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Ride Report: Van Horn and the Lost Trail
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[QUOTE="Tony Eeds, post: 1016887, member: 32023"] [b]Day 02[/b] Day 02 dawned cold and clear. Breakfast complete and stoked with coffee, we headed south on US 90 towards our destiny with the past. For those not familiar, Steve organized the first Lost Trail Ride the first weekend of August last year and six of us completed the ride. Steve, Stevie, John, Bill, Ian and myself, ably supported by Steve’s wife, Linda. That trip was full of memories fit for a lifetime and we were going back. That being said, as many of you know, this ride was different, as Stevie died in December from injuries sustained in a motorcycle accident during a ride we were on in Big Bend. I was lost in my own thoughts, as I imagine others were, as we leapt into reality standing with one foot in the past and one in the present. The cold of the morning crept through the cracks in my armor, reminding me of that day as well. FM 2017 lead us to Chispa Road and the start of the Lost Trail. Taking up the position as Steve’s wingman on the first leg south. With pleasure, I watched a man lost in his element. Steve is poetry in motion on a bike, knowing the right gear and speed for every occasion. I learned a lot riding at his side on Saturday, perhaps most importantly how much I have left to learn. Familiar and yet unfamiliar, as we were running the route in reverse of our ride in August, I found the path more difficult than before. Loose rocks were everywhere and we were dodging either the rocks of the mesquite thorns tugging at our gear. Trying to make sure I had enough gas to reach Presidio, I found myself running in gears far higher than I was used to. Not faster as much as smoother, I learned something about 4 strokes, keep the revs down and the speed up. Stopping a couple of times along the way for photos (at a bridge and at the pickup truck submerged in the mud) we began to make new memories of new trips. Reaching Candlelaria, we encountered blacktop and quickly ate up the 48 miles into Presidio and lunch. Lunch was at the El Patio Restaurant. From the look on the faces of other patrons, they must not have expected to see Power Rangers. Filled and fueled up and knowing that we had gas enough to make it back to Van Horn, we dialed it up a notch and sped back towards Candlelaria and the start of the Lost Trail up SH170. SH170 is often mentioned in the top 10 rides in Texas, but in my opinion, many are leaving out a nice part, if only because of the history, by not traveling the entire length of the road. Steve and Bill went on ahead and Ian and I rode at least 15 miles side by side separated by not more than a couple of feet at any point. Up, down, around corners, it didn’t matter; we were on rails, and our engines rose and fell in sync. If you have never done it you need to try it someday. The thrill cannot really be described, only felt. At various points we caught sight of Steve and Bill and at one point I fancied that we might catch them. That thought was interrupted. Remember my point about the changing of the flat? Well here we go again. I was riding along having a swell day when what did I hear but pfft ...pfft ... pfft ...pfft. You get the picture? We stopped in the middle of BFE and proceeded to locate the problem. I was bummed that the slime in my tire didn’t work. After locating and removing the one inch long thorn, Ian points out 5 more that he could see in about a one foot section of my tire. I guess the slime really did it’s job! Now for the comedy, I didn’t want to mess with changing tube, so we decided to see if the slime would fill the hole and I could inflate the tire with my handy dandy tire pump. Oops, it would not fit tight enough and all the air leaked out. Never fear said Ian as he whips out his CO2 inflation device. Get what, it didn’t work either, at least past the one tube that was in the durn thing. Talk about two of the Three Stooges, that was Ian and I! Giving up on changing the tire, I sent Ian on ahead and gaming fired up the bike to gingerly motor onward towards pavement. It was only about 25 miles in the distance. Ian soon returned as he realized it would be better to be lost together than alone (my bad, because I should have known that from my days mountain climbing) so he followed as I gingerly dodged the rocks. Slowly remembering that speed can be your friend, I increased my speed to the point that centrifugal force made the flat tire more rigid. Ian was soon working to stay with me and we quickly ate up the miles between me and pavement. Reaching the pavement I was disappointed to find that Steve and Bill were nowhere in sight. Turning to check on Ian, I found Steve and Bill shadowing me as well. I thought for a minute that the sky had deposited them behind me. Actually they had been sitting on at a vantage point that overlooked the valley pointed out to them by another Border Patrol Agent. We were becoming the stuff of legend, as they knew “someone” was down there, but didn’t know who. Don’t even think of asking me how they knew, as I haven’t a clue. Steve asked me if I wanted to change the tire and I said ... naw, let’s go on to town (25 miles to the north), I will change it in Dallas. Again, dinner, beer and a shower awaited. Did have my priorities straight or what? Dinner again found us at the Ranchman Steak House to celebrate the conclusion of a great weekend of riding. Our total mileage for the day, according to my GPS, was 262 miles, bringing our total for the two days of riding to 470 miles. [/QUOTE]
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Ride Report: Van Horn and the Lost Trail
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