Bringing Home the XT600

As I mentioned in my "Getting Back to Health" post, I had damaged the FJR. This led to a significant amount of cash, part of which was to be applied to labor for repairing my bike. Since I happened to know my way around bodywork, I took some of that cash and bought a 1995 Yamaha XT 600 off ebay. In January 2004, I packed my riding suit into a tailbag and carried that and my helmet onto a bus headed for Alamagordo, New Mexico. I would ride this bike home to San Antonio having never seen it in person, only trusting that it would start for me and deliver me unscathed nearly 700 miles and two days later.

I took this route.

Oh yeah, it was January and the temperatures were hovering about freezing most of the time. It warmed significantly as I approached San Antonio on the second day, though it was still cold.I hadn't figured out the technique to getting the steering column to lock, so I pulled the bike inside the hotel room that night to keep it secure. No harm done, right? I might add that it probably didn't hurt in getting the bike started the next morning. I learned later that it was much more difficult to start with the supertrap muffler installed - and cold.

I left Alamagordo around 5AM. The weather channel showed 28° in town. I stopped every twenty minutes or so to move around and warm myself up again. I pulled into El Paso shortly after sunrise and called home, letting my wife know I was on the move and doing well. With the coldest part of the day out of the way, I knew the rest could only get better.As the sun rose, I discovered that I was riding alongside an area that potentially had mines or other explosives laying about. I suppose one of the local bases used it for target practice.

Heading east on US 62, sights like these were not uncommon.

One of the 'colorful' gas stations on US highway 62. I was very concerned about having enough gasonline because the bike was averaging around 40 miles per gallon. On closer inspection, I could see why: the chain was probably the original and had a lot of rust on it. There were no gas stations on the stretch of Texas highway 54 until I reached Van Horn.


I saw a total of two tucks the entire time I was on 54.

I pulled into Van Horn and considered having lunch there. However, the hustle and bustle of a busy truck stop dissuaded me. I knew there were restaurants about, but I had no inclination to spend a lot of time looking for them. Seeking the solace of an empty road free of other people, I headed back out again, putting behind the thoughts of taking I-10 and droning down US-90.

I stopped in Marfa for lunch. My timing was obviously not so great, as I didn't get to see the famous "Marfa Lights." As I passed through Marfa and Marathon, I thought to myself how easy it would be to drop in on Big Bend for a day. I could see mountains over the horizon to the south of me. However, I knew I was ill-prepared for an adventure like that.

I pulled into Sanderson as it began to grow dark. The locals informed me that the next few towns would likely have their gas stations closed by the time I reached them (and I didn't have the range - or trust - that I would make it to Del Rio on a single tank of gas. I acquired an inexpensive hotel room and sought dinner at the local fast food joint. I thought it was only slightly unusual that a restaurant would offer a full variety of Mexican and American dishes, but as I ate and watched people arrive for dinner and take out, it made perfect sense; many of the restaurant's clientèle were Hispanic picking up inexpensive dinners for their families. With the bustle of the dinner "rush hour," I figured that I had landed in a good place to eat.

I walked back to my hotel room. I looked up and saw a pitch black sky. Even with the few street lamps on around me, the sky was stunning and clear. I could see the seven sisters clearly, even though my near-sightedness makes it extremely difficult to make out the question mark shape in the city. The lack of light pollution just amazed me. I have not seen since a sky so black, nor the stars so vibrant. Despite the cold, I envied all those that lived here. I also understood why the McDonald Observatory was not far away.

The next morning I woke to a cold, but overcast Sanderson. The locals informed me that I should drop in on the local 'Big Bend Information Center.' So, the XT and I putted over there and spent a bit of time chatting about Big Bend and discussing some of the literature on hand. This experience further solidified what I knew already: I needed to go to Big Bend.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. I could see mountains over the horizon to the south. I got passed by a truck hauling cattle with the bumper sticker on the back: "Cows deserve to be eaten!" I was stunned and laughed so hard I almost wrecked the bike!

I think it was Langtry (though it might have been Comstock) where I stumbled in for breakfast. I asked if they had decaf coffee. A cowgirl (I'm not making this up) turned around and said, "This is Langtry - there ain't no decaf out here!" Turns out she was from San Antonio branding sheep on property she had out in this direction. Even though I never really put San Antonio into the whole "ranch" frame of mind - this is the 21st century after all - ranchiing is still alive and well, (hence the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo).

I fought my way through Del Rio (and got off 90 accidentally for a short bit before finding my way back). I also fought traffic in Uvalde. I was making great time. If the days hadn't been so short, I could have made my way home late last night. However, it was worth the extra time and expense for the memories of the ride.


Above: One of Texas' tallest bridges between Langtry and Comstock on US 90.

Pulling into San Antonio was like relaxing next to a babbling brook and suddenly stepping into a hip hop dance club. The traffic was heavy. I had to dodge construction and the XT was not very fond of riding at 70 mph. But that just made me appreciate the ride I made so much more!