In late 1944 Field Marshall Bernard Montgomery developed a plan to overrun key bridges in the Netherlands, outflanking the German Siegfried Line and shortening the war by months or even years. The plan was called Operation Market Garden and was brilliant, daring and almost successful. Before the operation “Monty” was told by Lieutenant-General Frederick Browning that the plan was
too daring. Specifically he said, "I think we may be going a bridge too far." In retrospect this observation was entirely correct and a foreshadowing of what was to happen in September of 1944. For his part, Montgomery called Market Garden "90% successful" while Browning reaffirmed "I always felt we tried to take it a bridge too far."
This has almost nothing to do with this week’s ride...but there was a bridge involved.
I am not sure how I heard about the Bugs N Blues event outside of beautiful Nacogdoches but who could resist a bike rally that included free crawfish and blues? Well, I could actually. See, although my family has deep roots in Louisiana crawfish have absolutely no appeal to me. I won’t eat them. Not in gumbo, not in etouffee, not in sausage, not on a stick or on a plate and certainly not boiled. But the Black Power Ranger does.
BPR is another buddy from work and he recently joined the motorcycling family with the purchase of a 2009 Harley Davidson Iron in black denim. I think this is one of the best looking bikes ever and I hate him for it. Anyway, he loves crawfish, especially boiled crawfish. He loves them so much that the lure of free crawfish got him to talk his wife into letting him head out with two crazies, Red was along as well, on a two hundred and fifty mile (one way) ride up to Nacogdoches.
Nacogdoches is only about 125 miles from my house and 155 from where BPR and Red live on the Southwest side of town. But Red and I seem to be challenged when it comes to planning simple, direct routes. What’s an extra hundred miles or so when you can take a route that includes The Forest (149) and OSR? Nothing I tell you, nothing! Well, at least not during the planning stages.
Anyway, the weather was great and we all made it to the met up point in Montgomery on time, even a little early and had a little breakfast at McDonalds. I should have known it was a bad sign that BPR, his real name is Jack, made at least three pit stops while we ate. Come to find out, the only thing smaller than the peanut tank on the Iron is BPR’s bladder. Stopping every eighty or so miles can get a little old, I thought, but with the right company even podunk gas stations are OK and this was definitely the right company.
Red was placed in the lead and had printed out a map beforehand. I don’t have a clue where that map lead to but he did have it in hand; literally, and on more than one occasion. First time to get lost? About 25 miles out of Montgomery in Anderson. Not sure where Red was heading since the road he was looking for wasn’t even on the map but he was definitely headed there in a hurry and with an amazing singularity of purpose. No amount of signaling, honking or waving could catch his attention. I finally had to pass him and cut him off in order to persuade him to pull over. My turn to lead.
I did not have a printed map but I am fairly familiar with the area, getting lost last time out here qualifies me for that, so I promised to get us back on track. We took highway 244 out of Anderson and up towards Carlos. This is not one of my very favorite roads but is not too bad and would get us where we needed to be. Somewhere along this stretch of road is a section that offers a great view of a valley and lake off to the left as the road climbs a small hill. At the top of the hill is a curve. A combination of distraction plus unexpected curve that has resulted in many a biker going down. As a safe ride leader I slowed for what I knew was on the way. I was too late.
Red blasted past me on the right, in my lane, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he has been riding since the Harley and Davidson families were close friends would have ended our day right there. Painfully. Apparently, he was distracted even before I started braking. Fortunately BPR had stopped trying to take pictures while riding and slowed appropriately. Red continued in the lead without knowing where we were and only vaguely where we were going which lead to another session of waving, honking and finally a block pass to make Ben Spies proud. As we sat on the side of highway 30 and reviewed the route he had printed it became clear that the map he had printed belonged to some alternative universe because those roads do not exist in this part of Texas. I was back in the lead again.
At one of our oh so frequent rest stops, this one in the metropolis of Normangee, BPR really had to go. I mean R-E-A-L-L-Y had to go. As he waddled off to find the little Power Ranger’s room he tossed me the key to his bike and asked me to move it for him...
What?
He entrusted the key to this object of my lust and desire to me? Without adult supervision? Power Rangers may be superheroes but this one lacks common sense <note the evil grin here>.
When he finally returned from the outhouse (the indoor plumbing was broken) I was on the Iron still doing laps around the gas station parking lot. With, as I discovered once the photographs were released, the biggest most sh*t eating grin on my face I can ever recall having seen on anyone, anytime, period. Both BPR and Red have their CHL and both were packing which is what it took to get me off that d@mned little bike! It is a real hoot to ride. I have never actually used the word hoot before but do so regularly now to describe the experience of riding that bike.
The remainder of the ride to Nacogdoches was a blur of good roads, nice scenery and good friends at each of the stops. A few high points included seeing bison out on one of the ranches we passed, BPR passing an unmarked police car in some small town, and Red doing his best to do an Evil Kneivel imitation on his FatBoy while crossing some railroad tracks. Finally, we made it the signs for the rally and turned on to the dirt road into the trees that lead to the festivities.
There were some cool bikes to be seen (
see more pics here) and the crawfish were indeed plentiful, and the music was OK. We took some time to sample all of these (no crawfish for me but the hot wings were not too bad) and sip some lemonade. Before long however the heat bean to sap the strength from our limbs as well as sucking the fun right out of us. The tall pines covering the area where the rally was being held helped block much of the sun but it also blocked any hint of a breeze and it was not long before Red suggested a ride to cool off. In a heartbeat we were back on the road and heading east.
The roads and company were again great and we soon lost all interest in returning to the rally. After crossing a pretty good sized bridge we stopped for photos a short rest. That was when I noticed the sign.
“Red, are we in Louisiana?”
“Yup.”
“Why?”
“Because that is what is on the other side of the bridge over Toledo Bend Reservoir.”
Dead silence. I mean what can you say to such simple and inarguable logic?
“Well, where too now?”
Shrug.
I think this was one of those pivotal moments in the space/time continuum where the entire world and the future of mankind hang on they next word, the next action. There was a deafening silence and the cars, birds and even the wind paused, hanging on the next word; the next action. No, not really, but it sure seemed that way. My life and continued marriage to my Wonderful Wife sure hung in the balance.
The temptation to continue eastward was strong. I am not sure where we would have ended up but I do know we would not have made it home at least for the next day and I would likely have become a single man. BPR would have lost all Power Ranger powers and privileges and Red; well Red would have been all right.
I think the Power Ranger spoke first, or maybe it was me. But one of us mumbled something about home ad there was another pause. Then, silently, we pulled our gear back on and headed back across the bridge to Texas and home. Our ambitions had not over reached our abilities; we had not gone a bridge too far. We had gone just far enough.
*****
There are a number of good sources for more information on Operation Market Garden such as this one on Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Market_Garden and a pretty good movie called (not surprisingly)
A Bridge Too Far.
There are three people who are most responsible for me 1) getting back into riding and 2) putting the Speedmaster up for sale and buying the Iron and we were all together for this ride. Stan, as I have already mentioned, Jack the Black Power Ranger (BPM) and Red all met up at Dozier’s in Fulshear. Unfortunately, in order to beat the heat we were there before they were open so no BBQ or Dr. Pepper to start off the day.
We walked back out into the heat and wandered around the courthouse square. Most of the vendors were still setting up for the festivities but that was all right as it allowed us time to admire the beautifully restored courthouse. Built in 1889, it has recently gone through a major renovation to restore it to its original design and looks really great. Built around the courthouse are a number of monuments commemorating Wharton County residents who were killed while serving in the armed forces. One monument is for those killed in the Civil War. Another monument has the names from a variety of conflicts including one from the Boxer Rebellion.
There were quite a few vendors around the square one of which was selling various biker shirts and stuff. I have never been a guy to wear “do rags” but they had one with chili peppers on it and I had no hat to keep the old noggin from burning in the sun. The guys said it makes me look like John Travolta in Wild Hogs. I thinks it makes me look like a doof.
The car show was pretty good and there were some pretty awesome cars but the heat was too much and we had to call it a day pretty early. Heading out of town we had to stop for pictures at on old motel where the rooms were shaped like teepees. 
Wharton seemed like a pretty nice place to visit. I would like to make another trip out there when it is a little cooler and I have a little more time to explore the town.
