Vroom With a View
A STATE PARK MOTORCYCLE TOUR IMMERSES RIDERS IN TEXAS' VARIED LANDSCAPES.
"So I’ve got this idea….”
That’s how most conversations go when Jerod Foster and I get together. He takes the pictures, and I write the words. We are collaborators and friends. The first story I pitched him was a bikepacking trip (bicycle touring) through north-central Texas.
“I’m in,” he said without hesitation.
He followed up by inviting me to join his Texas Tech Adventure Media class (he’s a professor) on their five-day bikepacking trip through Big Bend Ranch State Park.
“I’m in,” I said.
And that’s been our pattern for the last three years. Gravel bike trip from Portales, New Mexico, to Lubbock? Let’s do it! Stand-up paddleboard tour of Possum Kingdom Lake? Let me find my life jacket. How about a 375-mile bikepacking trip around the Panhandle? I’m already packing my bike.
So when I said, “I’ve got this idea to ride a motorcycle across Texas and camp at state parks,” Jerod never hesitated.
“I’m in!”
He didn’t own a motorcycle or have a motorcycle license. He hadn’t ridden since he was a kid. Within the year, he had a motorcycle, his license and most of our route planned out.
Off we go!
SEA RIM BEGINNINGS
Sea Rim state park is where we start. It’s situated in the southeastern corner of the state along the Gulf Coast. From there, we will ride across the back roads of Texas covering more than 1,400 miles and camping at six state properties: Sea Rim, Huntsville State Park, Hill Country State Natural Area, Devils River State Natural Area, Black Gap Wildlife Management Area and Big Bend Ranch State Park.
Our ultimate destination is Guadalupe Mountains National Park, where we will hike to the top of 8,751-foot Guadalupe Peak, the highest point in Texas. We have dubbed the trip “The Lone Star Way Up,” a motorcycle journey from sea to summit.
I arrive at Sea Rim first. Our campsite is on the edge of a marsh that separates the park from the beach. When I check in, the park staff tells me there are alligators in the marsh but there has never been a problem. For good measure, I situate my tent a good 10 feet from the water. I walk across the boardwalk to the beach and catch the sunset. The water reflects and absorbs the sunlight, creating dark valleys and silver peaks across its flowing surface. I walk where the surf has retreated and let my bare feet sink into the wet sand. A thin layer of water catches the horizon’s intense copper glow and paints the wet sand with an ethereal silver and gold light.
Jerod hits camp well after dark. He takes his helmet off and surveys the scene.
“What’s that sound?” he asks.
“That’s the ocean,” I reply with a smile.
Jerod eyes a perfect spot to pitch his tent. It’s a level green patch of grass right next to the marsh. I tell him about the alligators. He thinks it over, shrugs and sets up his tent in the spot anyway.
SEA RIM STATE PARK TO HUNTSVILLE STATE PARK
We ride onto the beach so I can dip my motorcycle boots in the water. I dismount and walk to the water, and the tide kisses the soles of my boots. We have two options for our departure: head east along the paved Texas Highway 87 or west along the sandy beach for 20 miles. I desperately want to go west.
Our bikes, both Honda Africa Twins, are more than capable of traversing sand. They are in the adventure bike category and feature a twin-cylinder engine that can easily maintain highway speeds, tall suspension for rugged 4x4 roads and tires designed to grip on asphalt and dirt.
They are go-anywhere machines.
It’s a long way to Huntsville State Park, and there are too many unknowns with beach riding. We decide to take the road more traveled and ride the asphalt.
We are besieged by 26 mph sustained winds and gusts up to 40 mph as we ride across the coastal plains. The wind blows us around like ragdolls on our 500-pound motorcycles. Wind battered, we stop for a lunch break at the Pho Xpress in Winnie for some outstanding Vietnamese food.
We get respite from the wind when we enter the confines of the Sam Houston National Forest and ride along the maze of Forest Service roads through a thick canopy of loblolly and longleaf pines. The night sky and heavy timber obscure Huntsville State Park’s features. We find our campsite, pitch tents and hit the sleeping bags.
HUNTSVILLE STATE PARK TO HILL COUNTRY STATE NATURAL AREA
The sun rises and reveals Lake Raven right outside our zippered front doors. The water gently laps at the emerald-green shore. It is absolute serenity.
The trails and dense forest beg us to linger and explore, but today is a big day. We have 317 miles to cover.
Smithville is the last bit of rural country we experience before entering the urban tentacles of the Interstate 35 corridor. We thread the needle in San Marcos, skirt the north side of Canyon Lake and grab Whataburger for dinner on the edge of Boerne.
When I reserved our campsite at Hill Country State Natural Area, the only one left was an equestrian site. Each of our machines produces around 94 horsepower. We’re not bringing a couple of horses — we’re riding 188. I think an equestrian site is appropriate.
Once again, we hit camp in the dead of night.
HILL COUNTRY STATE NATURAL AREA TO DEVILS RIVER STATE NATURAL AREA
It is a crisp October morning, and folks are out and about with backpacks, bikes and real horses exploring the rugged and raw landscape. It’s the most hustle and bustle we’ve experienced at a state property on this trip. The topography is beautiful with rolling mesas, plateaus and mature live oaks.
Once again, we struggle with the desire to explore versus our wanderlust for the road.
We ride through Utopia and stop for lunch at the Lost Maples Cafe, where we dine on the front porch next to a box filled with free kittens.
We enter the Trans-Pecos region of West Texas, the most anticipated part of our trip. The 18-mile Dolan Creek Road into Devils River State Natural Area is unpaved and glorious. The Africa Twins are flawless on the pavement, but they hunger for dirt and gravel. It is their element. It is our element.
When we arrive, park host Anna Murphy greets us.
“How did you like our yellow brick road?” she asks.
Fantastic!
“You’re just gonna love it out here — it’s magic,” Anna gushes.
DEVILS RIVER STATE NATURAL AREA TO BLACK GAP WILDLIFE MANAGEMENT AREA
Our stay is a quick in-and-out. We cross the Amistad Reservoir, stop for burgers in Comstock at J&P Bar and Grill and traverse the highest bridge in Texas. The Pecos River High Bridge is 273 feet above the water and spans 1,390 feet across the Pecos River canyon.
At Marathon, we turn south and head into the sunset. I watch Jerod ride into a light blue sky with wispy light and dark cirrus clouds floating above a horizon that’s on fire.
We veer left at RM 2627. The sun has set, and we ride into a complete abyss. We pass the entrance to Black Gap headquarters and take a hardscrabble gravel road to the south. Nothing exists outside the perimeters of our headlights. As the road ascends, it turns to double track with a line of desert vegetation down the middle.
We stumble onto our campsite when our lights catch a covered picnic table. Home!
BLACK GAP WILDLIFE MANAGEMENT AREA TO BIG BEND RANCH STATE PARK
The sun rises over the northern reaches of the Sierra Madre Oriental mountain range in Mexico and casts our little basin in an amber light that glistens off the clumps of paddle cactus. On a nearby rock-strewn hill, the silhouettes of ocotillo tentacles crane toward the heavens, twisted, bent and crooked.
A lone gravel road disappears into the desert backcountry. I yearn to travel it, but other roads beckon.
Old Ore Road, River Road East, Glenn Springs Road, Black Gap Road, River Road West — these are backcountry roads of Big Bend National Park. They are my siren song.
As we approach the Persimmon Gap entrance station for Big Bend National Park, I feel something amiss with my front wheel. I pull through, pay my entrance fee and stop at the visitor center parking lot. Jerod pulls up.
“What’s wrong?” he inquires.
“Tire’s flat,” I exclaim.
Jerod’s default cadence is even-keeled: “We’ve got tubes,” he says calmly.
Jerod doesn’t really see obstacles, only solutions.
Changing a tire on a 500-pound motorcycle is a process. We take the front wheel off, pull the tire, replace the tube and … I accidentally pinch the tube when I put the tire bead back on the rim. We have to do it all over again, and that depletes all our spare tubes and time.
The backcountry roads of Big Bend will have to wait. We ride through the park, hit Old Maverick Road, stop in Terlingua for dinner and make camp at the Upper Madera Campground on FM 170 in Big Bend Ranch State Park.
BIG BEND RANCH STATE PARK TO GUADALUPE MOUNTAINS NATIONAL PARK
This is the final leg before our big summit push tomorrow. We ride to the border town of Presidio and stop for lunch at El Patio Cafe, my favorite place for green beef enchiladas.
Then it’s on to Ruidosa, where we pick up one of the best gravel routes in the state, Pinto Canyon Road. It skirts the north side of the Chinati Mountains State Natural Area and meets the pavement southwest of Marfa.
A cold front blows in as we gain elevation and head north. The temperature drops to the low 40s, and night catches us once again. We ride into camp at Guadalupe Mountains, and it’s dark, cold and a little moist. It feels as if we’ve been on the road for months.
PINE SPRINGS CAMPGROUND TO GUADALUPE PEAK SUMMIT
It’s 39 degrees when we unzip our tents. The whole campground is encased in a thick frozen mist. The tops of the surrounding foothills disappear into a solid white cloud. Both motorcycles are coated in a thin layer of ice. We start the hike and disappear into the white mist. As we get into the scrubby ponderosa pines, the fog starts to fade.
Two miles in, at around 7,000 feet, we pop out of the fog into an absolute bluebird day. We just hiked through a cloud inversion, quite a surreal experience.
Jerod and I make the final push to the summit and touch the stainless-steel pyramid atop Guadalupe Peak.
We find a couple of flat limestone boulders to sit on, eat lunch and reflect. The sunset along the pristine beach at Sea Rim, the smell of pine trees in Huntsville, the endless green of the Hill Country, the quiet of Devils River and the rugged solitude of Black Gap — it’s hard to believe it’s all in the same state.
I’ve heard fellow outdoorsy folks lament that Texas doesn’t have enough public land. I beg to differ. There are so many state parks and so little time. I want to see them all!
“We need to do another state park motorcycle tour,” I tell Jerod.
“Ones we haven’t seen,” he adds.
The wheels start spinning.
“So, I’ve got this idea…”
Check out our PBS TV show featuring this state park motorcycle tour the week of December 18–24, or watch later on our YouTube channel.
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