Putting It All on the Road

On August 16^th, I did my first camping ride. It was only for one night as the goal was to discover what I didn't know about motorcycle camping. Here is the rundown.

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Thursday afternoon, I got home from work, loaded the bike and was on the road by 3:15.

I loaded up my saved route map from google maps and mounted my phone to the handlebars so I could see it. When I turned on the GPS antennae I could easily see my position as a blue arrow cruising along my intended path.

Here is the route I took:

I headed up Meuschke, left on 2920 and then North, on country roads to Magnolia. Riding into Magnolia from a totally different direction was a strange experience.  Almost felt like seeing it for the first time. What a great ride. Aside from being hot as hell, the scenery was beautiful and traffic was very light.

After that it was the winding backroads of the Sam Houston Forest. I should have taken more pictures. It was simply beautiful with tall pine trees and shady glens. The temp must have been 10 degrees cooler among the foliage. The roads were surprisingly good.

I arrived at Lake Stubblefield Recreation Area around 6:00. I stopped to read the rules at the entrance and then did a few quick passes of the park. The only other people there were the park hosts. It is easy to understand why. It was ****ing hot. No breeze.

I always have some anxiety when first arriving to a park. I mean nervous-to-the-point-of- shaking anxiety. I don’t know why. It really affected how I set things up. I screwed around with unpacking until I had crap strewn all over the ground. What I should have done is grabbed clothes, gone to the bathroom and put on shorts. Instead I pitched my tent in jeans and a t-shirt.  I was hot enough to burst into flames. It sucked.

Once the tent was up I was able to change into some shorts. Much better.

Okay, the tent is up, I had some water, time to fish. I grabbed my collapsible rod and tackle and walked to the very small spot in between the trees where I could fish. Oh shit. I forgot the hot dogs that I usually use for catfish bait. Dammit! I tried some crappie bait with absolutely no luck at all. I had the right tackle just the wrong bait. It may have been more a condition of heat though. The Camphost mentioned that he had no luck either and that, he said, was a rare thing.

Ideally I should have scouted the park better to find clearer shoreline. It’s always better to be able to work a shoreline instead of being relegated to one spot on the lake.

After no luck fishing, it was dinnertime. I brought a couple options. Military MREs and dehydrated pouch meals. I always use MREs for camping because the food is fairly good and the calories are high. The ones I brought were pretty old though. I thought I might test out my new stove and cook up some of the powdered chow. Chicken Enchilada. Boil the water, put it in the bag and let it sit.

First bite. How can Mexican food be so completely bland? Well I had a cure for that. Time to crack open the MRE. Each one has a spice pack. Mine had ground red pepper and salt. Perfect. But too much of good thing is a bad thing…and in this case would burn as much coming out as it did going in. I think I failed to stir up the existing spices in the food pack because things got fiery quick. Just what I needed, to sweat more.

Still, the stove worked great, dinner was hot (in every sense) and daylight was fading. Before I left, I had rented and downloaded a movie to my phone. I am so glad I did this. All of that quiet solitude was beginning to take its toll.

I sat at the picnic table and fired up Batman Begins on my phone. The picture was great but the sound was way too faint. Need to remember to take headphones next time. After awhile I felt strange about sitting in the dark, by myself, watching a movie at a picnic table.

So I set up my blue max collapsible camp chair in the tent, closed the screen to keep the bugs out and settled down to finish the movie. I really thought that I would go to bed early. To my surprise I watched the whole movie and was not tired in the least. Once the movie ended, I crawled onto my airmattress (worked great by the way).

Sleep was impossible. Part of the problem was open and airy nature of my tent.  I could see everything around me. It was very much like sleeping outside.

But the real reason I couldn’t sleep was the damn frogs. The chorus of frog tenors was bad enough but every once in awhile a frog in the tree above me would say (in frog of course) “YOU AWAKE BRO? YOU AWAKE? YOU AWAKE BRO? YOU AWAKE? YOU AWAKE BRO? YOU AWAKE? YOU AWAKE BRO? YOU AWAKE? YOU AWAKE BRO? YOU AWAKE?”

Me (Yelling to the darkness):”Shut the **** up Kermit or I swear to the god of noisy ****in’ frogs that I will climb that tree and put a boot one mile up your waterproof ass!”

[Awkward silence]

The Frog: “YOU AWAKE BRO?”

With uncommonly good forethought, I brought along some ear plugs. In they went. They were moderately comfortable and really cut the noise. I managed to sleep for a little while. Then I woke up, remembered that I was alone in the pitch black woods and promptly had a panic attack. This only happened about three times.

It was also too hot at one point to breathe. I had to drink some of the ice water that I had saved for the morning just to cool down a couple of degrees. My skin felt like someone had coated me in cooking oil and let it dry.

Long about 1:00, I grabbed my shoes and headed out to use “the restroom”. After that, I slept until about 7:30 in the morning. Not the best kind of sleep though. It reminded me of the kind of sleep you get on an airplane: adequate but not really all that pleasurable. Still, I think this will get better the more I tent camp. After all, it’s been years.

First priority upon waking, bathroom trip. Unfortunately it was daylight so the au natural approach was out. I put on my hiking boots and a pair of shorts and climbed on the bike. Riding in nothing but a pair of shorts is very liberating. Even at 10MPH the air was wonderful. I instantly felt better. Into the very hot bathroom to pee and wash up and then back to camp.

Then, coffee. Out with the stove again. This stove is called….wait for it….’the pocket rocket’.  It sounds like a jet engine and boils water in less than one minute. I had some folger’s instant with all the trimmings. Need to remember the Starbucks instant next time as it is so much better. Camp coffee is one of those beautiful small things that should be enjoyed as much as possible. Still, I kept thinking about what a pain in the ass it would be to pack up.

Camphost came back by to check on me. He asked “Were you too hot to sleep?” Which I translated to mean “Did last night teach your dumb ass not to camp in August?”. My answer to both meanings was “No, not really”.

We chatted about bikes, computers and the old days for a bit and he headed off “To get tacos in town”.

I whipped up some dehydrated juevos rancheros for breakfast. It was okay but the beans never fully hydrated. Made for some crunchy eggs. I think we can all agree that crunchy eggs=something very wrong. Choked it down though.

Then it was time to pack. I figured this would take about 30 min. I was pretty close. It took 2 full hours from breakfast to saddle. I should say though that I packed as if I would be camping again that night. Everything put away nice and neat.

The bike looked great. Seeing it packed with everything I needed to survive was a moving experience. 

I don’t care what kind of bike you have, a packed motorcycle screams to be ridden. Now!

So I did. Reverse directions on the GPS got me in the general direction of home. Nice ride home with no traffic and no surprises.

So I did it. Made the whole trip without the bags falling off, being murdered in the middle of the night, or dying of heat stroke, wasp allergy or bike crash. And I'm hooked now. It felt glorious. Total reliance on my motorcycle, planning skills and camping experience.

I must admit to some unexplained sadness at times throughout the trip. I couldn’t understand it. Was I sad because the trip was short? Was I sad because it was the end of my first try? Was I missing my wife and kids (yes, terribly). Was I just lonely. Did I want a friend along? Had to be all of these reasons I guess.

Still, on the way home I realized that while this trip was only supposed to be a first stab at road life, I had learned most of the skills and gathered most of the items I would need to go anywhere for a few days. Great, ready to go with only a year to wait until the big ride (South Padre Island, Tx to Key West, Fl). The months stretched out in front of me like a desert and I yearned to be embarking on a great journey. The 80 mile ride back home just didn’t seem to fit what I had done…or would do. I think this was the main source of the sadness and I feel it still.