You got out of Minneapolis just in time. It has been downhill all week with snow on the ground now. 
Sounds like the bike is holding together, mostly. 
Good luck on the road to Austin. I have to say that Skonnie's bike does have a nice rat bike patina going on, the tank was pretty cool.
Yeah, Watkins told me its been 27º. He went riding in it, the tough bastard. Its been sort of a recurring joke, that for four straight days after I left MPLS it was still 38º, no matter how far south i got. Kind of like the movie "Groundhog Day".
So, I dropped radio contact to avoid tipping off my friend that I was actually rolling into Austin. I had a feeling the bike would make it once I got into Texas. The landscape crossing the Red River melted my heart. Wide open and so vast, it makes you gasp for air. Its just impossible to comprehend the enormity of it all. I thought so little of Oklahoma that I took one picture at the first rest stop, and just plowed through the rest of the state in 6 hours. Route 69 is not bad, though heavily trafficked by semis. The roads are nice and smooth, though characterized by rain grooves in the pavement that are worn smooth in the tracks, but liable to grab your wheels in the middle. I stopped for gas around Oktaha and was told I looked like "that guy in Sons of Anarchy". I told her I was more like a nephew of socialism and this confused her.
Whatever.
So, I stopped in Sherman, shat, showered and shaved (not really) and basically just pressed on. I feel bad that I've forsaken all the small roads I planned on taking. I feel like I'm cheating myself out of one of the principle reasons I went on this trip. I had visions of bucolic country roads and rolling landscape unfurling before me, but this trip has shown itself to be a death match more than anything. Weather, long days and plans to meet new forum folks have all conspired to make the trip into my own personal enduro race. I don't so much enjoy the journey as I enjoy the feeling of conquering my fears and doubts about the journey. Every day the bike starts and transports me several hundred miles is a victory. Every time I twist the throttle at 70 mph and there's still something left, I've won somehow. But tunnel vision is setting in, and all I can think about, and the only measure of success or failure will be whether or not I make it to Austin.
Accordingly, I decide to take it easy and split the remaining 260 miles into two days. This way, I can take country roads and get back to enjoying the ride.
But then, the rain comes back.
Its not that bad on the first leg, from Sherman to Waco, but its enough to make me conservative and just want to get through Dallas and stick to I-35. Probably the worst thing about Dallas traffic is that its largely composed of people from Dallas. They drive like #$%*s. I think they know this, which is why they choose to elevate themselves above such a low station in life by driving extremely tall vehicles. But by alternating between riding homicidally fast and very slow, I make it through Dallas in under an hour. By then, I'm almost to Waco, so screw it. It would have taken me 5 hours to go around Dallas, so there you have it.
Waco is an interesting town. I'd scoped out some hotels, but have a tough time finding them. I decide to stop and have a beer and ask the locals where I should stay. The Hilton it is, I guess. The town reminds me of Joplin, MO. in the sense that its been been beat up a bit by the recession. Lots of empty lots and warehouses. The first intersection I stop at features a man wearing a monk's robe and a staff, directing imaginary events or traffic. Fascinating. I am proud to say that I did not mention the name David Koresh once while I was in Waco.
The rain held off during most of my trip to Waco, but its nothing but pisswater and endless grey vistas the next morning. I wake up and it rains and rains and rains. I check out, and spend the next 3 hours waiting in the hotel lobby, hitting "refresh" on the weather channel site to see if the green and blue blob will pass over the words, "Waco". I get precisely one bar of interweb, so the hilarious absurdity of receiving instantaneous info over the web meets the reality of waiting 5 minutes for a page to load. I might as well just stare out the window and guess.
But it lifts, and I'm out of there, albeit 3 hours late. Again, the idea of taking fun roads takes a backseat, and I'm off on I-35 again. I have a date with old friends and multiple pints of Oktoberfest at the best bike-friendly bar in Austin, Lovejoy's. For the first time in almost two weeks, I'm burning up. Its close to 90º, and anything less than 50 mph worth of wind hitting me is not enough. But I'm close to Austin, and in my skewed sense of time and space, being 40 miles away is almost close enough to spit on it. Through Temple, TX. and I discover another new wrinkle of warm weather: giant dragonflies and insects in general. I have to remind myself not to duck, and in good time I'm face to face with several freakishly large dragonflies suiciding themselves on my visor.
Austin is reached with a minimum of stop and go traffic, and without further ado I'm parked in front of Lovejoy's. All the old crew is there, and soon giant Oktoberfest steins are being clinked. Cheers to cheating death, cheers to Austin, cheers to #$%*ing everything. Friends arrive, and the rest of the evening devolves into a blur of tacos and Lone Star.
According to my odometer, this whole thing took 1925 miles. Its hard to keep focus and remember that this is just one leg of the trip, the next being New Orleans and halloween, with a return trip that may have to include a truck if the weather turns. The bike's fairly strong, but it needs an oil change and possibly new pods or an air box if I can score one. I think the oil leak is going to be OK, but there is a mechanic here, though I doubt he'd be able to patch my bike up in less than two weeks, considering the need to remove the engine. I have a well deserved day or two off the bike, but I need to sort this out.
Still, with the help and hospitality of forum members, their kind advice and the thousands of posts that served as a bible to sohc repair, I got this far. Who's to say I can't make it the rest of the way.
Wow, what is, a #$%*ing novel? Time to do some day drinking. Pics later.
