It was a pretty soggy, foggy start to the day Friday. I had spent the night in Brownfield, TX at a Best Western after a sleepless previous Thursday night in Albuquerque. I slept well last night. It was worth the Ben Franklin it cost. Much rested this morning as I headed into the…fog…the soup. Locals were calling it rainy but in my book it was a heavy mist.

My leather riding pants were a comfort this AM. It finally warmed up later in the afternoon as I got into the Texas hill country and I was able to change into my jeans and chaps. The warmer weather was a big welcome. The hill country is pretty much rolling hills covered with oak trees. It reminded me in a sense of the California area west of Sacramento around the Capay Valley where I was in the early 80’s. We rode through that country a couple of years ago when we rode the Harley out to the left coast on Highway 50. Much the same kind of country only these hills aren’t as big.

The goal was to find some blue bonnets and so far other than a smattering of them in the medians and barrow ditches, I’ve yet to see anything close to the calendar photos I’ve seen. I pulled into Fredricksburg, Texas late in the afternoon and was shocked to find a very crowded little tourist town. People were streaming down the sidewalks in droves. The traffic was very tight and congested, much like Jackson, Wyo on the 4th of July. I managed to get off onto a side street and found a big park where I was able to stop and gather my wits. I pulled out my iPad to look for some place to stay and found a KAO on the edge of town about 5 miles out. I reset my GPS and got out of there.

At the KAO I was told there was no room at the inn…they were full to capacity. I looked at the nice lady in shock and asked, “What’s the big occasion?” She said it was Easter weekend and “Trade Days” was this weekend. Trade Days is apparently a huge swap meet that draws people from all over the region. I asked about the famous Blue Bonnets that I was in search of and she shook her head sadly and said that because of the lack of rain, they were not happening around there. “Try farther north”. she offered.

Somewhat dejected I sat on the bike trying to figure out what to do. I’d come a long ways for this and to be told that it wasn’t happening was a blow. It was a good thing that son Glenn lived in San Antonio and he was the second reason I was down here.

I pushed on to San Antonio and arrived at Glenn’s just before dark. It was good to see him and call it a day.