Photo by Doug Varga
The teepee rest stop along FM 170 (The River Road) offers a break and a spectacular view.
Riding from Heaven to Hell
by Allison Ryan Scott
R
iding Heaven to Hell
on an iron horse is a
trek every motorcy-
clist should experience. This
300-plus-mile motorcycle rally,
sponsored by the Alpine
Chamber of Commerce, offers
wide-open spaces, moderate
twists and turns, river valley
and mountain ranges.
Motorcycle enthusiast and
instructor Mike Latta of Alpine
organized the first Heaven to
Hell Ride in 2005. He said the
name comes from the heavenly
elevation of the Davis
Mountains and the hotter than
hell river valley in Presidio. I
interpret the name this way:
The ride is heavenly in the
beginning, but feels like hell
340 miles later. The 2009 rally
12
was the first time I participated,
but the experience makes me
want to saddle up and do it all
over again this fall.
I love to ride my 650
Yamaha. It’s a perfect fit for
me – a 52-year-old woman and
novice rider. I’ve been riding
for about three years, but the
Heaven to Hell ride was the
longest one-day trip I had ever
taken. Last spring, I organized
an all-women’s motorcycle run.
One woman showed up, so we
had a group of two. That was
fine. We rode from Alpine to
Presidio the first day, spent the
night in Terlingua and then
rode to Big Bend National Park
and
returned
through
Marathon the following day.
So, when it came time to ride
the Heaven to Hell, I was
familiar with the route and
wanted the challenge of riding
it in one day.
The September morning
was cool when I left home to
meet the Marfa group at the
“big” Town and Country – the
meeting place for every group
ride I’ve ever taken. A small
group of people was there – all
experienced riders, including
one young woman and the rest
men. I was definitely the
grandmother of the group. As
we took off, the sun was just
beginning to rise. In early fall,
the morning air is crisp and
cool, and I was glad I had worn
my leather jacket, gloves and
chaps. Riding with a group of
friends creates a feeling of
Cenizo
Third Quarter 2010
camaraderie. I was looking for-
ward to stops along the way
when everyone would talk
about what they had experi-
enced.
The first stop was at the
Alpine Chamber of Com -
merce. We all registered, picked
up a bag of goodies, downed
some coffee and posed for a
group photo. And that was, as
it turned out, my last group
activity. Some stayed in Alpine
to eat breakfast, while two men
and I headed down south on
118. Just a couple of miles out,
I had to pull over to adjust my
helmet. That was the last I saw
my companions. I couldn’t de -
cide if this was a compliment
or insult. Either they thought I
was a good enough rider to
take care of myself, or I was so
old I wasn’t worth going back
for. I wasn’t worried. On a ride
like this, other riders would be
along to help if needed.
After crossing over Big Hill a
few miles south of Alpine, I
relaxed into the ride, watching
the road, leaning into the
curves and smelling the desert
waking up to the morning. The
solitude on a motorcycle ride is
not lonely. It is comfortable and
peaceful. For miles, there wasn’t
another bike or automobile –
only the highway stretching out
like a river.
I could feel the temperature
rising as I entered the flat after
Elephant Mountain and was
thankful that I was moving.
Dressing in full leather is great