protection, but it can feel like a
sauna when standing still. I was
almost at Study Butte and
needed to stop at the store for
gasoline and more water. Now,
as a novice rider I still get nerv-
ous when riding around experi-
enced riders. So as I
approached the store and saw
at least 25 motorcycles, my
train of thought was something
like – “dear God, don’t let me
drop my bike, it’s so hot I can’t
wait to strip off this leather,
please don’t let me drop my
bike . . .” I didn’t drop my bike,
but I did drop my helmet, and
the face shield popped off.
Thank goodness Jerry Agan
was there to help me put it back
together. Agan had been the
previous owner of my bike, so
it’s always good to visit with
him about “our” bike.
The next stop was lunch in
Terlingua, where I met up with
the two I started the ride with
in Alpine. Of course, they had
to tease me about driving too
slow, and I harassed them
about driving too fast. Lunch
was quick, and, while others
rested in the shade, I was anx-
ious to get back on the highway.
I love to ride and don’t take the
time to do it as much as I want
to. Today, I was going to spend
more time riding than talking.
One of the best parts of the
ride was just ahead – past
Lajitas where FM 170 snakes
along the Rio Grande. The
River Road is considered one
of the best motorcycle high-
ways in the state. The views are
beautiful, the traffic is minimal,
and we get to ride over Big Hill.
Now, I mentioned a Big Hill
south of Alpine on 118, but
that one is ordinary compared
to this mountain. After the tee-
pees rest area, I down-shifted
and rode up the mountain. I
laughed when I saw the high-
way sign with the simple word
“HILL” This was no hill, and I
was having a blast riding up
and over. Many bikers had
stopped at the top to take in the
view. Not me. I pushed on to
Redford and Presidio.
For the next 40 miles the
road is a series of curves, dips,
hills and dry water crossings. In
places, the highway is narrow
with no shoulder and the river
cane and willows crowd in, cre-
ating a quiet solitude with
glimpses of the river. Just
before Redford I spotted some-
one selling water and food. I
didn’t stop. I wanted to keep
going to feel the wind and smell
the desert. Presidio was just 15
miles up the road.
I slowed down as I
approached Presidio and
looked for a place to fill the bike
with gasoline and me with
water. With most communities
in the south counties more than
60 miles apart, it’s always a
good idea to fuel up at every
opportunity. I pulled into the
station and began stripping off
everything I could and still stay
decent. It was hot. Hot as hell.
I walked into the cool store to
grab some water and use the
restroom. Stripping off leather
chaps to go to the restroom is a
challenging feat, but I man-
aged. Just as I was putting the
gear back on, a group from
Marfa arrived, but it was too
hot to visit. I wanted to head
north to the high country.
The ride between Presidio
and Shafter is fun. The high-
way is wide with some passing
lanes and the traffic is sparse on
a Saturday afternoon. I passed
Shafter, the old silver mines and
Cibolo Creek. Just a few more
miles north is the Bill Shirley
Ranch entrance and one of the
most beautiful vistas in Presidio
County. As I topped the hill, I
could see Cathedral Mountain
to the west and Marfa was just
a speck in this wide-open space.
Marfa came into view. I
The route for the H2H ride is different every year to
keep it interesting for returning participants. This year Big
Bend National Park will be part of the ride. In 2010 the
Heaven to Hell is September 26th. Registration informa-
tion at: www.heaventohellride.com
honked my horn as I passed my
house and then headed to the
gas station. The next stop
before leaving town was the
Marfa volunteer fire station
where the Red Knights Motor -
cycle Club was providing water
and snacks. I rode with the
Knights for a couple of years,
so it was like visiting family
when I stopped. After some
water and conversation about
local politics, I got back on my
bike and headed to Hwy. 166
just south of Fort Davis.
This highway forms a loop
around Blue Mountain and
Mt. Livermore and intersects
with Hwy. 118 and McDonald
Observatory. I’d ridden the
lower part of the loop that
leads to Kent, but this was the
first time to ride Hwy. 118
which crosses over Mt. Locke
and in front of the Observatory
entrance. What a great ride.
There are lots of curves and
beautiful mountain scenery. I
took my time. I wasn’t in a
hurry.
Fort Davis was the next stop.
The riders were invited to stop
for ice cream and water. When
I pulled in on the gravel park-
ing lot, I had those familiar
fears of making a mistake in
front of other riders. I pushed
my fears away. I had ridden
almost 300 miles and, so far, no
disasters.
From this point, the riders
would head to Alpine for din-
ner, music and door prizes. Not
me. I headed to Marfa. I had a
wedding to perform. (That’s
another story.) As I headed
south on Hwy. 17, my backside
was sore, and I shifted around
to get comfortable.
Looking out at the land-
scape I thought that perhaps I
was looking at country that
today is not unlike what settlers
on horseback must have seen as
they traveled this way.
The constant chatter in my
head had stopped, and I was
alone with my thoughts. I had,
indeed, ridden heaven to hell
and back to heaven.
Riata
Inn
Mountain views
just outside Marfa
Hwy 90 East • Marfa
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Alpine
432.837.5060
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608 1/2 E Holland Ave. • Alpine
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Cenizo
Third Quarter 2010
13