Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Sunday Ride on the Harley
But even more pronouced is the visual scenery. There are no glares on the windows to obstruct your view. The roads curved and dipped between a smorgusboard of trees. Carlos is mainly cow country as it's too hilly for farming. Morning glories crowned the barbed wire fences with an array of violet and pink. We passed a couple who couldn't resist pulling their bike to the side to partake in a little afternoon smooching. DH couldn't resiste honking at them. Ah, young love. Traveling through Richardswas like entering a time warp. I felt as if I were on the set for a western film. The buildings looked as if they could have been built in the 1850's. I made DH stop so I could snap a picture.
On the outskirts of Richards, the foliage changed. Within minutes, we'd found a wall of pines that reached for the skies. We'd entered the edge of Sam Houston National Forest. En route, other bikers enjoyed the same path. We greeted each rider with the universal signal, a slight movement of the right hand stretched out to the side. The tunnel of pines stretched out for miles. The fresh odors titillated my senses. Somewhere along the way, a strong floral scent filled the air and though I could see no flowers among the thick pines, it smelled similar to honeysuckle. I even detected the delicate aroma of gardenia at some point in our journey.
Once we exited the trail of pines, we entered Montgomery and headed for Conroe. Once we hit Conroe, the sights and sounds changed to reflect the feeling of a large city. There, we checked out the old marina where we used to dock our sailboat. It just wasn't the same as before. They had added a few new things, but it was still well kept and brought back a wealth of memories.
From there, we visited old haunts then decided it was time for lunch. So many choices.