When will I learn, my gut is 90% correct? We planned a trip to the Texas Hill Country, attend a bike rally in Bandera then travel on to Houston to visit the Cummings. The Kansas weather had different plans for us. Instead of leaving on a Tuesday we waited out the weather and left on Thursday, on Wednesday night I made the comment that I think we should just wait and not travel at all or heaven forbid, go in the car (four wheels, yuck!). The forecast was overcast with chances of rain and the further south we were going to travel, it was “iffy”. I didn’t feel good about this trip, but the next morning we packed the motorcycle and away we went – south…..it never warmed up. The high was 48 degrees. When we arrived in Weatherford, Texas for the night I wasn’t sure I was ever going to stop shaking. The thought of getting back on the motorcycle the next morning made me want to cry. The weather was still not cooperating. Shocking!
Onward, brave little motorcyclist, traveling on to the town of Granbury, we were there in 1989; it’s a great little town with the most interesting town square. It looks like it is straight out of Back to the Future, minus the car. Great food, fun little shops and interesting people, I loved walking around and taking it all in. Time to ride again.
Next stop New Braunfels, through German country, I wish I could say it was beautiful but not ONE Bluebonnet did I see. However, the ride was nice, it finally warmed up a little and at the end of the ride was German food and beer. Bonus! Ride was worth it. We stayed the night and planned to take our time going back to Wichita. The weather was finally in the 80’s, the sun felt so good, I remembered why I loved riding.
We stayed our last night in Ardmore, Oklahoma. Our plans were to take the two lane highway all the way into Kansas but the weather once again was not in our favor. Thunderstorms were on the horizon. Crap! We decided it would be in our best interest to take Interstate 35 all the way to try and beat the weather. Unfortunately about two miles outside of Purcell, Oklahoma our back tire blew out and we were stranded on the highway for three hours waiting for the tow truck. I’m still having fun, right?
Once the tow truck arrived, two very nice gentlemen to whom I am eternally grateful, we were on our way to Wichita with the motorcycle strapped firmly on the back.
It was great to get away; really, I just wish I would listen to my gut more often.
Safe riding friends. Peace. Pam
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