December 15, 2004; Texas Hill Country

Paul set out for Austin today, and I set out for the heart of Texas Hill country; Bandera, Leakey, Medina. A cold front had come through the area so I had on all the gear. I would even go so far as to say that it was funky cold in Medina. But the sun was shining and the roads were clear. In fact they were deserted. It felt as though the Hill Country was my own personal playground. Nobody slowing me down or speeding me up. Nobody buzzing past as I stopped to take pictures on the side of the road. All the streams and rivers crystal clear. I owned the day; it was made just for me. I felt iconic.

I pulled up to the Motorcycle Museum late morning. Closed on Wednesdays. Damn. But, as it turns out the owner, Allan was working on the lot and was gracious enough to make an exception and let me in. My own private showing.

The museum was incredible everything from Harley to Norton, Indian to Ducati, and a great atmosphere to boot. I must have snapped a hundred pictures, and every so often Allan would come in to give me a bit of history of the bike I was admiring. Allan restores all the bikes on display, and even rides or races many of them. By talking to him you can tell it is a labor of love.

I finished looking at the bikes a bit after noon and when Allan came back in; we got to talking. Allan is from Australia and had imported his friend's father's recipe the national food of Australia- meat pies. In the back of the museum there is a snack counter where Allan and his wife Debbie make authentic Australian Meat Pies. I had never had one so he shared another of his interests with me.

Let me tell you about meat pies. They are delicious. Each pie is about the size of a stack of five floppy disks. The original meat pie is savory ground beef and gravy enveloped in a crispy flakey pastry crust. (maybe I should consider a career in jingle writing) Can't for the life of me think why I have never had one in the US. We have bastardized every other national cuisine to tasty ends. Then here comes the meat pie in its perfection and we don't even try.

After the meat pie lunch it was time to see more of the hill country. More specifically Three Sisters, which is the name given to highways 335, 336, and 337, running through the most scenic parts of hill country. The path up the side of one of the larger hill was nearly surreal. The only picture that would begin to do it justice would be from the air. You get this feeble attempt.

I began and ended my steady assent in the sweet spot of third gear, which on this climb was about 30 mph. The exhaust note constant; highlighted with light and dark tones with the approaching or receding limestone wall. The curves were nothing less than rhythmic. It seemed as though I was stationary; the curves dictating my path. Each apex breached with a fluid lean, ending upright and commencing again in the opposite direction with the bat of an eye. The Blue Danube could have kept time in the background, as it often did when I hit my long stride rhythm in the water.

Further down the road was a wild game preserve with wildebeest, gazelle, camels, and kangaroo. Yet another unexpected treat. I ended the day in a motel tucked away in the trees that looked like the set of a horror flick.