was still cool when riding and I almost had to stop and put a jacket liner in. Mind blown in a Texas July.
I reached Ft. Stockton about 10:30 and gassed up, my first tank of $4.50 gasoline. Gas is always higher in the region, whether due to lack of competition or greater delivery costs, I have no idea.
Still feeling crappy, I hit the local Walmart to get some Sudafed red, but no luck.
The pharmacy was closed so I headed on to check out the town before going south to Marathon. A run through the old downtown and surrounding neighborhood was interesting. Some really old adobe house remains are there.
Paisano Pete
Where’s Michael Jackson???
After getting a shot of "Paisano Pete", the giant roadrunner, I headed on down 385. A couple of blocks later, a guy on a bike pulled in front wearing a US flag shirt. I followed him for a ways, miles actually, wondering if he was going to Marathon as well. We reached a stop sign and chatted for a sec before heading on. After a ways, I got the feeling I wasn't going the right direction and stopped on the shoulder. He pulled over and informed me I was NOT on the road to Marathon but on the way to a prison. Aargh.
I told him thanks and headed back into town, where I found the turn sign to Marathon covered by an untrimmed tree limb.
My "slight detour" had been about 20 miles or more, so I topped off the tank again in case the stations in Marathon were closed on the 4th. Having lost almost an hour in Ft. Stockton, it felt good to finally be zooming southward.
The road was nice and easy, with only oilfield trucks on the way. I arrived in Marathon about 1pm and gassed up to $4.70 a gallon. Marathon was a way-station and water stop for the old railroad and currently is the gateway for the north entrance into Big Bend National Park, being the last stop for gas and supplies. It’s small but features a great old hotel with high end dining room.
Deciding to get lunch, I found my voice had disappeared to just a whisper and had trouble ordering the burger. A glass of sweet tea helped and I talked with a lady and her little baby boy for a while outside the little cafe. She had recently moved to Marathon and was strolling the baby around. The burger appeared and was delicious, despite my allergy hangover. Several folks spoke with me and I was asked to come back Saturday evening for the "Post Dance” and barbecue.
Locals catch up on news while I catch up on fat…
Jalapeno & grilled onion cheeseburger - mmmmm
The dance sounded interesting to me and I appreciated the invitation. I sought out the "post road" to check it out before heading south for the BBNP.
The ride into Big Bend National is always so nice, just beautiful and amazing scenery. At the park entrance, the gal informed me that Old Maverick road to Luna's Jacal was impassable from recent rains and that the Rio Grande had flooded, possibly filling the hot springs with mud.
At 45 mph, it took a while to reach Panther Junction, which sits roughly half way between east and west parts of the park.
Luckily they had gas and I refueled with a chocolate ice cream sandwich, called “Mississippi Mud”, to carry on the flooded hot springs theme. Woohoo! After hours in the sun and wind, the cold creamy goodness was awesome. The temperature had risen noticeably in the park and I was now sweating like crazy. My poor little sweat glands were exhausted, their tiny tongues hanging out to cool.
Don't hate me because I'm beautiful...
I rode on west out of the park to Study Butte and Terlingua, enjoying the views and stunning scenery. Rain drops came sporadically under the billowy clouds and I enjoyed the cool drops that hit my face.
Rain in the desert - a beautiful sight to see
I rode on through Study Butte and Terlingua, checking prices on a couple of motels and then looped through the Ghost Town, swinging by World Famous Uncle Roger's place. Sho' nuff he wasn't there as I expected, but the place looked good.
His gazebo was almost finished... either that or he was building a cedar version of Stonehenge.
I ended up at the Chisos Mining Company motel next to the hot pink Kathy's Kosmic Kowgirl Kafe. The motel clerk informed me that there was to be a parade that evening, starting in Study Butte and ending up at Kathy's about 7pm. The shindig was to benefit the Emergency Medical Services for the Terlingua area and there would be free food - donations accepted of course.
I checked in and cooled down some, finishing up with a shower before heading out to watch the upcoming parade.
Locals had begun to gather at Kathy's and you could see the parade a mile away in Study Butte forming up. The pre-parade tension was palpable.
After a while, the show arrived - a panoply of decorated International Scout 4x4’s, horses and riders, four wheelers, trucks, fire trucks, law enforcement and whoever else wandered in. At the same time, a couple of horsemen charged up the hill across the way with flags. The float people (floaters?) tossed candy to the crowd. Unfortunately we were across the road and the candy shattered and splattered on the hot asphalt.
Kathy was parade marshal in the lead Scout. The whole shebang was a hoot!
"Los Diablos" - a brush fire team from BBNP - received the biggest cheers by far!
The crowd thickened and food was served to the sounds of Texas music. I gorged on a combo of health food - hot dogs and chili, donated for the dinner and then bought a Terlingua EMS shirt to help the fund. Kathy came over, despite being busy running the show and told me that this was actually the “2nd Annual” 4th of July Parade to benefit the EMS. I was disappointed to find out I’d missed the 1st version the previous year, but then again I had no idea they had a parade anyway so I got over it.
Finally tiring of all the autograph hounds, stalkers and sycophants who wouldn’t give me a moment’s peace, I left the party for a ride down to the ghost town at sunset, wandering in the old cemetery and around the buildings for a few photos.
The General Store porch was derelict since the party was at Kathy's, save a couple of tipsy locals who’d had their own party and welcomed me to Terlingua with voluminous beer breath.
From there I headed back past Kathy's, where the shindig was continuing until late, to the motel adjacent for some sleep, exhausted from the ride in the heat and the hellacious allergies. Still, it was wonderful.
More tomorra...