At last, a warm clear Sunday. For weeks now it seems Houston weather has been cold, rainy and downright miserable so an extended ride has been out of the question for me. Now, if I had some of that expensive cold weather riding gear battling the elements would be no problem, but for now I have to choose my days to suit what I have. Other than a few trips to church each Sunday morning and a run down to ExImports for a 6k mile service, the Triumph has hardly been used. I had the handlebar risers fitted at the same time so I was keen to feel the difference, and what a difference that extra 30mm makes. With very little downward pressure on the bars I felt no wrist/forearm fatigue or any numbness in my fingers. That minor modification was money well spent.
I decided to go west on I10 to Columbus then NW on 71 to Bastrop, east on 21 then 290 back to Houston. I10 has become my road, it's the great artery from Florida across the Gulf region, through Texas and on to California. Seems that wherever I go I10 plays a part somewhere in the journey. It's a big and brash highway, as if she is on a mission, her travellers hurrying, all intent on reaching their destinations as quickly as possible. I've driven and ridden I10 day and night, it is never a quiet road, cars and trucks in an endless procession east and west. One day I'll make the journey west to California on this great highway, 1548 miles from Houston according to Google Maps, now that would be quite a ride.
Today it was only I10 as far as Columbus, a quiet country town on the Colorado river. There is a neat McDonald's on the southern outskirts of the town, exit 696 puts you right into the carpark. How do I know this? In April/May of 2008 I was working at the Sam K. Seymour Jr. Generating Station near La Grange. I would ride to the site early each Monday morning, stopping at Macca's for a coffee, perhaps some hotcakes, maybe a hash-brown on the way. With a little something to go on with the last 20 miles went quickly. Sometimes on my return journey late on a Friday afternoon I would also stop for a snack before tackling the 70 miles to Houston. Over the course of 5 weeks travelling to and from La Grange Macca's and me became good friends. Today, however, I decided not to stop, there had to be something more interesting further up the road.
Travelling north-west on Hwy 71 is an easy ride over gentle rolling ranch country with plenty of well fed cattle in the fields. There is no doubt Texas has some quirky people doing some quirky things, a little way up the road from La Grange is a Dodge dealership that is all about reducing those expensive overheads. In this case the overheads are free, a forest of pine trees, there must be at least fifty new trucks sitting out there in the weather. No need for all that concrete on the ground, why spend all that money, grass will do just fine.
Further along 71 I came across a Cowboy Church, a local fellowship that is part of a large network of churches spread across the US, Canada, Australia and else where, loosely affiliated to the Baptist denomination. Going by the number of people gathering outside, this particular church is quite successful. There is something peaceful and comforting to see a group of church goers standing around after a service enjoying the beautiful day, talking, laughing, united in their faith. No one needs to alone, just a find a place where God's people get together.
I arrived in the thriving community of Bastrop right at midday, time for a meal. Today I was going to adventurous, no Macca's for me. I saw that big orange "W", Whataburger it is. Ok, I admit it's not that adventurous, but they do have a pretty good burger, good enough for this ol' vaquero anyway. The town was originally settled, albeit temporarily, by Spanish soldiers in 1804 who named it Puesta Del Colorado. In 1832 it was re-named Bastrop only to be changed to Mina in 1834 and finally back to Bastrop five years later. Bastrop was almost the capital of Texas, however land prices in nearby Waterloo - later to be re-named Austin - were cheaper so the state government settled there. There's alot interesting history in these small rural towns if you dig around a bit, some significant, some not quite so, but all have a place in the fabric of Texas. And like so many other country towns, Bastrop deserves a visit and a nose about, you never know what gems you'll unearth.
Hwy 21North took me to 290East and my route for Houston, through some pleasant rolling farming districts, some of the farms obviously the "hobby" variety, the owners wanting a rural experience while commuting and working else where, Austin most likely. I'm not sure a hobby farm would be much of an experience unless money wasn't an issue as I seriously doubt there's any financial return from the place. However, plenty of people are into it so there are obviously some benefits, either real or perceived.
My final stop was Giddings, even if it was unplanned. As I rode into town my attention was grabbed by this big pink pig sitting on side of the road. I couldn't keep going, this I had to take a close look at. In the midst of a wide range of weird and wonderful sculptures in the front yard of the "Cabbage Patch Cottage" a large pink porker sits in all his, or her, glory, just waiting for someone to come along and take it home. There must be a market for pink pigs because upon exploring the inventory I found another one, although this was smaller and had wings. Maybe pigs do fly, in Texas anyway.
Next door to the Cabbage Patch Cottage was the Bethel Union Baptist Church, later to be re-named St. Paul Baptist Church, a fellowship started in 1871 by a group of ex-slaves with the Rev. I. Tolliver it's first minister. One of it's prominent members, ex-slave Matthew Gaines became a minister, a state senator and a spokesman for civil rights.
Giddings started it's life as a railway town in 1871 when the Houston and Texas Central Railway came to the area. In the 1980's it was an oil town sitting atop the the oil laden Austin chalk. The oil boom has since passed, now Giddings is eased back into a quiet rural community servicing the local district. The town's motto "Experience Hometown Hospitality" was colourfully illustrated with a large mural on a downtown building wall.
Mid afternoon, time to head for home, east on the notorious 290 into Houston. I say notorious because as the freeway gets closer into the city the traffic gets thicker, the lanes seem narrower, especially the left hand lane which has no shoulder, just a concrete barrier. On a bike with no escape route in an emergency, it is a hairy piece of road.
Total Distance: 266 miles (426kms)
Ave. 44.5 mpg
Top Speed: 96.6mph (154kph) - I can't help it, the Triumph just goes fast.
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