Twisted Sisters

“I know it’s your birthday — but — the thing I really want to do is see the Three Sisters.” I am corrected—it’s the Twisted Sisters.  And no, their names ARE NOT Janice, Charlotte, and Sharon, although many people might think they should be. Michael for one.

Driving on back roads away from our Treehouse home, the weather is glorious. Heading for the highway, I tell Michael, “You can put the top down on the car whenever you want.” He gets the hint. We pull over and down it goes.

Searching for Lunch

Our first stop is lunch in the tiny town of Leakey. The Internet lists ten different restaurants where we might dine—loose interpretation of the word—and as we drive down the highway it looks as if each one of them is closed. We take a left turn looking for the Bent Rim Grill—I like the view—only to pass it up. We backtrack and find it. Another case of no one home. None of this is a surprise to us because we are in the country. It is the off-season. It is Monday.

La La’s Mexican Restaurant

Back in town, we head for the one restaurant where we saw cars parked in front—La La’s Mexican Restaurant. Plain. Bare bones. Utilitarian. Its lack of atmosphere is the atmosphere. I order a Mexican plate. Michael chooses a cheese-burger. Perhaps not the best idea. When the food is set before us I look down upon a plate of my childhood memories—my Mother’s beef enchiladas. The rice is tasty. The refried beans are, well, refried beans. The taco and chalupa are made with flour tortillas. They taste the same, with the same ingredients—only the shape is different. Michael is not too fond of his cheeseburger. I guess it will be a birthday lunch to remember.

  

North on RR336

In the car, we are ready to hit the open road of the Twisted Sisters—consisting of three Texas Ranch Roads, 335, 336 and 337—that twist and turn, dip and curl, climb and churn their way through the Texas Hills west of Utopia. This is a route that goes nowhere. There is absolutely no reason to drive on it unless you love the hills, the sky and the joy of the drive. This route is a favorite of motorcyclists—and me. We drove the Twisted Sisters once before, when we took the very long, out-of-the-way, way home after lunch at the Laurel Tree one Saturday.  That time we were rushed. Today we have all the time in the world.

Michael asks if we should go backward or forward on the Twisted Sisters. “You decide,” I say.

We head north out of Leakey toward RR336. Climbing out of the valley on the first leg of our Twisted Sisters journey, cotton ball fluffed clouds hang so low I feel I can touch them. I worry about rain. Michael gives me a quick lesson on clouds, their types, evaporation, and formation. Apparently, I don’t have to worry. But these newly formed rising clouds are something to behold. They take my breath away with their whiteness, their beauty, and their closeness.

A Choice to Make

We reach a point in the road where Michael stops the car. He pulls out our worn copy of all the roads in Texas (there are probably more now—but not where we are) and gives me a choice.  We can continue on, join up with Texas 41 then head south on RR335—or—we can turn left on RR3235 and reach RR335 the back way.  My choice. I will always choose the path less taken—even if I can see the roads will be unimproved. Dirt. Gravel. Rock.  It doesn’t matter to me.

For awhile we are on pavement and I tell Michael, “This road isn’t so bad.”

Off the Beaten Path

Immediately it changes personality. We reach a Y in the road and have a choice. “It looks like we should keep left,” I say.

We are in the middle of nowhere, coming from nowhere, going nowhere. My cell phone says the road does not exist. We are a small blue dot in a vast sea of pale gray. We push ahead. We’ve been here before. Not necessarily here, here. But here. In the same type of place.  In Mexico. England. Spain. Italy. Canada.  The U.S.  Take your choice. Mexico was the scariest. I remember a flat tire at 14,000 feet. But that is a story for another day.

I wonder if this is what Columbus felt like? I wonder this each time. It is us. It is the rocks. The hills. The occasional low water crossing. This is definitely the road less traveled.  Michael stops and looks at the map. He thinks I have led us astray.

We reach a wide place in the river that we must ford, and we see a sign of life. A lone motorcyclist on the other side.  There is only room for one of us on the submerged crossing. He lets us go first.  Wise man.  When we reach the other side, we stop the car long enough for Michael to ask, “How far to the black-top?” He tells us it is about five more miles and, “There are two more bump gates and two more water crossings.”

“How deep?” Michael asks. The motorcyclist extends his arm, triangulating the depth of the water ahead with his motorcycle, the earth, and his hand.  “You should be able to make it,” he says.

A Water Crossing Too Deep

We power on, passing through one bump gate and immediately approach something I am sure should be classified as a lake. We do not immediately begin our crossing.  Instead, Michael exits the car, puts on his river shoes, rolls up his jeans, and walks right in. It is not Moses crossing the Red Sea. It is Michael walking in water up to his knees. He doesn’t even need to say the words.  I know we need to turn back.  It is a good thing Columbus didn’t.

When we reach the point in the road where I made the fateful decision to turn left, we see our motorcycle friend standing in the shade of a tree, waving to us. The blacktop with its twists and turns seems pretty tame.  Pretty safe.

Driving East

Having traversed the lengthiest portion of the Twisted Sisters, we drive east on 337, stopping once again in Leakey. This time at the Bear Market where we have been led to believe that we can buy any manner of food and snacks for picnics.  I’m thinking a relaxing night on the deck with our good wine, some great cheese, cured meat, and a baguette. Maybe grapes. Perhaps olives. It depends on the cheese.

Well, the most exotic thing in the cheese section is a tub of pimento cheese which sits alongside Kraft grated cheddar cheese and sliced cheese for sandwiches. Ritz Crackers are available too.  I should probably settle for this but instead, I look for Michael.

Finding him I say, “I think we need to have your birthday dinner at the Lost Maples Café.”

The Twisted Sisters

Texas RR 335 – RR 336 – RR 337

This 100-mile loop is believed to be among the best, most challenging motorcycle roads in the state. It is fun for convertibles too.  If you want to veer off the beaten path I’d suggest a jeep. The route follows canyons and climbs jagged, steep hills, many tight, twisty curves, and sheer drop-offs alongside. In one 15-mile section, there are approximately 65 curves.

I believe one of the most beautiful parts of this drive is RR337, pick it up in Medina and follow it through Vanderpool to Camp Wood.  It is glorious!