MACH 14: Day 11 - The Worst BBQ in Texas

Day 11:  The Worst BBQ in Texas

Thursday, May 8, 2014

Copyright(c) 2014, Jim Beachy

Early in the morning, Jerry and Ava get the two kids off to school; Kitty goes with them and on the way back they all go for a walk of several miles while I write yesterday’s blog.  It’s a dark and cloudy morning, 77 F, noticeably more humid than yesterday, but not raining.

Jerry has decreed that we should eat breakfast tacos at Rudy’s.  Walking in, the first thing we see is a neon sign declaring “The Worst Bar-B-Q in Texas.”  The breakfast tacos we order contain fluffy scrambled eggs and a choice of cheese, potatoes, bacon, and a long list of other items.  They are amazing.  And purportedly, contrary to the neon declaration, the barbecue is equally as good.

We’re enjoying the morning with our friends, so it’s 10:45 AM when we finally roll eastward.  I’ve planned a 2-lane Texas route that will avoid cities and eventually put us on I-30 at Texarkana on the border of Texas and Arkansas.  I’d like to make about 450 miles today, but with the late start that is doubtful.

A last-minute check of the bike’s weather radar confirms what I already know:  We’ll be riding in concert with a large weather front moving northeast, and while we may start out dry, we will certainly catch up with the rain later today.  So we take time for the Dance of the Rainsuit and for once I remember to take the keys from my pocket before zipping up.

After a quick set of good-byes and topping off the fuel tank, we are off.  Our route roughly follows US 79 as it traverses northeast across Texas.  For the first 160 miles we luck out and dodge between rain cells with only a few splatters on the windshield.  We love riding on Texas 2-lanes, through vast cultivated spreads and past ranches where longhorns or Brahma cattle gaze impassively from the safety of their green fields as we pass.  There remain patches of Indian blanket flowers in patches along the roadside, but mostly the wildflower season has come and gone before us.  “I wish we could ride roads like this all the way home,” says Kitty.  I wistfully agree.

On the XM radar, I keep monitoring the trailing edge of the weather front, which is actually ahead of us, so we’re steadily catching up with the weather as the day progresses.  It appears we will hit rain shortly after crossing I-45, or near the town of Buffalo.

My prediction is spot perfect, and the serious rain starts about 20 miles after we cross I-45.  Rain is moderate to heavy, and I’m mindful that there hasn’t been much rain, and Texas roads when wet are slippery at best.  In addition, on some roads there are slight depressions in the tracks where the trucks run, so in heavy rain there’s standing water.  I rarely ride in the center of a lane, but this is one of those times.  Rain continues steadily, sometimes heavy, sometimes with visibility well under a quarter of a mile, and I find myself riding at 50 mph for many miles at a time, peering through the mist and water droplets that collect on my helmet shield.  My after-market V-Stream windshield is doing a good job of shedding water, but with this much rain it never clears completely.

By the time we make Palestine and Jacksonville I’m feeling the strain of trying to look through the rain and watch for standing water on the road.  In the last 20 miles we’ve seen three serious accidents, all appearing to involve just one vehicle, all with the vehicles spun off the road into a field or a deep ditch.  “Too fast, too much water, too much opportunity for hydroplaning!” I tell Kitty.  Motorcycle tires, with a much different design from car tires, typically do not hydroplane.  A car tire delivers most pressure to the road surface along the sides of the tread surface, leaving opportunity for water to invade the tread in the center of the tire track, thus lifting the tread from the road.  Motorcycle tires deliver most of the road pressure in the center of the tire, a much more stable configuration.

“Two tires against four!” says Kitty.

I could not agree more!  I’m fanatical about my tires and don’t apologize for it.  A friend was once trying to decide on whether to buy a tire before a trip or after he returns.  I computed the value of useful remaining tread life and it was around $10.00.  “Skip lunch.  Buy the tire!” I told my friend.  And I’ve often said that I’m riding in conditions like these with Kitty aboard, the last thought I ever want to cross my mind is “I kinda wish I would have changed that tire!”

So we proceed with caution and without incident.  Still, by the time we near Hendersonville I tell Kitty “I need to take a break.  I’m seeing ghosts in the roadway.”

After a 30-minute break the rain has almost stopped, but I know we’ll run into the same weather some miles up the road.  But I’d like to make Arkansas tonight if we can, so we press on.  Once again the rain intensifies, and by the time we find Hwy 43 north and reach Marshall, it’s after 5:00 PM and I’m ready to call it a day.  We’ve made only 307 miles, leaving us a little more than 1,200 miles to cover in the remaining three days.  I had planned more 2-lane roads though Tennessee heading eastward, and I now think that ride will probably also need to wait for another trip.  With this weather pattern set to continue for perhaps the remainder of the trip, I can envision a lot of Interstate travel in our immediate future.  Much as we love the 2-lane life, in bad weather I’ll take the Interstate every time if I can.

We find a motel and the desk clerk tells us we can park the bike under the canopy.  It is covered in wet sandy grit from the Texas roads, so I refrain from covering it or even cleaning it.

Tonight, we order pizza and eat it in the motel’s dining room.