The roads between Tyler and Caddo Lake were so good that after lunch we skipped the straight shot home and drove half of them again. We had 22 cars, I put 397 miles on the Skipper, and we ate catfish at Big Pines Lodge, a few miles from a town actually named Uncertain. The roads made the day, the group made it fun, and lunch was better than the photos I didn’t take.
The back half is the best driving I’ve found in East Texas
The first hour out of Princeton was straight, and I won’t pretend otherwise. US-380 east through Farmersville to Greenville, then US-69 southeast through Lone Oak, Emory and Alba. Flat farm country, long two-lane, the sun coming up in front of us. By the GPX it averaged roughly 10 to 30 degrees of turning per mile.
Past Alba the route turned south off 69, and the number jumped to 50 to 100 per mile past Lindale and around the north side of Tyler. After Tyler it got better. The twistiest stretch by the GPX ran north from Big Sandy around 10 o’clock, then again from Gilmer east past Ore City, and again near Jefferson and Karnack. Hills, curves, tall pines on both sides, and speed limits that fit the road instead of fighting it.
East Texas never got higher than about 700 feet all day, but it never stopped changing. The GPX logged about 4,700 feet of climbing on the way out, in a part of the state people assume is flat. And the traffic was almost nonexistent, which matters more to us than anything else on that list. A Sunday morning in the Piney Woods belongs to whoever gets up early.
The proof is what we did after lunch. We left at 1:00 and reran the back half: past Jefferson, Ore City and Gilmer, through the curves north of Big Sandy, and only then west on US-80 to Mineola and the straight roads home. Yes, we took the long way there and most of the long way home too. Out was 208 miles in 4 hours 18 minutes, including a stop. Back was 189 miles in 3 hours 31.
22 cars and nobody complained about the cold
It was 55 degrees at 6:30 in the Walmart parking lot next to Dutch Bros Coffee in Princeton, and everyone with a cabriolet drove with the top down. I wore shorts and a polo, which was a choice. Luckily I’d left my fleece vest in the Skipper. Vest on, heat blasting, seat heaters and steering wheel heater on full, and I was fine. My ears were another story. I’d have paid real money for a wool hat.
Eleven friends from our local Porsche club showed up, a great turnout for an hour when sensible people are still asleep. Everyone walked over to Matt’s car first. He’d just taken delivery of a new 911 Carrera T in Oak Green Metallic with fewer than 300 miles on it, and until the break-in miles are done he’s supposed to keep it under 4,000 rpm. A 400-mile day is a good way to chip away at that. We rolled out at 7:00. The GPX says 7:01, which I’ll allow.
At Casey’s Travel Center, 16242 US-271 in Tyler, we met up with an East Texas Porsche club. Mostly Porsches, but in the mix were two BMWs, including an M2, I spent a good part of the stop drooling over, an Audi SUV, a Subaru WRX in a yellow nearly as loud as the Skipper, and a Ferrari. Red, of course. From there on, we had 22 cars driving together. We topped off our fuel tanks, emptied our personal tanks, and headed out with Reese leading in the Ferrari.
Twenty-two cars means somebody gets caught at a light, and several did. Their ROADS app then decided the best way to rejoin the group was to send them back to the start in Princeton, about 115 miles behind us. The fix, for future reference: when you start a route in ROADS mid-drive, choose the closest starting point, or it wants you to start from the very beginning. Rather than explain that on the shoulder of a highway, I told them I’d wait and lead them the rest of the way. Racing Yellow with Martini livery earns its keep here. You can spot the Skipper from a long way back, which is the entire job description of a sweep car.
Lunch was better than the photos I didn’t take
We rolled into Big Pines Lodge at 11:19. I’d have guessed 11:30, but the GPX doesn’t guess. We lined the cars up and took photos, because that’s what we do: a Ferrari, a pair of BMWs and a row of Porsches in front of a weathered wood lodge, with bald cypress and Spanish moss along the water behind them and somebody’s canoes on a trailer in the corner of the lot.
Catfish is their specialty, so catfish it was. I went with the blackened catfish and a crawfish étouffée. On the wall hung a framed copy of the Cajun 10 Commandments. Number nine reads “Don’t go wantin’ nobody’s stuff.” I read it twice and thought about that M2.
I wish I’d taken photos of our lunch setting along the river. It was beautiful, and I didn’t take a single one, because I was too busy talking with Joann, Chantel, Matt, Patrick and Paul. I’ll take that trade.
We’re definitely coming back. Next time I’m bringing the wool hat.
