After the bad ass stop off at East Bay, I was stoked to have some quiet time on the road. We headed Southeast toward Trinity and took our time. I love Texas highways. We rolled into Trinity and got to White's garage, our camp spot, around dusk. Ric White is one cool ass motherfucker. He mostly does cars, but hes got a killer '60 Pan/shovel that screams. We took a drive through the pasture so Andy and Ric could talk to the Wizard by the pond and a HUGE fucking snake struck at my boot when we almost ran it over. It was a sobering moment for sure. As usual things got just barely below out of hand. There was blood, there was lost boots, keep an eye out for trinity 911 coming out soon on CMT. There were no cops, but there was some bikini boxing. You're gonna have to hit Tyler up for those pics, I didn't take any. Pancho kicked off the following morning and we spent 4 days riding all through Central Texas, coolin' off in the river and bad ass Texas bbq. Stanley bailed after 2 days to go to a "more sensible run" he called ours "a real black t-shirt affair" I also overheard him call my '66 a "late model bike" to one of his old buddies on the celluphone. Fucker. I had the pleasure of meeting a cool motherfucker named Jimmi from Florida, and re-meeting some great people i hadn't seen since the last Pancho i was on in 2010. Outkasts and horrors are cool as shit crews. I bet you could rent Troy, Keith and Tony for parties, it would be worth it (if you have insurance). Lots of riding great roads, 335, 336 & 337 aka - three sisters was one highlight. It's like riding an amusement park ride, where you could die. totally amazing. I got some props from Cory aka: innocent bystander for handling those curves on my deathtrap, which means a lot to me coming from such a bad ass fabricator. We went to an antique motorcycle museum in the middle of nowhere. I drank so much Red Bull i should get a sponsorship. We hung out in some really cool old bars, including one called Rileys that has been open since 1933. First bar in Texas after prohibition or so they say. We ate good too. I ran out of gas twice but neither time was too much of a pain. Thanks Rob. Fuck Costa Rica man, you belong in Texas. The word is that this is the last year for the Pancho run, but there's already some mumblings of what's coming next. Maybe it'll be called something else, hell I don't care what its called as long as I can ride with such a bad ass group of people again I'll be fine. Hasta la vista, Pancho.