I wake up, quietly grind my coffee with my Hario mini, and get my Aeropress going. The night prior was comically windy. The wind the previous evening was 12-18+mph, which is enough to make some silly things start happening. Even with earplugs, my tent would bend and gently whack my head each minute. I could hear tumbleweeds blow through camp, and then the wind picked up more. I heard sheet metal blowing through camp, and sitting up saw 2×2 and 3×3 aluminum roof panels cartwheeling through the desert.
Besides that, just a wonderful nights rest.
My plan for the day was a solo ride to Presidio along river road, and then to take Highway 169 up to Marfa. Highway 169 is gravel that runs past Big Bend Ranch State Park, so I wanted to check out that area. The rest of the group was doing the intro ‘Top of the World’ ride which I had done the year prior on the V-Strom, and it was a bit of a handful for me. Given that I needed the bike to take me to New Mexico next week, I erred on the side of caution.
The morning meeting at Espresso Y Poco Mas was a quality breakfast. Everyone paired up after a general ride route and safety briefing, and I told my fellow campers I was riding solo and where I would be. Having group time at the start/end of the day, but riding solo, fits pretty well with that extrovert/introvert idea I discussed in my previous post. I wrote my own schedule, left when I wanted, and could generally do whatever I pleased. I made sure to finish all of my beans, looking forward to the consequences.
River Road starts from the west side of Terlingua, and runs roughly 50-60 miles to Presidio.
This is where you may be expecting a deep and profound description of riding River Road, sprinkled with some philosophy, but that’s not really my style.
Duuuuude, this road is AMAZING! It’s up, down, left, right, it’s like you’re entering a cheat code on a Super Nintendo! And the SCENERY! Makes you want to caw like an eagle in your helmet, yeah!
Can you also believe that while I was taking all these pictures, my bike was blown over?! It caught on a wall on the right handlebar, breaking my brake lever two inches short, bending my cruise control, and nearly stripping out the screw holding my handlebar weight in. I take out my multitool and fix each of these one at a time, but the bike is definitely worse for wear. Not off to a great start.
I didn’t take a photo of this because there is some kind of primal urge in every motorcyclist, that when a motorcycle is not on a kickstand, you must right it ASAP.
I got to Presidio, pit stopped for another coffee at Presidio Pour-Over Coffee Co (…I got the pour over) and went back on River Road.
I said my prayers before venturing off-road.
Turning off River Road, onto Highway 169, the road turns to gravel with a few washboards and rocky sections. If the paved roads in the Big Bend area stretch straight for miles, the equivalent is also true for dirt.
I did give the bike the beans on this run. Strangely the road is bumpy until 30-35mph, then the faster you go, the smoother it feels. The bike also starts to get this great floaty, out-of-control-yet-in-control feeling. Squat on the pegs, grip the tank with your knees, and let yer’ legs be the shock absorbers your mom intended.
I was in quite big country. I know Highway 169 is technically a public road, but I saw no one, and fresh tires tracks in the sand looked in short supply. It was a clear day after all the wind the day prior, and it’s hard to really take in the enormity of the place sometimes.
After seeing no one for the last hour, my spider senses started to tingle. ‘I should be careful’ I thought. Of course, that is when I came over a small hill and straight into 6-12″ deep sand, making the front of the bike wander uncontrollably and burying the rear to the axle.
Heart beat rapidly spikes. I realize, as I always have known, that this is a heavy ass bike. In sand. To it’s axle.
I don’t take a picture because I am digesting the potential severity of the situation. If I can’t get unstuck, it’s a 20 mile walk out, and I haven’t seen anyone. I have food and water, but that would quickly turn this into a Type 2 day. Not fun at the time, but hilarious story later.
I take off my helmet and take in the situation.
According to the locals, the road would turn to pavement soon. How soon? I didn’t know, and I had a good 100 yards of more sand, with a hill climb at the end of it. If I pressed on and got even more stuck, I might hurt myself trying to wrestle the bike out, or not even be able to move it. I walked the way forward, and it was just more horribly deep and dry sand. That would not cut the cheese.
I suddenly regret not having more beans for breakfast.
I summon my strength and begin a hilarious 5 minute U-turn on the small patch of firmer ground. Forward, back, forward, back, turning ever so slightly each time. I fire up the bike, and give it some throttle while walking beside it. It begins to move and squeeze itself over the sand, and I pick up a jog.
I’m sweating buckets at this point but it’s clear that I will make it out of this, and equally clear that turning around is the right choice!
I get back to terra firma. Rejoice, traction! I head out back the way I came, and the views are equally spectacular. Although I wouldn’t make it to Marfa, not being stuck in sand suddenly feels amaaaazing!!!
Back on River Road, back to Terlingua, back to camp.
With the troops assembled, we ventured to the High Sierra Bar and Grill for the group dinner. The usual suspects made their appearances.
A great dinner, great company, great laughs, just great great great. You wouldn’t believe how great it was, or how great my vocabulary is.
I scooted back to camp in the darkness, headlights showing the way, surrounded by a starry night in a truly dark site. Goodnight sweet reader, for tomorrow we visit the McDonald Observatory, the mountains, and seek ADVENTURE (and beans)!
Enjoy the gallery for full resolution:
