Please go to http://www.crazyguyonabike.com/doc/dansbikeride
for updates on this ride.
The last few days have been updated exclusively on that site for no other reason than little time to maintain both sites.
I will add photos to the last few days as time allows.
Stay tuned.
Arrival: Sunday June 22...3pm into Ocean Beach down Newport Boulevard.
Then to Sunshine Company for a beer(s) on the rooftop deck.
Plan to come out.
PS. Don't forget: www.charitywater.org/getinvolved/promos/danaltenburg/
Thanks.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Rest Days in Mesa, AZ
Thursday June 12, 2008: Hung out at the Clausing residence watching an Incredible Hulk marathon on the SciFi Network on TV while updating the blog. Dinner with Willie, Randy, their daughter-in-law Jen, and granddaughter Macy. Homemade meatloaf and squash. Great to have a homecooked meal again!
Friday June 13, 2008: More Incredible Hulk on TV while I updated the blog. Out to dinner with Willie & Randy at a Cajun Seafood place within walking distance of the condo. Watched the movie "The Bucket List" at night. Feel pretty good about the things I have knocked off my own "bucket list" in the last 18 months.
Saturday June 14, 2008: Reunited with Clint & Denae Steeves, friends I had met at a resort in Cancun 6 years ago and hadn't seen since despite communicating by email. Clint, Denae and I went to pick up my friend Mike from the airport. After he assembled his bike at their house, Mike & I made a run with the truck to ship out the empty bike case, and then pick up a couple things at REI. Once we returned, we went to dinner with the Steeves at Grimaldi Pizzeria in Scottsdale, AZ, followed by a few drinks at one of the local bars.
Sunday June 15, 2008: Enjoyed Fathers Day french toast breakfast at the Clausing residence with Willie & Randy, and their son Claude, his wife Jen, and 2 year old Macy. Rhubarb pie was the capper!!! After some prep to head out later today to Surprise, AZ Randy, Mike, and I grilled bratwurst at the condo using the new grill Willie bought for Randy on Saturday. Staying at Days Inn in Surprise, AZ tonight for an early start to Aguila, AZ.
Friday June 13, 2008: More Incredible Hulk on TV while I updated the blog. Out to dinner with Willie & Randy at a Cajun Seafood place within walking distance of the condo. Watched the movie "The Bucket List" at night. Feel pretty good about the things I have knocked off my own "bucket list" in the last 18 months.
Saturday June 14, 2008: Reunited with Clint & Denae Steeves, friends I had met at a resort in Cancun 6 years ago and hadn't seen since despite communicating by email. Clint, Denae and I went to pick up my friend Mike from the airport. After he assembled his bike at their house, Mike & I made a run with the truck to ship out the empty bike case, and then pick up a couple things at REI. Once we returned, we went to dinner with the Steeves at Grimaldi Pizzeria in Scottsdale, AZ, followed by a few drinks at one of the local bars.
Sunday June 15, 2008: Enjoyed Fathers Day french toast breakfast at the Clausing residence with Willie & Randy, and their son Claude, his wife Jen, and 2 year old Macy. Rhubarb pie was the capper!!! After some prep to head out later today to Surprise, AZ Randy, Mike, and I grilled bratwurst at the condo using the new grill Willie bought for Randy on Saturday. Staying at Days Inn in Surprise, AZ tonight for an early start to Aguila, AZ.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Globe, AZ to Mesa, AZ (40 miles)
Wednesday June 11, 2008
Rise & Shine! I got up a little later than yesterday simply because I knew a good chunk of my ride today would be downhill. Awake at 4:30am, my first discovery was that the Super (duper) 8 motel in Globe has a mix of both working as well as non-working electrical outlets. I was greeted this morning by a GPS unit that warned “battery low” even though I had plugged it in last night. With this warning, I had time to at least get some charge in it to carry me to Mesa, AZ today. Lesson learned: Do not take an electrical outlet for granted. Sometimes they are just “holes”.
Next, I opened the tiny refrigerator that was in the room to find warm drinks inside. A refrigerator is a really nice feature since I can buy drinks the previous night and be ready to go in the morning, thus avoiding a stop for drinks only a couple minutes into that morning’s ride. Well, last night I noticed it wasn’t working, and the young Indian girl behind the desk came over to the room, turned a timer on the back of the unit (what refrigerator has a timer???) and said “There you go. Your drinks will be cold in the morning.” The fact she admitted to never having seen a refrigerator with a timer on it before should’ve alarmed me to suspicion, but she seemed to have such confidence, and I was tired, so I went with it. Lesson learned: Trust no refrigerator with a timer.
Taking my time in preparing this morning so the GPS unit could charge, I still made it on the road by 6am-ish. Last night, I had walked into downtown Globe, a two block area with a few shops. After enjoying a couple Happy Hour beers at a 40-year old establishment “Under the Palms” bar filled with salty residents, I wandered outside to find an old pickup truck used partly as a drawing card to an adjacent store. I walked in to find a store filled with cool unique items. I explained to the owner, who had relaxed in a chair up front, that I simply couldn’t afford the weight of the items since I was riding a bike across the country. So instead, we talked for a while and I parted remembering his genuine smile and good wishes for the remainder of my trip. Barely down the road this morning, the same potentially 1948 Ford pickup had just turned onto the highway heading my way. Soon I saw the same big grin and an arm waving out of the driver’s side window silently wishing me well as I headed out of town. “Cool”, I thought. “Only in a small town would you see the same guy twice within only 12 hours.”
They say that Globe, Arizona is an old copper mining town (and even older silver mining town), while Safford, Arizona is a new copper mining town. The neighboring towns of Claypool and Miami located nearby Globe, were started to support the mining industry as well. Glad to see flat to slightly downhill roads, I made good time clearing each of these places.
Once through Miami, I found the job of climbing was to begin. Miami lies at 3,400 feet elevation, while the road I was climbing lead to Top Of The World, Arizona near the top of Signal Mountain at 4,600 feet. This steep path to God would’ve intimidated me at the start in Florida, but now I sip some water, crank down into a low spinning gear, and settle in without any expectation for speed knowing that sooner or later I will get there.
On top of the pass, I got a text from Willie Clausing, Audrey’s mom. She had noticed the winds were expected to be bad and offered a ride to Mesa, Arizona. I knew there were two mountain passes on today’s docket, and I wanted to earn any ride in a car I accepted today. Having earned the downhill side of this mountain pass road, I continued biking while evaluating the winds and enjoying the scenery as I went, anticipating a climb to the next mountain pass ahead.
Just east of the town of Superior, I found myself at the entrance of Queen Creek Tunnel built in 1952, replacing the 1926 Claypool tunnel, which resembled little more than a single path blasted through the mountain itself. Queen Creek Tunnel offered two lanes coming my way, while one lane led the way toward Mesa. Glad to be on the uphill side of this ¼-mile long tunnel, I turned on my flashing headlamp and my flashing tail light and started inside. It made to be a fast and wild ride rather than the hazardous uphill effort coming from the other side. (Check out the video at http://video.aol.com/video-detail/queen-creek-tunnel/789441012 and notice there is no shoulder space for bicycles inside the tunnel.)
The ride through the tunnel was capped by a flight across the Salt River arched bridge. Seeing a truck behind me, I thought he was being kind maintaining a slow pace and distance behind me. It was only at the end of the day that I checked the GPS and found my max speed was 70 mph. He wasn’t holding back. I was simply flying.
In the town of Superior, Willie and I coordinated a pickup location at Florence Junction. That would enable me to reap the downhill rewards and provide her some time to get there. After meeting her on the side of the road, we secured the bike to her car and drove by the Superstition Mountains on the 30 mile drive back to Mesa. The Superstition Mountains are the mysterious home of Jacob Waltz’s “Lost Dutchman Mine”. For some good reading, check out… http://www.prairieghosts.com/dutchman.html
Back at the relaxing home of Randy & Willie Clausing, after doing some laundry and enjoying a
home-cooked meal, I got together with a former Tektronix colleague, Chad Eby. Sharing laughs about “old times” as well as laughs about what has occurred to both of us since then, we enjoyed a few beers at Four Peaks Brewery near ASU before pausing our anecdotes, agreeing to meet again soon, and calling it a night.
Rise & Shine! I got up a little later than yesterday simply because I knew a good chunk of my ride today would be downhill. Awake at 4:30am, my first discovery was that the Super (duper) 8 motel in Globe has a mix of both working as well as non-working electrical outlets. I was greeted this morning by a GPS unit that warned “battery low” even though I had plugged it in last night. With this warning, I had time to at least get some charge in it to carry me to Mesa, AZ today. Lesson learned: Do not take an electrical outlet for granted. Sometimes they are just “holes”.
Next, I opened the tiny refrigerator that was in the room to find warm drinks inside. A refrigerator is a really nice feature since I can buy drinks the previous night and be ready to go in the morning, thus avoiding a stop for drinks only a couple minutes into that morning’s ride. Well, last night I noticed it wasn’t working, and the young Indian girl behind the desk came over to the room, turned a timer on the back of the unit (what refrigerator has a timer???) and said “There you go. Your drinks will be cold in the morning.” The fact she admitted to never having seen a refrigerator with a timer on it before should’ve alarmed me to suspicion, but she seemed to have such confidence, and I was tired, so I went with it. Lesson learned: Trust no refrigerator with a timer.
Taking my time in preparing this morning so the GPS unit could charge, I still made it on the road by 6am-ish. Last night, I had walked into downtown Globe, a two block area with a few shops. After enjoying a couple Happy Hour beers at a 40-year old establishment “Under the Palms” bar filled with salty residents, I wandered outside to find an old pickup truck used partly as a drawing card to an adjacent store. I walked in to find a store filled with cool unique items. I explained to the owner, who had relaxed in a chair up front, that I simply couldn’t afford the weight of the items since I was riding a bike across the country. So instead, we talked for a while and I parted remembering his genuine smile and good wishes for the remainder of my trip. Barely down the road this morning, the same potentially 1948 Ford pickup had just turned onto the highway heading my way. Soon I saw the same big grin and an arm waving out of the driver’s side window silently wishing me well as I headed out of town. “Cool”, I thought. “Only in a small town would you see the same guy twice within only 12 hours.”
They say that Globe, Arizona is an old copper mining town (and even older silver mining town), while Safford, Arizona is a new copper mining town. The neighboring towns of Claypool and Miami located nearby Globe, were started to support the mining industry as well. Glad to see flat to slightly downhill roads, I made good time clearing each of these places.
Once through Miami, I found the job of climbing was to begin. Miami lies at 3,400 feet elevation, while the road I was climbing lead to Top Of The World, Arizona near the top of Signal Mountain at 4,600 feet. This steep path to God would’ve intimidated me at the start in Florida, but now I sip some water, crank down into a low spinning gear, and settle in without any expectation for speed knowing that sooner or later I will get there.
On top of the pass, I got a text from Willie Clausing, Audrey’s mom. She had noticed the winds were expected to be bad and offered a ride to Mesa, Arizona. I knew there were two mountain passes on today’s docket, and I wanted to earn any ride in a car I accepted today. Having earned the downhill side of this mountain pass road, I continued biking while evaluating the winds and enjoying the scenery as I went, anticipating a climb to the next mountain pass ahead.
Just east of the town of Superior, I found myself at the entrance of Queen Creek Tunnel built in 1952, replacing the 1926 Claypool tunnel, which resembled little more than a single path blasted through the mountain itself. Queen Creek Tunnel offered two lanes coming my way, while one lane led the way toward Mesa. Glad to be on the uphill side of this ¼-mile long tunnel, I turned on my flashing headlamp and my flashing tail light and started inside. It made to be a fast and wild ride rather than the hazardous uphill effort coming from the other side. (Check out the video at http://video.aol.com/video-detail/queen-creek-tunnel/789441012 and notice there is no shoulder space for bicycles inside the tunnel.)
The ride through the tunnel was capped by a flight across the Salt River arched bridge. Seeing a truck behind me, I thought he was being kind maintaining a slow pace and distance behind me. It was only at the end of the day that I checked the GPS and found my max speed was 70 mph. He wasn’t holding back. I was simply flying.
In the town of Superior, Willie and I coordinated a pickup location at Florence Junction. That would enable me to reap the downhill rewards and provide her some time to get there. After meeting her on the side of the road, we secured the bike to her car and drove by the Superstition Mountains on the 30 mile drive back to Mesa. The Superstition Mountains are the mysterious home of Jacob Waltz’s “Lost Dutchman Mine”. For some good reading, check out… http://www.prairieghosts.com/dutchman.html
Back at the relaxing home of Randy & Willie Clausing, after doing some laundry and enjoying a
home-cooked meal, I got together with a former Tektronix colleague, Chad Eby. Sharing laughs about “old times” as well as laughs about what has occurred to both of us since then, we enjoyed a few beers at Four Peaks Brewery near ASU before pausing our anecdotes, agreeing to meet again soon, and calling it a night.
Safford, AZ to Globe, AZ (79 miles)
Tuesday June 10, 2008
I was up earlier than I had been since my Dad woke me in highschool to help with frost protection when the freezing cold threatened his crop of strawberries. I woke at 3:30am, and was on the road by 4:40am. This time no flats found in the motel room and I could get started on time. Of course it is dark at 4:40am. The sun comes out at 5:15am-ish, so I was equipped with headlamp and flashing tail light.
Starting out it was about 64 degrees F. The road was slight downhill for the 20 miles my knees took to stop griping at me. I didn't want to leave today. I would've liked a day to rest, but Safford is overcrowded with copper mine workers, and the room I was in was reserved. It would've been difficult to find another room, and with the record high of 105/106F in Safford expected, I wanted out to higher ground.
After slowly giving up elevation from the 2,900 feet at Safford, 20 miles out at 2,500 feet it started to turn upward. Maybe my knees just wanted some challenges because they stopped their griping and went to work after that.
Distractions for me included some beautiful scenery along the way and continued songs via my Ipod. I didn't take too many photos today because I knew the road was largely uphill (then down, then back up, then down, then way back up, etc) and my pace would slow into the hours of threatening heat.
I rode through an Apache Indian Reservation. Stopping to get some drinks and a sandwich at Peridot on US Highway 70, I had a poor experience at the only convenience store there. I bought a large soda from the fountain and filled the largest cup with ice almost to the top since I was interested in the ice not the soda. I also bought two waters to transfer to my water bottles on the bike thinking i would drink the soda and then use the ice in my bottles. After filling one water bottle, I ran out of ice, so I thought he will let me get more ice as long as I use the same fountain cup. After asking "Is it OK if I just grab some more ice in this cup?"..."You will have to pay for more ice", I was told. Wow. I think they are still bitter about the whole cowboys and Indians thing. I wasn't about to support that, so I went iceless in that bottle. (Note: I saw a pallet of Cobra malt liquor being wheeled into the store as I left. Make your own call on that one, but know that the shoulders of the highway had many broken beer bottles on them.)
That story is evidence there isn't much to say today. Finally, I came to Globe at elevation of 3,500 feet. Temperature when I arrived was 93 degrees F, and I immediately rewarded myself with Dairy Queen on the way to the Super (Duper) 8 motel.
I am proud of two back to back long distance rides without a rest day in a while. Yesterday's 78 miles was topped by today's 79 miles of cranking a 100 pound bike (with gear) up the hills. Tomorrow, I understand there is great scenery and bridges between Globe and Apache Junction (near Phoenix metro area), and after a little effort to get started uphill, it is a nice drop most of the way, including riding through a long tunnel blasted through a mountain. Lucky for me, the slope of the tunnel is in my favor from this direction, otherwise I have been told it is unsafe from the other way.
Pics will be added for these pages when I am in Phoenix for a few days. Planning to leave there Monday June 16 with my friend Mike arriving from San Diego to join in the last leg of the trip.
I was up earlier than I had been since my Dad woke me in highschool to help with frost protection when the freezing cold threatened his crop of strawberries. I woke at 3:30am, and was on the road by 4:40am. This time no flats found in the motel room and I could get started on time. Of course it is dark at 4:40am. The sun comes out at 5:15am-ish, so I was equipped with headlamp and flashing tail light.
Starting out it was about 64 degrees F. The road was slight downhill for the 20 miles my knees took to stop griping at me. I didn't want to leave today. I would've liked a day to rest, but Safford is overcrowded with copper mine workers, and the room I was in was reserved. It would've been difficult to find another room, and with the record high of 105/106F in Safford expected, I wanted out to higher ground.
After slowly giving up elevation from the 2,900 feet at Safford, 20 miles out at 2,500 feet it started to turn upward. Maybe my knees just wanted some challenges because they stopped their griping and went to work after that.
Distractions for me included some beautiful scenery along the way and continued songs via my Ipod. I didn't take too many photos today because I knew the road was largely uphill (then down, then back up, then down, then way back up, etc) and my pace would slow into the hours of threatening heat.
I rode through an Apache Indian Reservation. Stopping to get some drinks and a sandwich at Peridot on US Highway 70, I had a poor experience at the only convenience store there. I bought a large soda from the fountain and filled the largest cup with ice almost to the top since I was interested in the ice not the soda. I also bought two waters to transfer to my water bottles on the bike thinking i would drink the soda and then use the ice in my bottles. After filling one water bottle, I ran out of ice, so I thought he will let me get more ice as long as I use the same fountain cup. After asking "Is it OK if I just grab some more ice in this cup?"..."You will have to pay for more ice", I was told. Wow. I think they are still bitter about the whole cowboys and Indians thing. I wasn't about to support that, so I went iceless in that bottle. (Note: I saw a pallet of Cobra malt liquor being wheeled into the store as I left. Make your own call on that one, but know that the shoulders of the highway had many broken beer bottles on them.)
That story is evidence there isn't much to say today. Finally, I came to Globe at elevation of 3,500 feet. Temperature when I arrived was 93 degrees F, and I immediately rewarded myself with Dairy Queen on the way to the Super (Duper) 8 motel.
I am proud of two back to back long distance rides without a rest day in a while. Yesterday's 78 miles was topped by today's 79 miles of cranking a 100 pound bike (with gear) up the hills. Tomorrow, I understand there is great scenery and bridges between Globe and Apache Junction (near Phoenix metro area), and after a little effort to get started uphill, it is a nice drop most of the way, including riding through a long tunnel blasted through a mountain. Lucky for me, the slope of the tunnel is in my favor from this direction, otherwise I have been told it is unsafe from the other way.
Pics will be added for these pages when I am in Phoenix for a few days. Planning to leave there Monday June 16 with my friend Mike arriving from San Diego to join in the last leg of the trip.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Lordsburg, NM to Safford, AZ (76 miles)
Monday June 9, 2008
I woke up early figuring I could get my stuff packed and either get into the continental breakfast early so I could start early or just have a little time to relax before a long riding day. Everything was set and I was about to load the bike, but first, I thought, I better check the tires like I have become accustomed to each morning.
I grabbed the bike pump and started for the front tire... FLAT! I looked at the back one and it wasn't. OK, a setback for time... one flat tire. I got the tire off, took the tube out, found the hole, retraced it to the tire and found a small wire (again) that had managed to get up in there. Patched, filled, and ready to go. I thought "I better check that back one, too". I found it to be 20-30 psi low and that wasn't a good sign last time in Houston when I wound up, later that day, changing the tube in a park after ridiculously just pumping it up that morning. OK, back tire off, tube out, found the hiole, retraced to the tire, another small wire.
Here is the lesson about Interstate travel by bicycle. The shoulder is dangerous. Not because of the cars going by on your left, but because of all the debris in the path ahead of you, including the thousands of small wires from the blown tire scraps laying all about. I actually said to myself yesterday when riding on I-10 and seeing all the tires which seemed an obstacle course at the time, "if I don't get a flat from this, I will be surprised". Well, I did. Two of them. So the flat count is up to 3 for the trip.
Out of Lorsdburg at 7:45am after scarfing down a less than spectacular contental breakfast at America's Best Value Inn. I was an hour behind whgat I had hoped for. With virtually no wind to battle for the first time in days, I made great time for the first 2 hours of flat riding. After 2 hours, I had made about 32 miles and crossed into Arizona. I had seen a Javelina (http://www.desertusa.com/magnov97/nov_pap/du_collpecc.html) along the way and he stopped on the side of the two lane road that is Highway 70 out in the middle of nowhere. Going for a better camera shot, I approached a bit closer, but stunned by the amount of luggage I am carrying, he ran off through a fence and out of view. So click the link. It is the best I can do.
At Duncan, Arizona, over an Orange Soda and a Snickers, I was told the road climbs beyond the "S-curve" ahead. Ooooh, the S-curve. How exciting.
They were right! Two miles out of town, the road began climbing. Working hard to get upo the hill, sweating and panting in heat that I would've been able to get ahead of without 2 flats in the motel room this morning, and eventually I reached 4,400 feet elevation at mile 48 of today's ride. After that, it was some sweet downhill cruising. I knew what the elevatiopn profile looked like for today's ride, so I knew the worst was over. I began taking photos and even some video while riding. It is some amazingly beautiful scenery in the Arizona desert, and riding it solo provided an overwhelming feeling of pride about what ground I have covered so far.
Almost 30 miles of downhill and flats, and I found myself passing through small towns of San Jose, Solomon, and then finally coming to Safford. Safford is the first town to offer lodging since Lordsburg, NM, and with the temps these days, camping is out of the question. It was 97F when I got off the bike. "How do you stand it?", my Dad proudly asked me yesterday on the phone during a post-ride debriefing. I thought about that question a while today. I think my answer is "I have no choice." After getting into today's motel (Days Inn) I got word of tomorrow's forecast: 106F for a high. So again, there is no reason to stay here. Hoping it gets cooler if I wait a day just doesn't work. Tomorrow I will try for an early pre-dawn start.
I woke up early figuring I could get my stuff packed and either get into the continental breakfast early so I could start early or just have a little time to relax before a long riding day. Everything was set and I was about to load the bike, but first, I thought, I better check the tires like I have become accustomed to each morning.
I grabbed the bike pump and started for the front tire... FLAT! I looked at the back one and it wasn't. OK, a setback for time... one flat tire. I got the tire off, took the tube out, found the hole, retraced it to the tire and found a small wire (again) that had managed to get up in there. Patched, filled, and ready to go. I thought "I better check that back one, too". I found it to be 20-30 psi low and that wasn't a good sign last time in Houston when I wound up, later that day, changing the tube in a park after ridiculously just pumping it up that morning. OK, back tire off, tube out, found the hiole, retraced to the tire, another small wire.
Here is the lesson about Interstate travel by bicycle. The shoulder is dangerous. Not because of the cars going by on your left, but because of all the debris in the path ahead of you, including the thousands of small wires from the blown tire scraps laying all about. I actually said to myself yesterday when riding on I-10 and seeing all the tires which seemed an obstacle course at the time, "if I don't get a flat from this, I will be surprised". Well, I did. Two of them. So the flat count is up to 3 for the trip.
Out of Lorsdburg at 7:45am after scarfing down a less than spectacular contental breakfast at America's Best Value Inn. I was an hour behind whgat I had hoped for. With virtually no wind to battle for the first time in days, I made great time for the first 2 hours of flat riding. After 2 hours, I had made about 32 miles and crossed into Arizona. I had seen a Javelina (http://www.desertusa.com/magnov97/nov_pap/du_collpecc.html) along the way and he stopped on the side of the two lane road that is Highway 70 out in the middle of nowhere. Going for a better camera shot, I approached a bit closer, but stunned by the amount of luggage I am carrying, he ran off through a fence and out of view. So click the link. It is the best I can do.
At Duncan, Arizona, over an Orange Soda and a Snickers, I was told the road climbs beyond the "S-curve" ahead. Ooooh, the S-curve. How exciting.
They were right! Two miles out of town, the road began climbing. Working hard to get upo the hill, sweating and panting in heat that I would've been able to get ahead of without 2 flats in the motel room this morning, and eventually I reached 4,400 feet elevation at mile 48 of today's ride. After that, it was some sweet downhill cruising. I knew what the elevatiopn profile looked like for today's ride, so I knew the worst was over. I began taking photos and even some video while riding. It is some amazingly beautiful scenery in the Arizona desert, and riding it solo provided an overwhelming feeling of pride about what ground I have covered so far.
Almost 30 miles of downhill and flats, and I found myself passing through small towns of San Jose, Solomon, and then finally coming to Safford. Safford is the first town to offer lodging since Lordsburg, NM, and with the temps these days, camping is out of the question. It was 97F when I got off the bike. "How do you stand it?", my Dad proudly asked me yesterday on the phone during a post-ride debriefing. I thought about that question a while today. I think my answer is "I have no choice." After getting into today's motel (Days Inn) I got word of tomorrow's forecast: 106F for a high. So again, there is no reason to stay here. Hoping it gets cooler if I wait a day just doesn't work. Tomorrow I will try for an early pre-dawn start.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Deming, NM to Lordsburg, NM (61 miles)
Sunday June 8, 2008
Remember Floyd Landis in the 2006 Tour de France??? He was making his way to the top of the leader chart until tanking badly only a couple days before the end. Most people counted him out. The following day was a miraculous ride. He blew everyone away that day and won the 2006 Tour de France. So miraculous it was nearly unbelievable, and lead to drug testing and eventual stripping him of the title months after the Tour was over. (NOTE: Floyd was framed. I could go on and on about how steroids work, how one must take them for a period of time to see any benefit, and how all previous tests were negative prior to a positive result from the French lab after yet another American won the Tour following retirement of Lance Armstrong.)
Anyway, I didn't win the Tour today, but it was a nice recovery from the near heat exhaustion finish I had yesterday. Instead of steroids I used Endurolytes, which helps to restore your body's electrolytes when working out in heat. Another 94 degree day today by the time I finished, so I was glad to have them (and this time use them).
The day began with a little continental breakfast talking with Cecilia, the desk lady at Day's Inn in Deming, NM. Cecilia told me about her son and how he may be moving to San Diego. At first supportive, then I learned more about her son. He is 17 and works in construction. He has a girlfriend and two kids with her. Wha??? Yep. Cecilia attributes it to "nothing to do in Deming". I think it is time to build a bowling alley or something. I then chose to reverse my supportive angle citing a couple friends who have moved from San Diego because it is difficult to get ahead there. I suggested she try to get her son to reconsider.
After a danish and cereal, I hit the road at 6:20am. It was cold, so I wore my arm warmers. Actually wore them all day as I rode 60 miles to Lordsburg. Interstate 10 is flat in this area, and stops only includes a Rest Area at mile 22 or so, the Continental Divide at mile 35, and then the finish.
Not alot to say today. This blog entry was more exciting than my ride today. Interstate travel is boring in a car and 10x as boring on a bike.
Many thanks to Pearl Jam, Art Brut, Son Volt, and the many others who made today tolerable. It was the first day I used my IPOD to listen to music. I knew I was saving it for something, and since I haven't seen too many dogs on Interstates, today was perfect for it.
ride stats later...
Remember Floyd Landis in the 2006 Tour de France??? He was making his way to the top of the leader chart until tanking badly only a couple days before the end. Most people counted him out. The following day was a miraculous ride. He blew everyone away that day and won the 2006 Tour de France. So miraculous it was nearly unbelievable, and lead to drug testing and eventual stripping him of the title months after the Tour was over. (NOTE: Floyd was framed. I could go on and on about how steroids work, how one must take them for a period of time to see any benefit, and how all previous tests were negative prior to a positive result from the French lab after yet another American won the Tour following retirement of Lance Armstrong.)
Anyway, I didn't win the Tour today, but it was a nice recovery from the near heat exhaustion finish I had yesterday. Instead of steroids I used Endurolytes, which helps to restore your body's electrolytes when working out in heat. Another 94 degree day today by the time I finished, so I was glad to have them (and this time use them).
The day began with a little continental breakfast talking with Cecilia, the desk lady at Day's Inn in Deming, NM. Cecilia told me about her son and how he may be moving to San Diego. At first supportive, then I learned more about her son. He is 17 and works in construction. He has a girlfriend and two kids with her. Wha??? Yep. Cecilia attributes it to "nothing to do in Deming". I think it is time to build a bowling alley or something. I then chose to reverse my supportive angle citing a couple friends who have moved from San Diego because it is difficult to get ahead there. I suggested she try to get her son to reconsider.
After a danish and cereal, I hit the road at 6:20am. It was cold, so I wore my arm warmers. Actually wore them all day as I rode 60 miles to Lordsburg. Interstate 10 is flat in this area, and stops only includes a Rest Area at mile 22 or so, the Continental Divide at mile 35, and then the finish.
Not alot to say today. This blog entry was more exciting than my ride today. Interstate travel is boring in a car and 10x as boring on a bike.
Many thanks to Pearl Jam, Art Brut, Son Volt, and the many others who made today tolerable. It was the first day I used my IPOD to listen to music. I knew I was saving it for something, and since I haven't seen too many dogs on Interstates, today was perfect for it.
ride stats later...
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Las Cruces, NM to Deming, NM (60 miles)
Saturday June 7, 2008
I woke up at 5am. I shouldn't have watched whatever mobvie that was on HBO last night. I turned it off before the end but it was already 11pm when I did that. Staying up "late" last night hurt me today, despite the fact 11pm in my pre-ride life was not late at all.
I got started riding at 6:45am after a good breakfast at the hotel. Taking Hwy 28 to Valley Road to US 70, I headed out of Las Cruces to I-10. On Hwy 70, the climb began. A girl on a bike got in front of me right before the climb. She was a ways ahead, but I could see my pace was equal to hers despite the fact she had no weight on her bike. But then I let her go. And go she did. I saw her later while I was on I-10 and she was returning to Las Cruces (presumably) on the airport frontage road to I-10. She yelled "Hey!" in an awakening way, yet supportive. I "Hey"-ed her back.
The ride was good through mile 40. I had ditched the extra 3L of water I had been carrying since Del Rio and the bike seemed more responsive today. After stopping at Aleka Flats and a cheesy gas station selling any trinkets (or "curios" as Holley in Comstock, TX would say) you might possibly imagine, I headed down Hwy 549 for the remaining 20 miles to Deming. But the winds and the temperature picked up. My pace was crippled to 6-9 mph by lack of sleep, and these other factors. The wind was from the west, directly in my face, at 13mph and gusting at 22mph.
Today was exhausting! I managed to get into the edge of Deming and found a car dealer. I parked the bike, walked inside, searched for a soda machine, and sat there in a stupor drinking Orange Fanta as well as bottled water as my body recovered. Bad day!
The 1.7 miles left to get to the Days Inn seemed difficult, but I rode slowly and steadily. My reward: a King size bed and an hour of not moving.
A little late lunch/early dinner followed by a Kmart (yep, can you believe they have one here?) run for drinks, and a blizzard at Dairy Queen and I am OK again. I will, no doubt, hit the sack early tonight. In fact, I'm signing off now.
Updates to other posts including photos are taking place when I have time, though it looks like Phoenix may be the time when some real solid updating takes place. Some new photos have been added and the "will add photos, please check back" has been removed from those posts. Enjoy.
Zzzzzzz
I woke up at 5am. I shouldn't have watched whatever mobvie that was on HBO last night. I turned it off before the end but it was already 11pm when I did that. Staying up "late" last night hurt me today, despite the fact 11pm in my pre-ride life was not late at all.
I got started riding at 6:45am after a good breakfast at the hotel. Taking Hwy 28 to Valley Road to US 70, I headed out of Las Cruces to I-10. On Hwy 70, the climb began. A girl on a bike got in front of me right before the climb. She was a ways ahead, but I could see my pace was equal to hers despite the fact she had no weight on her bike. But then I let her go. And go she did. I saw her later while I was on I-10 and she was returning to Las Cruces (presumably) on the airport frontage road to I-10. She yelled "Hey!" in an awakening way, yet supportive. I "Hey"-ed her back.
The ride was good through mile 40. I had ditched the extra 3L of water I had been carrying since Del Rio and the bike seemed more responsive today. After stopping at Aleka Flats and a cheesy gas station selling any trinkets (or "curios" as Holley in Comstock, TX would say) you might possibly imagine, I headed down Hwy 549 for the remaining 20 miles to Deming. But the winds and the temperature picked up. My pace was crippled to 6-9 mph by lack of sleep, and these other factors. The wind was from the west, directly in my face, at 13mph and gusting at 22mph.
Today was exhausting! I managed to get into the edge of Deming and found a car dealer. I parked the bike, walked inside, searched for a soda machine, and sat there in a stupor drinking Orange Fanta as well as bottled water as my body recovered. Bad day!
The 1.7 miles left to get to the Days Inn seemed difficult, but I rode slowly and steadily. My reward: a King size bed and an hour of not moving.
A little late lunch/early dinner followed by a Kmart (yep, can you believe they have one here?) run for drinks, and a blizzard at Dairy Queen and I am OK again. I will, no doubt, hit the sack early tonight. In fact, I'm signing off now.
Updates to other posts including photos are taking place when I have time, though it looks like Phoenix may be the time when some real solid updating takes place. Some new photos have been added and the "will add photos, please check back" has been removed from those posts. Enjoy.
Zzzzzzz
Friday, June 6, 2008
El Paso, TX to Las Cruces, NM (48 miles)
June 6, 2006
I woke at 5am with the intention to get pedaling by 6:30am. Again, morning activities take a while. You have to take advantage of the availability of a bathroom (more than once), pack the bags because you need stuff from them until time to go, prep breakfast (oatmeal, mmmm), do the bike check (tire air pressure, etc), then load the bike (and this takes some developed skills considering I am still lugging the 3L of extra water on the rear rack). Oh yeah, and then go use the bathroom again.
Getting out of El Paso wasn't much fun. Since yesterday was essentially a rest day, the hills on Mesa Street in El Paso were punishing. I knew it would be a flat ride from El Paso to Las Cruces, but within El Paso there are some hills. I am getting familiar with my smallest chainring up front rather than work my knees and legs harder than necessary in the second or third chainrings. Moving slowly but steadily up one hill in El Paso, I had a short exchange with a girl sitting at the bus stop. I said "slow mover, eh?" Her response: "Yep."
I found my way into New Mexico at 8am Mountain Time. (That's right: MOUNTAIN TIME. I am only one time zone away from being back drinking beers with my peeps in San Diego.) Following Hwy 28 to Las Cruces, there was a lot of agriculture along the way: flooded pecan orchards (I had no idea they do that), onion fields (never had I seen so many onions planted and I grew up on a produce farm), vineyards with tempting wine tastings, and a strange animal known as the alpaca (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alpaca). As I was staring at the alpaca, an El Paso couple, Don and Grace, on bikes rolled up to me. "Now answer the question you've answered for everyone else so far" Don said, "where did you start and where are you going?" I responded "Florida to California." "Ah, the Southern Tier" he said knowingly. Clearly I am back on the Adventure Cycling Association route for the day and so people are wise to the route. Tomorrow will be different as I dodge the mountains and instead head to Deming.
Following Hwy 28 with some foresight of what I would see thanks to Don. After the tiny town of San Miguel, pecan trees lined both sides of the road. Picturesque is all I could think at the time. Such a sight could only be complimented by... oh yeah, there it was, Stahmann's store specializing in pecan candies, ice cream, and coffee. A couple treats later, I got back on the road the remaining 8 miles, passing through a cute town of Mesilla with shops and vineyards, and made it to the south side Las Cruces. Some may call me a high roller, but I'm staying at the Comfort Suites tonight. I found a couple dumps like those that I have already stayed at, but for $66 (special discounted rate pro-charity Johnny gave me) including breakfast and access to a computer (no library hunt for me today) I couldn't pass it up. I had lunch at the Gadsden Purchase Grill & Saloon where most people polled could not identify the alpaca I had photographed earlier. Incidentally, the Gadsden Purchase was completed in 1854 and allowed the US to purchase for $10 million (equivalent to 10 gallons of gas today) the land from Mexico than now makes up the southern border from El Paso to California. I read. You read. We learn.
I went to St. Clair Winery & Bistro tonight down the road in Las Cruces. The charming Erin, bartender, set me up with a DH Descombes Syrah (her alltime favorite) while waiting for my Pasta Danielle. (Hi Erin.) More learnin': New Mexico is the oldest wine producing region in the country. And the St. Clair Winery is the largest winery in New Mexico. I may even stop at the one in Deming tomorrow since Erin gave me advance notice that I'm heading right for it.
A schvitz in the hottub tonight and an early start tomorrow is predicted.
start time: 6:47am
end time: 11:30am-ish
time on bike: 3:29:30
mileage: 45.35 miles
avg speed: 13.09 mph
max speed: 28.90 mph
calories: 3406
conditions: 75-85F, flat near 3,900 ft elevation once out of El Paso
I woke at 5am with the intention to get pedaling by 6:30am. Again, morning activities take a while. You have to take advantage of the availability of a bathroom (more than once), pack the bags because you need stuff from them until time to go, prep breakfast (oatmeal, mmmm), do the bike check (tire air pressure, etc), then load the bike (and this takes some developed skills considering I am still lugging the 3L of extra water on the rear rack). Oh yeah, and then go use the bathroom again.
Getting out of El Paso wasn't much fun. Since yesterday was essentially a rest day, the hills on Mesa Street in El Paso were punishing. I knew it would be a flat ride from El Paso to Las Cruces, but within El Paso there are some hills. I am getting familiar with my smallest chainring up front rather than work my knees and legs harder than necessary in the second or third chainrings. Moving slowly but steadily up one hill in El Paso, I had a short exchange with a girl sitting at the bus stop. I said "slow mover, eh?" Her response: "Yep."
I found my way into New Mexico at 8am Mountain Time. (That's right: MOUNTAIN TIME. I am only one time zone away from being back drinking beers with my peeps in San Diego.) Following Hwy 28 to Las Cruces, there was a lot of agriculture along the way: flooded pecan orchards (I had no idea they do that), onion fields (never had I seen so many onions planted and I grew up on a produce farm), vineyards with tempting wine tastings, and a strange animal known as the alpaca (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alpaca). As I was staring at the alpaca, an El Paso couple, Don and Grace, on bikes rolled up to me. "Now answer the question you've answered for everyone else so far" Don said, "where did you start and where are you going?" I responded "Florida to California." "Ah, the Southern Tier" he said knowingly. Clearly I am back on the Adventure Cycling Association route for the day and so people are wise to the route. Tomorrow will be different as I dodge the mountains and instead head to Deming.
Following Hwy 28 with some foresight of what I would see thanks to Don. After the tiny town of San Miguel, pecan trees lined both sides of the road. Picturesque is all I could think at the time. Such a sight could only be complimented by... oh yeah, there it was, Stahmann's store specializing in pecan candies, ice cream, and coffee. A couple treats later, I got back on the road the remaining 8 miles, passing through a cute town of Mesilla with shops and vineyards, and made it to the south side Las Cruces. Some may call me a high roller, but I'm staying at the Comfort Suites tonight. I found a couple dumps like those that I have already stayed at, but for $66 (special discounted rate pro-charity Johnny gave me) including breakfast and access to a computer (no library hunt for me today) I couldn't pass it up. I had lunch at the Gadsden Purchase Grill & Saloon where most people polled could not identify the alpaca I had photographed earlier. Incidentally, the Gadsden Purchase was completed in 1854 and allowed the US to purchase for $10 million (equivalent to 10 gallons of gas today) the land from Mexico than now makes up the southern border from El Paso to California. I read. You read. We learn.
I went to St. Clair Winery & Bistro tonight down the road in Las Cruces. The charming Erin, bartender, set me up with a DH Descombes Syrah (her alltime favorite) while waiting for my Pasta Danielle. (Hi Erin.) More learnin': New Mexico is the oldest wine producing region in the country. And the St. Clair Winery is the largest winery in New Mexico. I may even stop at the one in Deming tomorrow since Erin gave me advance notice that I'm heading right for it.
A schvitz in the hottub tonight and an early start tomorrow is predicted.
start time: 6:47am
end time: 11:30am-ish
time on bike: 3:29:30
mileage: 45.35 miles
avg speed: 13.09 mph
max speed: 28.90 mph
calories: 3406
conditions: 75-85F, flat near 3,900 ft elevation once out of El Paso
Marathon, TX Article: Biker Rides for Water in Africa
from the Marathon News Leader (Texas)
http://www.tcnewsleader.com/mnlnews.htm#biker
Biker rides for water
http://www.tcnewsleader.com/mnlnews.htm#biker
Biker rides for water
By R.M. GLOVER
MNL Editor
MARATHON -- On a good day Dan Altenburg can average 16 miles per hour but last Monday he slowed to 11 mph as he climbed the 1,300-foot elevation rise on the long stretch from Sanderson.
“I’m glad I left early,” Altenburg said, sipping a Tecate during lunch at the Oasis Bar and Restaurant.
He rides a disc-brake-fitted, stiff-leather saddled Giant OCR Touring bike, weighing in at 30 pounds.
Then add 60 pounds of gear and you can understand why his calves are the size of watermelons.
He left Saint Augustine, FL, almost two months ago.
“I’ll be in San Diego before you know it,” he said. His short-cut hair was graying but he didn’t look over 32.
He was sturdy built, not too tall and there was a certain alertness in his blue eyes.
Altenburg is raising money for a charity that drills water wells in Ethiopia and Uganda. For $5,000, he can buy one well.
“Mothers have to decide whether to give their babies a cup of dirty water or none at all.” Altenburg said. “Not an easy choice.”
Altenburg had been selling cell-phone circuitry for Tectronix.
“My boss was in the middle of giving me a raise when I told him I can’t do it anymore,” he said. “I knew what they expected from me and I wasn’t prepared to give ’em 100 percent. So instead of a raise I gave them my resignation.”
He went to Alaska and got involved in the Iditorod dog-sled race, becoming “by chance” the lead dog trainer for the first sled out of Anchorage on race day.
“There must have been 100 film crews out that day from all over the world and there I was leading the lead sled to the starting line,” Altenburg said.
He has one of those TV happy determined faces.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Updated Route through New Mexico and into Phoenix
Friday June 6
El Paso to Las Cruces: -200' and 55 miles TX Hwy 20 and NM Hwy 28
Saturday June 7
Las Cruces to Deming: +350' and 60 miles along I-10 and frontage roads
Sunday June 8
Deming to Lordsburg: -100' and 58 miles along I-10 and frontage roads
Monday June 9
Lordsburg Up US Hwy 70 to Safford: from 4,157 down to 3,000 ft elevation but with what in between? 73 miles of uncertain elevations on US Hwy 70
Tuesday June 10
Safford to Globe: +500' gain by end of day but a few spike hills and 79 miles on US Hwy 70
Wednesday June 11
Globe to Mesa, AZ: -3,400' but climb 2 passes first, 61-71 miles on Hwy 60 into Apache Junction, then University to Adobe Road to 8th Street
projected arrival to Phoenix: June 11 or 12 (if I need a rest day or winds become an issue and Ramon isn't driving by)
projected arrival into San Diego around June 25th (yep, it's getting within forecast reach)
El Paso to Las Cruces: -200' and 55 miles TX Hwy 20 and NM Hwy 28
Saturday June 7
Las Cruces to Deming: +350' and 60 miles along I-10 and frontage roads
Sunday June 8
Deming to Lordsburg: -100' and 58 miles along I-10 and frontage roads
Monday June 9
Lordsburg Up US Hwy 70 to Safford: from 4,157 down to 3,000 ft elevation but with what in between? 73 miles of uncertain elevations on US Hwy 70
Tuesday June 10
Safford to Globe: +500' gain by end of day but a few spike hills and 79 miles on US Hwy 70
Wednesday June 11
Globe to Mesa, AZ: -3,400' but climb 2 passes first, 61-71 miles on Hwy 60 into Apache Junction, then University to Adobe Road to 8th Street
projected arrival to Phoenix: June 11 or 12 (if I need a rest day or winds become an issue and Ramon isn't driving by)
projected arrival into San Diego around June 25th (yep, it's getting within forecast reach)
Marfa, TX to El Paso, TX (8 miles)
Thursday June 5, 2008
OK, it is not 8 miles from Marfa to El Paso! Here is the story...
I knew from the forecast that ridiculous winds were forecasted for the area. I was seeing 30mph winds coming from the NW projected. I was heading NW, as luck would have it.
But luck be a lady...
Maybe not a lady. The guy's name was Ramon Hinojos from Alpine, TX.
I was up at 4am. After a hearty oatmeal breakfast with Mike O'Connor, my accomodating host in Marfa, I left for Van Horn with his suggestion "go like hell until the town of Valentine". The wind was pretty light this early in the morning. The sky was completely black except for starlight. Equipped with my flashing strobe headlamp and flashing red tailight, I was cruising up the slight inclines of Hwy 90 toward Valentine. Already seeing mule deer and antelope, only 3 cars had passed me each likely puzzled by the flashing lights atop my head and bike until they were right up next to me. Ramon was so puzzled that he passed me heading west, then slowed down to take another look. He put it in reverse and I pulled up next to the truck.
"You having trouble", he asked?
"Nope, just biking" I said.
"Oh, you're pedaling. I wasn't sure. Those flashing lights got my attention, but I wasn't sure what you were." Ramon stated.
"Just pedaling man. I hear the winds are supposed to be crazy so I need to get as far as I can before they pick up. I better go." I said.
"Well, you want to just put the bike in the back?" he asked.
I hesitated. I had planned this route carefully. And I was up predawn, pretwilight, to get a jump on Mariah. But given the following I decided it was too good an offer to pass up...
1. It was 74 miles to the next "service" (place to get a drink, food, rest, help).
2. My front deraileur was making noises yesterday and I thought I had fixed it, but in the dark I wasn't testing it too much waiting for dawn instead. What if my fix didn't take?
3. During routine tire pressure testing this morning, the tip of the valve on the rear tube broke off when I was done pumping it up a bit. That meant that I could not close the valve, nor add air should I need to. Riding with that much weight on the bike without closing the valve seemed like it might cause air to escape. The next time I needed to adjust air pressure in the rear tire, the tube would need replacing. Not something I wanted to do in the dark.
4. Winds were projected at 30 mph from the NW. That would be brutal!
5. I didn't ask for a ride. He offered it.
I loaded the bike in the back and got in the truck. I told him I was going to Van Horn. He said he was going to El Paso which went right through Van Horn. As Van Horn approached, I was preparing to get out, but conversation with Ramon was good and I could tell he liked the company. He told me tales of growing up in Terlingua in Big Bend area, home of the first chili cookoff he said, and being one of 9 kids in his family. He continued on with stories from his younger days when he gauged distances to nearby towns based on consumed beers : "How far to Fort Davis?" "Oh, a 6 pack or so, but to get to Carlsbad, NM takes a case at least."
Turns out he is a 58-year old disabled vet having served in the Army in 1969 and 1970. With plans to be sent to Vietnam following his being stationed in Germany, he got in a car wreck. He now walks with a cane, and takes trips to Veterans Hospitals at great distances for other ailments. He goes to El Paso 4 or 5 times amonth for tests related to cirrhosis of the liver, which he tells me is terminal in his case. He offered to follow the bike route I intended to pedal, and with winds becoming obvious, I was not sure how I could refuse given the fact these winds could continue for days as far as I knew.
As this self-proclaimed "instigator" drove with his little 6-month old poodle hiding beneath a cooler of drinks and sandwiches in the back seat of his 2005 quad cab Chevy truck, we saw the fires in the Davis Mountains, a peculiar DEA blimp anchored to it's docking station on the south side of the highway, and we stopped at a Prada Marfa store that is nothing more than art, with a front door that does not open and will never be open for business. Following that, it was simply pecan tree orchards, some cotton farms, and a lot of what I was glad not to have passed on bike given the reward vs effort ratio today.
It would have taken me three days to get as far as he had taken me in a matter of a few hours. Appreciative, I arranged to buy him lunch after his doctor appointment. I had checked into a hostel for $20/night and would look over my intended route for the next few days since my schedule had just jumped ahead.
Following lunch with Ramon, I turned down his offer to take me further betting the winds would let up, and knowing I was in a cheap place should I need to wait it out a bit. I was glad to meet ramon and have promised to send him copies of the pictures I took on the road today.
I just checked the winds in Van Horn to see if I made the right choice today. 52 mph from the NW. I may have died today had I biked it. Thanks Ramon!
This afternoon, I took my bike to Crazy Cat cyclery and had the front deraileur adjusted and got as new tube installed, so the bike is raring to go again tomorrow. As raring as 110 pounds can be, that is.
start time: 5:30am
end time: 6:00am
total time on bike: 30 mins
mileage: 8 miles
avg speed: 13.12 mph
max speed:
calories: 870 cals
conditions: dark, cold (45F in desert low areas), relatively flat, wind not blowing yet
OK, it is not 8 miles from Marfa to El Paso! Here is the story...
I knew from the forecast that ridiculous winds were forecasted for the area. I was seeing 30mph winds coming from the NW projected. I was heading NW, as luck would have it.
But luck be a lady...
Maybe not a lady. The guy's name was Ramon Hinojos from Alpine, TX.
I was up at 4am. After a hearty oatmeal breakfast with Mike O'Connor, my accomodating host in Marfa, I left for Van Horn with his suggestion "go like hell until the town of Valentine". The wind was pretty light this early in the morning. The sky was completely black except for starlight. Equipped with my flashing strobe headlamp and flashing red tailight, I was cruising up the slight inclines of Hwy 90 toward Valentine. Already seeing mule deer and antelope, only 3 cars had passed me each likely puzzled by the flashing lights atop my head and bike until they were right up next to me. Ramon was so puzzled that he passed me heading west, then slowed down to take another look. He put it in reverse and I pulled up next to the truck.
"You having trouble", he asked?
"Nope, just biking" I said.
"Oh, you're pedaling. I wasn't sure. Those flashing lights got my attention, but I wasn't sure what you were." Ramon stated.
"Just pedaling man. I hear the winds are supposed to be crazy so I need to get as far as I can before they pick up. I better go." I said.
"Well, you want to just put the bike in the back?" he asked.
I hesitated. I had planned this route carefully. And I was up predawn, pretwilight, to get a jump on Mariah. But given the following I decided it was too good an offer to pass up...
1. It was 74 miles to the next "service" (place to get a drink, food, rest, help).
2. My front deraileur was making noises yesterday and I thought I had fixed it, but in the dark I wasn't testing it too much waiting for dawn instead. What if my fix didn't take?
3. During routine tire pressure testing this morning, the tip of the valve on the rear tube broke off when I was done pumping it up a bit. That meant that I could not close the valve, nor add air should I need to. Riding with that much weight on the bike without closing the valve seemed like it might cause air to escape. The next time I needed to adjust air pressure in the rear tire, the tube would need replacing. Not something I wanted to do in the dark.
4. Winds were projected at 30 mph from the NW. That would be brutal!
5. I didn't ask for a ride. He offered it.
I loaded the bike in the back and got in the truck. I told him I was going to Van Horn. He said he was going to El Paso which went right through Van Horn. As Van Horn approached, I was preparing to get out, but conversation with Ramon was good and I could tell he liked the company. He told me tales of growing up in Terlingua in Big Bend area, home of the first chili cookoff he said, and being one of 9 kids in his family. He continued on with stories from his younger days when he gauged distances to nearby towns based on consumed beers : "How far to Fort Davis?" "Oh, a 6 pack or so, but to get to Carlsbad, NM takes a case at least."
Turns out he is a 58-year old disabled vet having served in the Army in 1969 and 1970. With plans to be sent to Vietnam following his being stationed in Germany, he got in a car wreck. He now walks with a cane, and takes trips to Veterans Hospitals at great distances for other ailments. He goes to El Paso 4 or 5 times amonth for tests related to cirrhosis of the liver, which he tells me is terminal in his case. He offered to follow the bike route I intended to pedal, and with winds becoming obvious, I was not sure how I could refuse given the fact these winds could continue for days as far as I knew.
As this self-proclaimed "instigator" drove with his little 6-month old poodle hiding beneath a cooler of drinks and sandwiches in the back seat of his 2005 quad cab Chevy truck, we saw the fires in the Davis Mountains, a peculiar DEA blimp anchored to it's docking station on the south side of the highway, and we stopped at a Prada Marfa store that is nothing more than art, with a front door that does not open and will never be open for business. Following that, it was simply pecan tree orchards, some cotton farms, and a lot of what I was glad not to have passed on bike given the reward vs effort ratio today.
It would have taken me three days to get as far as he had taken me in a matter of a few hours. Appreciative, I arranged to buy him lunch after his doctor appointment. I had checked into a hostel for $20/night and would look over my intended route for the next few days since my schedule had just jumped ahead.
Following lunch with Ramon, I turned down his offer to take me further betting the winds would let up, and knowing I was in a cheap place should I need to wait it out a bit. I was glad to meet ramon and have promised to send him copies of the pictures I took on the road today.
I just checked the winds in Van Horn to see if I made the right choice today. 52 mph from the NW. I may have died today had I biked it. Thanks Ramon!
This afternoon, I took my bike to Crazy Cat cyclery and had the front deraileur adjusted and got as new tube installed, so the bike is raring to go again tomorrow. As raring as 110 pounds can be, that is.
start time: 5:30am
end time: 6:00am
total time on bike: 30 mins
mileage: 8 miles
avg speed: 13.12 mph
max speed:
calories: 870 cals
conditions: dark, cold (45F in desert low areas), relatively flat, wind not blowing yet
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Alpine to Marfa, TX (26 miles)
Wednesday June 4, 2008
Short day again but cool little Far West Texas towns (Trans Pecos towns, as they say).
Topics today:
Where the deer & the antelope play
Flat Tire, not mine... a PT Cruiser, and, of course, I stopped to help.
Marfa Highlights: Marfa Lights, Presidio County Courthouse, Hotel Paisano.
Where there is smoke there is fire: A fire threatens the Fort Davis mountains. I am staying on Hwy 90 to go around them.
Short day again but cool little Far West Texas towns (Trans Pecos towns, as they say).
Topics today:
Where the deer & the antelope play
Flat Tire, not mine... a PT Cruiser, and, of course, I stopped to help.
Marfa Highlights: Marfa Lights, Presidio County Courthouse, Hotel Paisano.
Where there is smoke there is fire: A fire threatens the Fort Davis mountains. I am staying on Hwy 90 to go around them.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Newspaper Article in my hometown paper
http://www.wisconsinrapidstribune.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2008806010316
Former Rapids resident bikes for water
_______________________________________
Dan Altenburg, 36, is on the adventure of a lifetime, and he is doing it for charity.
Altenburg, formerly of Wisconsin Rapids, is on a 2,300 mile-plus bicycle trip from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean, and he hopes to raise $23,780 doing it.
"All of that money will go toward providing water for people in Uganda, Africa," he said.
He dipped his back tire in the Atlantic Ocean at St. Augustine, Fla., on April 25 and spent the Memorial Day weekend in Texas with friends. He hopes to reach San Diego by the Fourth of July.
"Most people bike west to east, but I wanted to end up in my adopted home town of San Diego," he said.
"I'm not into charities, but this one is different," Altenburg said. "There are some interesting parallels between this organization and who I am."
He has degrees in geology with a focus on groundwater.
"A single well will provide water for 400 people for 20 years," Altenburg said. "If I can raise $23,780, that's $10 a mile, that would be enough money to bring clean water to 2,500 people."
All of the money he raises will go toward the construction of four clean water systems in Uganda.
"In Uganda, 60 percent of the population lives without access to clean drinking water. The life expectancy there is 43 years," Altenburg said.
He has been traveling the back roads of America on a route provided by Adventure Cycling Association. He stays at campgrounds, motels and with friends along the way.
"I picked the southern route because I have several friends along that route," he said. "My biggest challenge is doing it alone. I'm a social person and it would be nice to be able to ride with someone."
Altenburg has traveled 1,060, about one third of the way, and his only problem has been a flat tire. He started out traveling 50 miles a day, and then upped it to 70 miles a day. Recently, he was slowed by the heat and hills of east Texas. He carries 50 pounds of gear on his bike.
He talks by phone to his parents here and his girlfriend in San Diego daily.
"Many of the friends I stay with along the way call to check on my progress," he said. Friends and family members keep also track of his travels on his Web site www.charitywater.org/getinvolved/promos/dan_altenburg.
"People I meet ask how I trained for this, but I didn't do much training," he said. "I'm an average Joe. I like to stay up late and I eat fried foods."
Altenburg is the youngest of Harold and Jean Altenburg's four children. He is a 1989 graduate of Assumption High School. He graduated from St. Norbert College, De Pere, in 1993 with a degree in geology, and earned a master's degree in geology from the University of Alabama. He worked in his field for four years. Most recently, he worked in sales for a technology company for more than six years.
One friend will meet him in Arizona and ride with him; others will meet him closer to San Diego.
So far he has raised $2,000 and realizes he needs to get the word out for more contributions.
"People hear about it by word of mouth," he said.
Anyone who would like to make a contribution may do so at Charity Water, 150 Varick St. 5th Floor, NY NY 10013, making a note on the memo line that it should go to the Dan Altenburg fund.
Nancy Quick is a correspondent and former lifestyle editor for the Daily Tribune.
Former Rapids resident bikes for water
_______________________________________
Dan Altenburg, 36, is on the adventure of a lifetime, and he is doing it for charity.
Altenburg, formerly of Wisconsin Rapids, is on a 2,300 mile-plus bicycle trip from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean, and he hopes to raise $23,780 doing it.
"All of that money will go toward providing water for people in Uganda, Africa," he said.
He dipped his back tire in the Atlantic Ocean at St. Augustine, Fla., on April 25 and spent the Memorial Day weekend in Texas with friends. He hopes to reach San Diego by the Fourth of July.
"Most people bike west to east, but I wanted to end up in my adopted home town of San Diego," he said.
"I'm not into charities, but this one is different," Altenburg said. "There are some interesting parallels between this organization and who I am."
He has degrees in geology with a focus on groundwater.
"A single well will provide water for 400 people for 20 years," Altenburg said. "If I can raise $23,780, that's $10 a mile, that would be enough money to bring clean water to 2,500 people."
All of the money he raises will go toward the construction of four clean water systems in Uganda.
"In Uganda, 60 percent of the population lives without access to clean drinking water. The life expectancy there is 43 years," Altenburg said.
He has been traveling the back roads of America on a route provided by Adventure Cycling Association. He stays at campgrounds, motels and with friends along the way.
"I picked the southern route because I have several friends along that route," he said. "My biggest challenge is doing it alone. I'm a social person and it would be nice to be able to ride with someone."
Altenburg has traveled 1,060, about one third of the way, and his only problem has been a flat tire. He started out traveling 50 miles a day, and then upped it to 70 miles a day. Recently, he was slowed by the heat and hills of east Texas. He carries 50 pounds of gear on his bike.
He talks by phone to his parents here and his girlfriend in San Diego daily.
"Many of the friends I stay with along the way call to check on my progress," he said. Friends and family members keep also track of his travels on his Web site www.charitywater.org/getinvolved/promos/dan_altenburg.
"People I meet ask how I trained for this, but I didn't do much training," he said. "I'm an average Joe. I like to stay up late and I eat fried foods."
Altenburg is the youngest of Harold and Jean Altenburg's four children. He is a 1989 graduate of Assumption High School. He graduated from St. Norbert College, De Pere, in 1993 with a degree in geology, and earned a master's degree in geology from the University of Alabama. He worked in his field for four years. Most recently, he worked in sales for a technology company for more than six years.
One friend will meet him in Arizona and ride with him; others will meet him closer to San Diego.
So far he has raised $2,000 and realizes he needs to get the word out for more contributions.
"People hear about it by word of mouth," he said.
Anyone who would like to make a contribution may do so at Charity Water, 150 Varick St. 5th Floor, NY NY 10013, making a note on the memo line that it should go to the Dan Altenburg fund.
Nancy Quick is a correspondent and former lifestyle editor for the Daily Tribune.
Marathon, TX to Alpine, TX (32 miles)
Tuesday June 3, 2008
4 Trains
John the Bikeman
Liz Rogers, my generous host
4 Trains
John the Bikeman
Liz Rogers, my generous host
Sanderson, TX to Marathon, TX (53 miles)
Monday, June 2, 2008
I got started early again.. Yep, headlamp worn and flashing. It wasn't as early as I hoped, but there is a lot to do in the morning. Even being in a house last night instead of a tent, where I don't have to break down camp, time still seems to go fast as I pack my bags, etc.
The firtst 32 miles of today's route along Hwy 90 was a nice easy gradual climb. I gained 1,400 feet in 32 miles. Clearly that is not steep, and made for what could've been the most peaceful ride of the trip so far. No dogs, just the mountains of west Texas and some wildlife. After a while though, you look for progress, some sign you are getting there. All I had to work with was the County Line. I knew that at the Pecos/Brewster County line I 23 miles behind me and 32 to go. Brewster County greeted me with nice new asphalt vs some rough stuff that covers a good share of the roads here.
I laugh when I ride sometimes. In the openness, surrounded only by west Texas mountains, and often not seeing a car for miles, I laugh that I am really doing this. Of course, sometimes the laugh changes to dread when I am ready for the day to be over and it isn't, but that's the way it goes. Today to break up the ride, I stopped in at a picnic area again. Who uses these things out here? "Got any plans for Saturday? No?! I got it. Lets drive 300 miles. I know this nice picnic area of Hwy 90."
As I was riding along Hwy 90, to my left I saw a roadcut that revealed the vertical tilting rocks here. A sign close by told the story that these rocks are of the Ouchita Belt, of the same approximate age as the Appalacians, 275 to 290 million years old. Geology still fascinates me. I'd like to pick up a cool rock now and then and bring it with me, but the weight would kill me.
More topics later...
Linda Speares, the Oasis Cafe, Mark the reporter, and Paper-crete houses
The Historic Gage Hotel
I got started early again.. Yep, headlamp worn and flashing. It wasn't as early as I hoped, but there is a lot to do in the morning. Even being in a house last night instead of a tent, where I don't have to break down camp, time still seems to go fast as I pack my bags, etc.
The firtst 32 miles of today's route along Hwy 90 was a nice easy gradual climb. I gained 1,400 feet in 32 miles. Clearly that is not steep, and made for what could've been the most peaceful ride of the trip so far. No dogs, just the mountains of west Texas and some wildlife. After a while though, you look for progress, some sign you are getting there. All I had to work with was the County Line. I knew that at the Pecos/Brewster County line I 23 miles behind me and 32 to go. Brewster County greeted me with nice new asphalt vs some rough stuff that covers a good share of the roads here.
I laugh when I ride sometimes. In the openness, surrounded only by west Texas mountains, and often not seeing a car for miles, I laugh that I am really doing this. Of course, sometimes the laugh changes to dread when I am ready for the day to be over and it isn't, but that's the way it goes. Today to break up the ride, I stopped in at a picnic area again. Who uses these things out here? "Got any plans for Saturday? No?! I got it. Lets drive 300 miles. I know this nice picnic area of Hwy 90."
As I was riding along Hwy 90, to my left I saw a roadcut that revealed the vertical tilting rocks here. A sign close by told the story that these rocks are of the Ouchita Belt, of the same approximate age as the Appalacians, 275 to 290 million years old. Geology still fascinates me. I'd like to pick up a cool rock now and then and bring it with me, but the weight would kill me.
More topics later...
Linda Speares, the Oasis Cafe, Mark the reporter, and Paper-crete houses
The Historic Gage Hotel
Rest Day in Sanderson, TX
Sunday June 1, 2008
I didn't do much today. I DID notice my mood was greatly improved waking up and knowing I could stay put. These rest days are so useful! Not just resting the body but my mind, too.
The house I am staying in is a cute cottage style place, and has no TV. But it is great. Without TV, I am listening to my IPOD music on the IPOD stereo furnished here, and I am planning my route. Right now, if my plans stays intact, I should arrive into Phoenix June 15th. It feels good to have more than the route to El Paso planned, especially when, once again, I will be going off the ACA route.
So, I heard from Sally who was talking to Jessie who is Billy Sue's cousin, that Dairy King (not Queen) would be open today. Finding places open on Sundays is difficult out here, so I was excited. I was told Dairy King opens at 2pm on Sunday. After more than a few crossings of Sanderson Canyon on my bike to check, I found the real deal is that they are open from 11:30am until 2pm, and then 5pm to 8:30pm. These are the King's hours by which you must abide.
A cute little place, nothing special, but an OK burger, onion rings, and vanilla malt. The King had pictures of all his family members taped to the wall and window by the cash register. A Mexican family, so the window was nearly covered.
When I was out looking for open businesses, I met a man at the market. "We never know when SHE is going to be open. She has odd hours" people have said about the lady at the Market. I get the feeling she isn't well liked. But as I sit on a bench outside the store in 100 degree heat drinking my cold orange Crush, a short 50-ish mexican man says hello. The usual exchange about weather took place, and as his english broke down, we replaced the english words with spanish. It reminded me of my nephews in Mexico City creating a language all their own as they learned both English and Spanish. In any case, the man talked to me about my ride, and then told me that he plans to do something similar soon. He explained "you see, I was sick with a bad back. I told God that if he fixed my back, I would walk 120 miles" (to some area attraction I forgot). "He fixed my back, so now I gotta walk" he said. HE further explained he plans to have a support vehicle behind him so he can get a drink, etc. and that he will choose a cooler time to fulfill his promise. I hope he doesn't hurt his back with all that walking.
I didn't do much today. I DID notice my mood was greatly improved waking up and knowing I could stay put. These rest days are so useful! Not just resting the body but my mind, too.
The house I am staying in is a cute cottage style place, and has no TV. But it is great. Without TV, I am listening to my IPOD music on the IPOD stereo furnished here, and I am planning my route. Right now, if my plans stays intact, I should arrive into Phoenix June 15th. It feels good to have more than the route to El Paso planned, especially when, once again, I will be going off the ACA route.
So, I heard from Sally who was talking to Jessie who is Billy Sue's cousin, that Dairy King (not Queen) would be open today. Finding places open on Sundays is difficult out here, so I was excited. I was told Dairy King opens at 2pm on Sunday. After more than a few crossings of Sanderson Canyon on my bike to check, I found the real deal is that they are open from 11:30am until 2pm, and then 5pm to 8:30pm. These are the King's hours by which you must abide.
A cute little place, nothing special, but an OK burger, onion rings, and vanilla malt. The King had pictures of all his family members taped to the wall and window by the cash register. A Mexican family, so the window was nearly covered.
When I was out looking for open businesses, I met a man at the market. "We never know when SHE is going to be open. She has odd hours" people have said about the lady at the Market. I get the feeling she isn't well liked. But as I sit on a bench outside the store in 100 degree heat drinking my cold orange Crush, a short 50-ish mexican man says hello. The usual exchange about weather took place, and as his english broke down, we replaced the english words with spanish. It reminded me of my nephews in Mexico City creating a language all their own as they learned both English and Spanish. In any case, the man talked to me about my ride, and then told me that he plans to do something similar soon. He explained "you see, I was sick with a bad back. I told God that if he fixed my back, I would walk 120 miles" (to some area attraction I forgot). "He fixed my back, so now I gotta walk" he said. HE further explained he plans to have a support vehicle behind him so he can get a drink, etc. and that he will choose a cooler time to fulfill his promise. I hope he doesn't hurt his back with all that walking.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Langtry, TX to Sanderson, TX (60 miles)
Saturday May 31, 2008
4:30am I woke up again. Not even close to daylight, but dawn could not wait. I emerged in the dark, broke down camp, repacked my bags (with this much gear, everything has it's place and if it isn't put in it's place, the bags won't close), and left town with a flashing headlamp on my helmet and a red tail light on my bike.
Before leaving, the Immodium I took was wearing off. Not willing to go into the brush, where yesterday when inquring about "restrooms" I was warned there may be snakes, I found a unfortunately more noticeable place behind the Community Center that would enable me to "have some back support". Immodium must do some strange stuff to the human body to enable such a shutoff valve. What happened next happened with such pressure it may have exceeded yesterdays wind speed. Normally concerned about how I leave a campsite, I had no concerns this time.
Biking away in the dark was interesting: Deer jumping over nearby fences, sounds that cannot be identified, etc. One car on Hwy 90 even pulled over to wait for me to approach not sure what they were seeing from a distance given my flashing headlamp. I should've taken the opportunity to swerve all across the road and maybe take my glowing headlamp and throw it to simulate a UFO or something that would give them something to tell Mary Ann and Joan the next day over a burger.
It wasn't long before twilight: 6:15am. I passed the turnoff for Pumpville. So many of these towns have their history rooted int he railroad. Every 30 miles or so there was a water station to provide water for the steam locomotives. People on the train wanted to get off while the trains were refilling with water, and there were employees needed for the water refilling, thus a town was born. Pumpville's fate was worse than Langtry's. After steam went by the wayside, the trains went right on by. All that remains of Pumpville is a church.
I wasn't interested in the turnoff to Pumpville. I had enough hills and canyons that challenged me this morning, just like yesterday. There would be no extra spurs to my route today. An upcoming town named Dryden was an unknown to me. I had inquired with people what might be there since it was the only thing between Langtry and Sanderson. Some folks said nothing was there at all, but one person told me there was a store. I was hoping the one person was right.
Due to the early start today, at 9:30am I had made the 40 miles from Langtry to Dryden. Lo and behold, a store was not only there but OPEN! Pleased, I rolled up and while parking the bike, met the mailman who delivers mail from Del Rio to Sanderson. That is a 120 mile route.
Walking inside, the man who owns the store was sitting at the table talking with a local named Charlie Sikes. Charlie is kind of a local. He and his wife live in Houston, but they "bought a place here". Where that place was, I have no idea as this was the only place I saw for 40 miles. Charlie's wife talked me into having breakfast since you can order just about anything you want. The dining style here is... if you're thirsty, get up and go get yourself a drink from the refrigerated cases, if you're hungry, get up and get yourself something to eat, and before you leave, tell us what you had and pay for it. After talking with Charlie and the owner about my trip, being asked "Why are you doing this?" by Charlie and having the owner man respond "because it's there" (which is kinda right), Charlie said "it never bothered me none that it was there" and we all started laughing, on my part, maybe due to lack of sleep. Charlie and his wife had first come to the store to get 4 bags of feed for the deer, but with how Charlie was set in that chair when I walked in, there seemed to be no rush. As I was leaving, he and the others had gathered around the bags of feed, but were all just leaning on it, talking. It may have been a Dryden Community Meeting taking place as I think all residents were present.
Back on the road at 10:30am, the next 20 miles were brutal. The hills and canyons were up and down throughout, and given the lack of sleep, I wasn't sure if I would make it. The owner of the store at Dryden had said "oh yeah, right before Sanderson, you will cross that last big hill. If you can make it up that, you will feel like Superman and coast for the next few miles into town with your chest inflated." Each big hill I came to, I thought "Is this the one?" only to find another one behind it. 3 miles from Sanderson, I saw a picnic shelter. Not much to it, no restrooms or water, but a table shielded from the sun. I rode up to it, dismounted the bike in a clumsy way I am sure, and layed on the table. A trucker was parked nearby, but it wasn't long after my arrival that he left. "On my own now" I thought, as if he would come over and say "hey, let me take you into town". After a 10 minute cooling period just short of the "I'm never leaving" stage, I started pedaling again. I never saw another hill like those I had seen before, and I never coasted into town. The owner in Dryden was wrong. He must've been thinking of another road, though I don't think there is another one out here.
Renewed by my arrival at my destination town, I went to the Shamrock gas station where I met Phyllis over a cold Coke. This was Phyllis' last day working here before retirement. On the inside walls of the station, there were the pieces of art that were once a coloring contest. "That was from 15 years ago" Phyllis said. "We tear them off and give it to them when they graduate from highschool." Cute.
Before I left to go settle in at the guesthouse of Alpine-resident Liz Rogers, a little Mexican grandma was being lead to the front door of the Shamrock station. I opened the door for her and said "Come in where it is cool." She hesitated and responded "No ingles." So I said it in spanish. She commented "Hace calor... mucho calor" and seemed pleased with our simple exchange.
After cleaning up and settling in at the house, I went to the Public Library in this town of 861 residents. Arriving in the open hour window of 2pm-5pm, I did a quick preliminary update of my blog, before searching for a restaurant for dinner. The only place I could find was a bar that was open. Confirming they served pizza, I ordered one from the same woman I saw in the library. Her name was Bonnie and she likely beat me in here only by a few minutes to start her bartending shift. Unique place as the bottled beer is stored in ice coolers like you might bring to a tailgate party. It was all good by me. I had a beer, ate my pizza, and went home to collapse.
start time: 5:48am
end time: 12:30pm, maybe later. Was just glad to be done.
time on bike: 4:44:55
mileage: 59.86 miles
avg speed: 12.60 mph
max spped: 38.60 mph. I wonder if my brakes work?
calories: 4,502
conditions: Hot. 99F. I wasn't sure I could pull off the final 3 miles, but I did.
End elevation: 2,793 ft but I had to climb to that many times. I hate canyons.
4:30am I woke up again. Not even close to daylight, but dawn could not wait. I emerged in the dark, broke down camp, repacked my bags (with this much gear, everything has it's place and if it isn't put in it's place, the bags won't close), and left town with a flashing headlamp on my helmet and a red tail light on my bike.
Before leaving, the Immodium I took was wearing off. Not willing to go into the brush, where yesterday when inquring about "restrooms" I was warned there may be snakes, I found a unfortunately more noticeable place behind the Community Center that would enable me to "have some back support". Immodium must do some strange stuff to the human body to enable such a shutoff valve. What happened next happened with such pressure it may have exceeded yesterdays wind speed. Normally concerned about how I leave a campsite, I had no concerns this time.
Biking away in the dark was interesting: Deer jumping over nearby fences, sounds that cannot be identified, etc. One car on Hwy 90 even pulled over to wait for me to approach not sure what they were seeing from a distance given my flashing headlamp. I should've taken the opportunity to swerve all across the road and maybe take my glowing headlamp and throw it to simulate a UFO or something that would give them something to tell Mary Ann and Joan the next day over a burger.
It wasn't long before twilight: 6:15am. I passed the turnoff for Pumpville. So many of these towns have their history rooted int he railroad. Every 30 miles or so there was a water station to provide water for the steam locomotives. People on the train wanted to get off while the trains were refilling with water, and there were employees needed for the water refilling, thus a town was born. Pumpville's fate was worse than Langtry's. After steam went by the wayside, the trains went right on by. All that remains of Pumpville is a church.
I wasn't interested in the turnoff to Pumpville. I had enough hills and canyons that challenged me this morning, just like yesterday. There would be no extra spurs to my route today. An upcoming town named Dryden was an unknown to me. I had inquired with people what might be there since it was the only thing between Langtry and Sanderson. Some folks said nothing was there at all, but one person told me there was a store. I was hoping the one person was right.
Due to the early start today, at 9:30am I had made the 40 miles from Langtry to Dryden. Lo and behold, a store was not only there but OPEN! Pleased, I rolled up and while parking the bike, met the mailman who delivers mail from Del Rio to Sanderson. That is a 120 mile route.
Walking inside, the man who owns the store was sitting at the table talking with a local named Charlie Sikes. Charlie is kind of a local. He and his wife live in Houston, but they "bought a place here". Where that place was, I have no idea as this was the only place I saw for 40 miles. Charlie's wife talked me into having breakfast since you can order just about anything you want. The dining style here is... if you're thirsty, get up and go get yourself a drink from the refrigerated cases, if you're hungry, get up and get yourself something to eat, and before you leave, tell us what you had and pay for it. After talking with Charlie and the owner about my trip, being asked "Why are you doing this?" by Charlie and having the owner man respond "because it's there" (which is kinda right), Charlie said "it never bothered me none that it was there" and we all started laughing, on my part, maybe due to lack of sleep. Charlie and his wife had first come to the store to get 4 bags of feed for the deer, but with how Charlie was set in that chair when I walked in, there seemed to be no rush. As I was leaving, he and the others had gathered around the bags of feed, but were all just leaning on it, talking. It may have been a Dryden Community Meeting taking place as I think all residents were present.
Back on the road at 10:30am, the next 20 miles were brutal. The hills and canyons were up and down throughout, and given the lack of sleep, I wasn't sure if I would make it. The owner of the store at Dryden had said "oh yeah, right before Sanderson, you will cross that last big hill. If you can make it up that, you will feel like Superman and coast for the next few miles into town with your chest inflated." Each big hill I came to, I thought "Is this the one?" only to find another one behind it. 3 miles from Sanderson, I saw a picnic shelter. Not much to it, no restrooms or water, but a table shielded from the sun. I rode up to it, dismounted the bike in a clumsy way I am sure, and layed on the table. A trucker was parked nearby, but it wasn't long after my arrival that he left. "On my own now" I thought, as if he would come over and say "hey, let me take you into town". After a 10 minute cooling period just short of the "I'm never leaving" stage, I started pedaling again. I never saw another hill like those I had seen before, and I never coasted into town. The owner in Dryden was wrong. He must've been thinking of another road, though I don't think there is another one out here.
Renewed by my arrival at my destination town, I went to the Shamrock gas station where I met Phyllis over a cold Coke. This was Phyllis' last day working here before retirement. On the inside walls of the station, there were the pieces of art that were once a coloring contest. "That was from 15 years ago" Phyllis said. "We tear them off and give it to them when they graduate from highschool." Cute.
Before I left to go settle in at the guesthouse of Alpine-resident Liz Rogers, a little Mexican grandma was being lead to the front door of the Shamrock station. I opened the door for her and said "Come in where it is cool." She hesitated and responded "No ingles." So I said it in spanish. She commented "Hace calor... mucho calor" and seemed pleased with our simple exchange.
After cleaning up and settling in at the house, I went to the Public Library in this town of 861 residents. Arriving in the open hour window of 2pm-5pm, I did a quick preliminary update of my blog, before searching for a restaurant for dinner. The only place I could find was a bar that was open. Confirming they served pizza, I ordered one from the same woman I saw in the library. Her name was Bonnie and she likely beat me in here only by a few minutes to start her bartending shift. Unique place as the bottled beer is stored in ice coolers like you might bring to a tailgate party. It was all good by me. I had a beer, ate my pizza, and went home to collapse.
start time: 5:48am
end time: 12:30pm, maybe later. Was just glad to be done.
time on bike: 4:44:55
mileage: 59.86 miles
avg speed: 12.60 mph
max spped: 38.60 mph. I wonder if my brakes work?
calories: 4,502
conditions: Hot. 99F. I wasn't sure I could pull off the final 3 miles, but I did.
End elevation: 2,793 ft but I had to climb to that many times. I hate canyons.
Amistad/Del Rio, TX to Langtry, TX (49 miles)
Friday May 29, 2008
A few of the following will be included in this story when I have time to write it.
I loaded the new 3L of water onto the rear rack of my bike in preparation for long stretches of desert without stores, etc. It beat spending the money on a Camelbak ($40) and trying to keep it clean (I have seen pictures of what those things looked like inside after a cross country ride, very moldy). My cost was simply $1.50, but it gave me some security (and extra weight) as I started this stretch.
Not far down the road, before Comstock, I reached a Border Control checkpoint. They stop cars and ask questions to verify your citizenship, etc. As I rolled up, the agent said "Are you crazy???!!!" "Maybe", I told him. He offered water stating "most cyclists ask for it here", but I was fine, even without my new 3L stash. Instead I went in to the trailer to use the bathroom. Three agents total... two males, one female. She was in the bathroom before me, and didn't look pleased to see me as she came out. Not knowing why I got that from her, I stepped inside. I think it would be cruel and unusual punishment if they could bottle that smell and use it against illegal immigrants, but it explained why she wasn't happy to see me going in there right away. A few photos of their vehicles later (photos of agents are not allowed), and I was back on the road.
Comstock TX: a small unincorprated place with a unique little store named Holley's. I believe Holley is a widow having told me her husband had a service garage here. When she would go into Del Rio, 30 miles away, she started buying 2 of what she needed and kept 1 of each item for sale. It worked, and her husband's garage turned into Holley's little convenience store. Remnants of the service garage are still existant. Though Holley intends to clean up the other half of the former garage site and expand the store to sell more "curios" as she called them (knick nacks), she was seen packaging used tires for sale and was marking the price on them while I warmed up my homemade brisket sandwich. She also explained that the gas pumps haven't been working for a while, and she is frustrated that the people haven't come to fix them because people pull in for gas and then she can't help them.
The diesel pump works, but because the price has escalated beyond the level anyone who made these pumps ever expected back then, she sells it by the half-gallon. You pay twice the total price you see on the pump.
I crossed the Pecos River on the way to Langtry. Some use the Pecos River to define West Texas. The PEcos River there is beautiful and I snapped many photos. While doing so, a tarantula walked past me. They say they are harmless to people, but man, they sure don't look nice.
Langtry, adjacent to a bend in the Rio Grande, was a challenging 60 miles from the start. 60 miles filled with elevation gains only to be followed by canyons where you gave it all back. Glad to be at the halfway point to Sanderson from Del Rio (the two places with more than a couple houses), I came to the Judge Roy Bean Visitor Center. There is little here besides the JRB Visitor Center, but Judge Roy Bean was such a prominent figure in Texas history that they preserved his saloon/justice hall as well as his house and an Opera House he built in hopes of luring to town a theatrical dame he was hooked silly on. The Judge was nothing more than a soloon owner with hopes of getting rich off the railroad workers. But then crime peaked to a level that the railroad demanded a lawman be appointed in that area of Texas. Roy got the call. He held court in his saloon and had his own brand of justice. For example: Gunfights were illegal. After one of the men died, he went to the body, found the gun under his collapsed frame, checked his pockets and found $41. His verdict was quick: For the crime of the concealed weapon, based on the evidence found, the fine was $41. Of course he kept the guns and money for himself. Although some might think he was a hanging judge, he never did. Instead he would take the gun and money of any evil-doer, anbd send them out of town to never return again. Getting around back then without a gun or money was a death sentence in itself. I've got more tales about Judge Roy Bean I'll share in person soemtime.
The Visitor Center allows long distance cyclists to use their restrooms while camping at the Community Hall across the road a ways. Trick is the Visitor Center closes at 6pm. After that, you better tighten up. Seeing a store across the street, I thought I would do a bit of recon. The store closes at 5pm. The post office (hard to believe they have one here), which is a single room with a locking door attached to the store, closes at Noon, and, despite my intent to send postcards, it was closed. After a quick burger at THEE gas station & restaurant (also closes at 5pm) where Mary Ann made me a burger while her mom, Joan, made small talk, I left the Visitor Center to set up camp. Finding the right spot for the tent wasn't difficult. There was only one shaded (but super windy) side at 7pm, and there were piles of goat droppings to avoid. As I set up the tent, a young dog from the neighboring house came over barking. Having enough of dogs on this trip, I charged him full speed and he ran away, but the barking got the attention of one of the 7-pickup-truck-owners who lived in the house nextdoor. I gave him a small wave that indicated "yeah I see ya, but I don't want to talk to you". He did the same. After I got the tent set up in crazy winds, I crawled inside my 95-degree home and just spread out. Shortly after, being Friday, the fellas from the 7-truck-house, came outside to drink beer and tell stories. All were Mexicans. They stayed out there well after the sun went down, turning on a porchlight ridiculously bright, almost to be considered a beacon. I think the temp cooled off around 10pm, and they went inside around 11:30pm. Finally, I fell asleep. At 1:30am, new voices emerged. There was no new vehicle, but new voices. They threw a can at the door of the 7-truck-house, and a man emerged probably expecting it was me. "What's up?" he said in English. Then the spanish flowed for the next 10 minutes, followed by all of them getting in one truck and heading off without lights on. From the spanish I could understand, I think a deal was being brokered to drive the "new arrivals" inland. I rolled over, struggling to get any sleep, and awaiting dawn.
start time: 7:21am
end time: Noon-ish (but too late to mail a postcard since the Post Office closes at Noon)
time on bike: 3:28:59
mileage: 49.15 miles
avg speed: 14.11 mph
max speed: 37.66 mph (I wonder what the speed rating of my helmet, or my skull, is)
calories: 3,708
conditions: Deep canyons between Comstock and Langtry swiping the elevation I worked so hard to gain, only to make me have to earn it again. Hot!!!! 95F
Elevation: I think around 1,500 ft
A few of the following will be included in this story when I have time to write it.
I loaded the new 3L of water onto the rear rack of my bike in preparation for long stretches of desert without stores, etc. It beat spending the money on a Camelbak ($40) and trying to keep it clean (I have seen pictures of what those things looked like inside after a cross country ride, very moldy). My cost was simply $1.50, but it gave me some security (and extra weight) as I started this stretch.
Not far down the road, before Comstock, I reached a Border Control checkpoint. They stop cars and ask questions to verify your citizenship, etc. As I rolled up, the agent said "Are you crazy???!!!" "Maybe", I told him. He offered water stating "most cyclists ask for it here", but I was fine, even without my new 3L stash. Instead I went in to the trailer to use the bathroom. Three agents total... two males, one female. She was in the bathroom before me, and didn't look pleased to see me as she came out. Not knowing why I got that from her, I stepped inside. I think it would be cruel and unusual punishment if they could bottle that smell and use it against illegal immigrants, but it explained why she wasn't happy to see me going in there right away. A few photos of their vehicles later (photos of agents are not allowed), and I was back on the road.
Comstock TX: a small unincorprated place with a unique little store named Holley's. I believe Holley is a widow having told me her husband had a service garage here. When she would go into Del Rio, 30 miles away, she started buying 2 of what she needed and kept 1 of each item for sale. It worked, and her husband's garage turned into Holley's little convenience store. Remnants of the service garage are still existant. Though Holley intends to clean up the other half of the former garage site and expand the store to sell more "curios" as she called them (knick nacks), she was seen packaging used tires for sale and was marking the price on them while I warmed up my homemade brisket sandwich. She also explained that the gas pumps haven't been working for a while, and she is frustrated that the people haven't come to fix them because people pull in for gas and then she can't help them.
The diesel pump works, but because the price has escalated beyond the level anyone who made these pumps ever expected back then, she sells it by the half-gallon. You pay twice the total price you see on the pump.
I crossed the Pecos River on the way to Langtry. Some use the Pecos River to define West Texas. The PEcos River there is beautiful and I snapped many photos. While doing so, a tarantula walked past me. They say they are harmless to people, but man, they sure don't look nice.
Langtry, adjacent to a bend in the Rio Grande, was a challenging 60 miles from the start. 60 miles filled with elevation gains only to be followed by canyons where you gave it all back. Glad to be at the halfway point to Sanderson from Del Rio (the two places with more than a couple houses), I came to the Judge Roy Bean Visitor Center. There is little here besides the JRB Visitor Center, but Judge Roy Bean was such a prominent figure in Texas history that they preserved his saloon/justice hall as well as his house and an Opera House he built in hopes of luring to town a theatrical dame he was hooked silly on. The Judge was nothing more than a soloon owner with hopes of getting rich off the railroad workers. But then crime peaked to a level that the railroad demanded a lawman be appointed in that area of Texas. Roy got the call. He held court in his saloon and had his own brand of justice. For example: Gunfights were illegal. After one of the men died, he went to the body, found the gun under his collapsed frame, checked his pockets and found $41. His verdict was quick: For the crime of the concealed weapon, based on the evidence found, the fine was $41. Of course he kept the guns and money for himself. Although some might think he was a hanging judge, he never did. Instead he would take the gun and money of any evil-doer, anbd send them out of town to never return again. Getting around back then without a gun or money was a death sentence in itself. I've got more tales about Judge Roy Bean I'll share in person soemtime.
The Visitor Center allows long distance cyclists to use their restrooms while camping at the Community Hall across the road a ways. Trick is the Visitor Center closes at 6pm. After that, you better tighten up. Seeing a store across the street, I thought I would do a bit of recon. The store closes at 5pm. The post office (hard to believe they have one here), which is a single room with a locking door attached to the store, closes at Noon, and, despite my intent to send postcards, it was closed. After a quick burger at THEE gas station & restaurant (also closes at 5pm) where Mary Ann made me a burger while her mom, Joan, made small talk, I left the Visitor Center to set up camp. Finding the right spot for the tent wasn't difficult. There was only one shaded (but super windy) side at 7pm, and there were piles of goat droppings to avoid. As I set up the tent, a young dog from the neighboring house came over barking. Having enough of dogs on this trip, I charged him full speed and he ran away, but the barking got the attention of one of the 7-pickup-truck-owners who lived in the house nextdoor. I gave him a small wave that indicated "yeah I see ya, but I don't want to talk to you". He did the same. After I got the tent set up in crazy winds, I crawled inside my 95-degree home and just spread out. Shortly after, being Friday, the fellas from the 7-truck-house, came outside to drink beer and tell stories. All were Mexicans. They stayed out there well after the sun went down, turning on a porchlight ridiculously bright, almost to be considered a beacon. I think the temp cooled off around 10pm, and they went inside around 11:30pm. Finally, I fell asleep. At 1:30am, new voices emerged. There was no new vehicle, but new voices. They threw a can at the door of the 7-truck-house, and a man emerged probably expecting it was me. "What's up?" he said in English. Then the spanish flowed for the next 10 minutes, followed by all of them getting in one truck and heading off without lights on. From the spanish I could understand, I think a deal was being brokered to drive the "new arrivals" inland. I rolled over, struggling to get any sleep, and awaiting dawn.
start time: 7:21am
end time: Noon-ish (but too late to mail a postcard since the Post Office closes at Noon)
time on bike: 3:28:59
mileage: 49.15 miles
avg speed: 14.11 mph
max speed: 37.66 mph (I wonder what the speed rating of my helmet, or my skull, is)
calories: 3,708
conditions: Deep canyons between Comstock and Langtry swiping the elevation I worked so hard to gain, only to make me have to earn it again. Hot!!!! 95F
Elevation: I think around 1,500 ft
Bracketville, TX to Amistad Nat'l Rec Center, TX (43 miles)
Thursday May 29, 2008
Awake at 5:45am and out riding by 7:11am. A simple wave to the guard at the front of Fort Clark Springs suggested I wasn't on a wanted list for the photo taking yesterday.
75 degrees F, slight tail winds to push me along, and flat roads made an easy ride to Del Rio.
Averaged 15-16 mph, which is moving nicely.
Speaking of moving nicely, it isn't easy to move nicely from Mexico to the US in this area.
San Diego has border patrol, but I have never seen anything like the number of agents near Bracketville/Del Rio. Look at a map and you will see Del Rio is right there next to Mexico with only the Rio Grande separating the two countries. As I pedalled on, there were often border patrol vehicles on dirt frontage roads scanning the scrub rangeland for signs of illegal immigrants. Some would have a guy staring at the dirt road itself looking for footprints at which point they would stop and investigate. I have seen sets of big tires chained together on these roads. The Border Patrol drags these tires behind their vehicles to wipe the slate clean, increasing the odds of seeing a fresh footprint during their next round. To my Mexican Brother-In-Law: knowing you might be interested in a long-haul bike trip...I suggest you find another route to bike. I can only imagine you would make very few miles each day being stopped and interrogated frequently.
No interrogations for me though. I arrived to Del Rio super early. Too early to stop for the day. Well, not too early for Dairy Queen I thought. I pulled in and found Jesus, a local exterminator doing his regular work outside. The restaurant was not open yet. He and a delivery driver were trying to get the attention of the kid inside, but because the kid had headphones on, it was impossible. Jesus and I had a nice talk about Del Rio (a "calm place" he called it) and the ride I was on, among other topics, while I was waiting for DQ to open it's doors. Oddly enough, Jesus lived and worked in Berlin, Wisconsin. Being from Wisconsin, our conversation went on. Seeing me give up on DQ, Jesus directed me to a nearby IHOP.
Misty had never met anyone biking across country before. And I had never met a pancake platter I didn't like, so I got along just fine with the waitress at IHOP. After I left and was unlocking my bike, Micheal, a hitchhiker carrying a Whattaburger soda cup, walked up to me. Definitely in the mood to talk, he told me about how his fiance' in Del Rio had cheated on him and despite their plans to get married this weekend, he was leaving to go back to El Paso. On the lawn of IHOP, we shared some "girls are evil" stories with eachother having plenty of them in our own mental luggage. I just wanted Micheal to know I knew where he was at. I challenged him to get to El Paso before I do and gave him the projected date of June 8th. "If I see you, I'm buying lunch" he said as we parted.
Continuing on Hwy 90 past Del Rio, I came to Amistad National Recreation Center. Well get this! At one time MExico and the US worked together real nicely. In fact, in 1969, the two nations built a dam of the Rio Grande to ensure that in dry seasons, there would be ample water to provide for people in the nearby areas of both countries. At the Visitor Center, the Park Ranger (?) helped me with my planning, showing me a topographic map of the area. He liked what I was doing but said he would need to do it with a group to get some time with people. I told him that this visit into the Visitor Center was my "time with people", though it seems I meet them hitchiking as well.
Looking ahead, I decided I wasn't ready to go too much further today based on accomodation availability and mileage, so I stopped at the Amistad Lake Resort. The lady behind the desk (Judy?) offered me a 15% discount because my ride is for charity. The motel is definitely not new, but included a basic room with a restaurant and gas station nearby. These are ideal for a cyclist. Dinner and supplies for tomorrow are footsteps away. After doing a bit of sink laundry and drying it almost instantly in the wind and heat out by the daytime-abandoned but remarkably clean swimming pool, I went to get some dinner. Lisa, the bartender helped me out, and after finding out I live in San Diego, told me that Byron, the owner, is "from out there somewhere". After Byron was done hanging with two drinking buddies telling fish stories (literally), he came to the bar. Byron is from Huntington Beach and a professional fisherman. He found this place locked up when he was at Amistad Lake and decided he was tired of pulling his boat trailer through Southern California traffic, instead to make a go of it with a highschool buddy turned business partner out here near Del Rio.
I had noticed on the margherita list that there was one called "Byron the Bachelor" Margeherita. It was pricey, so I skipped it, but it was good to meet the guy who has a drink named after him. (Days later, I found out that Byron was indeed The Bachelor from the reality TV show, The Bachelor. I was also told that he is still with the girl he picked fromt he show and they are very happy. The assault charge she was booked with tells a slightly different story, but, base don my experience, I chalk it up to latina fire. The mystery is that some non-latinas have the latina fire.)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byron_Velvick
start time: 7:11am
end time: 11:30am
time on bike: 2:57:31
mileage: 42.55
avg speed: 14.38 mph
max speed: 26.62 mph
calories: 3,320
conditions: flat, 85F, tailwind, nice easy ride.
An easy ride today. Todays story will include border patrol agents, Jesus the exterminator, IHOP Misty, hitchhiker Mike from El Paso, and Huntington Beach-native Byron who owns the motel I stayed at.
start time: 7:11am
end time: 11:30am
time on bike: 2:57:31
mileage: 42.55 miles
avg speed: 14.38 mph
max speed: 26.62 mph
calories: 3,320
conditions: fast, flat, nice tailwind making the ride easy.
Awake at 5:45am and out riding by 7:11am. A simple wave to the guard at the front of Fort Clark Springs suggested I wasn't on a wanted list for the photo taking yesterday.
75 degrees F, slight tail winds to push me along, and flat roads made an easy ride to Del Rio.
Averaged 15-16 mph, which is moving nicely.
Speaking of moving nicely, it isn't easy to move nicely from Mexico to the US in this area.
San Diego has border patrol, but I have never seen anything like the number of agents near Bracketville/Del Rio. Look at a map and you will see Del Rio is right there next to Mexico with only the Rio Grande separating the two countries. As I pedalled on, there were often border patrol vehicles on dirt frontage roads scanning the scrub rangeland for signs of illegal immigrants. Some would have a guy staring at the dirt road itself looking for footprints at which point they would stop and investigate. I have seen sets of big tires chained together on these roads. The Border Patrol drags these tires behind their vehicles to wipe the slate clean, increasing the odds of seeing a fresh footprint during their next round. To my Mexican Brother-In-Law: knowing you might be interested in a long-haul bike trip...I suggest you find another route to bike. I can only imagine you would make very few miles each day being stopped and interrogated frequently.
No interrogations for me though. I arrived to Del Rio super early. Too early to stop for the day. Well, not too early for Dairy Queen I thought. I pulled in and found Jesus, a local exterminator doing his regular work outside. The restaurant was not open yet. He and a delivery driver were trying to get the attention of the kid inside, but because the kid had headphones on, it was impossible. Jesus and I had a nice talk about Del Rio (a "calm place" he called it) and the ride I was on, among other topics, while I was waiting for DQ to open it's doors. Oddly enough, Jesus lived and worked in Berlin, Wisconsin. Being from Wisconsin, our conversation went on. Seeing me give up on DQ, Jesus directed me to a nearby IHOP.
Misty had never met anyone biking across country before. And I had never met a pancake platter I didn't like, so I got along just fine with the waitress at IHOP. After I left and was unlocking my bike, Micheal, a hitchhiker carrying a Whattaburger soda cup, walked up to me. Definitely in the mood to talk, he told me about how his fiance' in Del Rio had cheated on him and despite their plans to get married this weekend, he was leaving to go back to El Paso. On the lawn of IHOP, we shared some "girls are evil" stories with eachother having plenty of them in our own mental luggage. I just wanted Micheal to know I knew where he was at. I challenged him to get to El Paso before I do and gave him the projected date of June 8th. "If I see you, I'm buying lunch" he said as we parted.
Continuing on Hwy 90 past Del Rio, I came to Amistad National Recreation Center. Well get this! At one time MExico and the US worked together real nicely. In fact, in 1969, the two nations built a dam of the Rio Grande to ensure that in dry seasons, there would be ample water to provide for people in the nearby areas of both countries. At the Visitor Center, the Park Ranger (?) helped me with my planning, showing me a topographic map of the area. He liked what I was doing but said he would need to do it with a group to get some time with people. I told him that this visit into the Visitor Center was my "time with people", though it seems I meet them hitchiking as well.
Looking ahead, I decided I wasn't ready to go too much further today based on accomodation availability and mileage, so I stopped at the Amistad Lake Resort. The lady behind the desk (Judy?) offered me a 15% discount because my ride is for charity. The motel is definitely not new, but included a basic room with a restaurant and gas station nearby. These are ideal for a cyclist. Dinner and supplies for tomorrow are footsteps away. After doing a bit of sink laundry and drying it almost instantly in the wind and heat out by the daytime-abandoned but remarkably clean swimming pool, I went to get some dinner. Lisa, the bartender helped me out, and after finding out I live in San Diego, told me that Byron, the owner, is "from out there somewhere". After Byron was done hanging with two drinking buddies telling fish stories (literally), he came to the bar. Byron is from Huntington Beach and a professional fisherman. He found this place locked up when he was at Amistad Lake and decided he was tired of pulling his boat trailer through Southern California traffic, instead to make a go of it with a highschool buddy turned business partner out here near Del Rio.
I had noticed on the margherita list that there was one called "Byron the Bachelor" Margeherita. It was pricey, so I skipped it, but it was good to meet the guy who has a drink named after him. (Days later, I found out that Byron was indeed The Bachelor from the reality TV show, The Bachelor. I was also told that he is still with the girl he picked fromt he show and they are very happy. The assault charge she was booked with tells a slightly different story, but, base don my experience, I chalk it up to latina fire. The mystery is that some non-latinas have the latina fire.)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Byron_Velvick
start time: 7:11am
end time: 11:30am
time on bike: 2:57:31
mileage: 42.55
avg speed: 14.38 mph
max speed: 26.62 mph
calories: 3,320
conditions: flat, 85F, tailwind, nice easy ride.
An easy ride today. Todays story will include border patrol agents, Jesus the exterminator, IHOP Misty, hitchhiker Mike from El Paso, and Huntington Beach-native Byron who owns the motel I stayed at.
start time: 7:11am
end time: 11:30am
time on bike: 2:57:31
mileage: 42.55 miles
avg speed: 14.38 mph
max speed: 26.62 mph
calories: 3,320
conditions: fast, flat, nice tailwind making the ride easy.
San Antonio, TX to Bracketville, TX
Wednesday May 28, 2008
Groggy and sleepy-eyed I woke at 6:45am and sprung out of bed to say goodbye to Leslie (Ben's wife) since she was heading to work. Dragging my feet a little, I was finally ready to go by 11:30am after last minute research since the West Texas strecth makes me a bit nervous. I mean, if you don't plan well (knowing where you can get food, water, and stay for the night), your trip could end, and not positively.
Not wanting to morph into a tumbleweed with dry cracked lips, I spent a lot of time making sure I knew what was where in West Texas before setting off. The plan today was simply to get a lift well out of San Antonio and a boost to Bracketville right on Hwy 90 where I would start pedaling tomorrow. Simple enough.
Not even into one hour into the ride, just after commenting to Ben that his 1998 Ford Ranger was still looking good (and his confirmation it was working well too), the temperature gauge on the truck was pegged as we had reached Castroville (a west of San Antonio suburb). A pop of the hood and a quick look showed something that looked like Yahoo or Nestle Quik in his radiator. A few less than environmentally friendly actions later, and we decided to let the truck cool before giving it a trial run. That is when we met the friendly yet aggressive bully host of Pizza Hut, Carolyn.
As soon as we walked in the Pizza Hut door, her friendly but loud voice hit us "You fellas having the buffet?!" Um, well, I guess so. "Whatcha drinkin?" Um, whatever you think I should have, I guess. She was a 65-year old-ish woman with tight high gray hair and what may have been some new wrinkle-hiding makeup. After finishing our meals, she came by to talk a bit. Having found we had a breakdown, she recommended "Go to Albino's Garage down 90 just a bit more. They are good people. They'll treat you real fair." Satisfied with this advice, but hoping our analysis and environment-tainting actions fixed the problem, we were preparing to leave. She added "Ask for Mike. I play poker with him on Tuesdays sometimes." This was unexpected. I wondered if she ever intimidated Mike and others into folding when they likely had a winning hand.
Well, our fix didn't take. So down the road we found our way to Albino's and met Mike. Mike was a 37 year old guy with a young face, married with kids. Tired of working on the Toyota he had in the air, he looked happy to see a new project roll up. A quick diagnosis followed by a "I failed to maintain my vehicle, gosh, I am so embarrassed" confession by Ben, a side conversation about Mike's hobby of racing vehicles back when gas was cheaper, and Mike made a quick trip to the local NAPA. An hour or more later, and we were ready to go. Failed thermostat, potentially clogged by the sludge rolling through the cooling system. Albino's was a unique repair shop. Probably the only one I have ever seen with a piano in the waiting room.
In Bracketville, we found a restaurant named Julies. After entertaining oursleves in the roller-chairs they have, I had a BLT, while Ben had catfish. A local woman sat near us and after a couple questions from me about where the motel was, she asked questions about my trip. Her face suggested I would die, but her words were kind of supportive, kind of. After her dinner friends showed up, they were genuinely supportive and encouraging. Glad to see they weren't all suggesting hanging it up.
The story of Bracketville and neighboring Fort Clark Springs in a nutshell:
Fort Clark is a historic place. The last fort in the US to actively train and use cavalry. Now a privately owned place, it was once used as a military installation in US-Mexico wars, as well as the various wars with the Indians. To support the fort, Bracketville (first known as Bracket until the Post Office suggested the name change because there was already a Bracket, TX) popped up and provided supplies, etc. Tonight, I stayed at the only motel in town: Fort Clark Springs. The 12-room (estimate) motel was the barracks for the troops stationed there at one time. It was actually really nice, and the place should be seen if you ever go through there. They have a quirky no-photo policy, but I have a no-listen policy sometimes, too, so it worked out.
Tonight I went to bed filled with both anticipation and excitement for a portion of the trip I so heavily researched and planned, as well as anxiety that there was something I had forgotten or would come up at the wrong time in the middle of nowhere.
Groggy and sleepy-eyed I woke at 6:45am and sprung out of bed to say goodbye to Leslie (Ben's wife) since she was heading to work. Dragging my feet a little, I was finally ready to go by 11:30am after last minute research since the West Texas strecth makes me a bit nervous. I mean, if you don't plan well (knowing where you can get food, water, and stay for the night), your trip could end, and not positively.
Not wanting to morph into a tumbleweed with dry cracked lips, I spent a lot of time making sure I knew what was where in West Texas before setting off. The plan today was simply to get a lift well out of San Antonio and a boost to Bracketville right on Hwy 90 where I would start pedaling tomorrow. Simple enough.
Not even into one hour into the ride, just after commenting to Ben that his 1998 Ford Ranger was still looking good (and his confirmation it was working well too), the temperature gauge on the truck was pegged as we had reached Castroville (a west of San Antonio suburb). A pop of the hood and a quick look showed something that looked like Yahoo or Nestle Quik in his radiator. A few less than environmentally friendly actions later, and we decided to let the truck cool before giving it a trial run. That is when we met the friendly yet aggressive bully host of Pizza Hut, Carolyn.
As soon as we walked in the Pizza Hut door, her friendly but loud voice hit us "You fellas having the buffet?!" Um, well, I guess so. "Whatcha drinkin?" Um, whatever you think I should have, I guess. She was a 65-year old-ish woman with tight high gray hair and what may have been some new wrinkle-hiding makeup. After finishing our meals, she came by to talk a bit. Having found we had a breakdown, she recommended "Go to Albino's Garage down 90 just a bit more. They are good people. They'll treat you real fair." Satisfied with this advice, but hoping our analysis and environment-tainting actions fixed the problem, we were preparing to leave. She added "Ask for Mike. I play poker with him on Tuesdays sometimes." This was unexpected. I wondered if she ever intimidated Mike and others into folding when they likely had a winning hand.
Well, our fix didn't take. So down the road we found our way to Albino's and met Mike. Mike was a 37 year old guy with a young face, married with kids. Tired of working on the Toyota he had in the air, he looked happy to see a new project roll up. A quick diagnosis followed by a "I failed to maintain my vehicle, gosh, I am so embarrassed" confession by Ben, a side conversation about Mike's hobby of racing vehicles back when gas was cheaper, and Mike made a quick trip to the local NAPA. An hour or more later, and we were ready to go. Failed thermostat, potentially clogged by the sludge rolling through the cooling system. Albino's was a unique repair shop. Probably the only one I have ever seen with a piano in the waiting room.
In Bracketville, we found a restaurant named Julies. After entertaining oursleves in the roller-chairs they have, I had a BLT, while Ben had catfish. A local woman sat near us and after a couple questions from me about where the motel was, she asked questions about my trip. Her face suggested I would die, but her words were kind of supportive, kind of. After her dinner friends showed up, they were genuinely supportive and encouraging. Glad to see they weren't all suggesting hanging it up.
The story of Bracketville and neighboring Fort Clark Springs in a nutshell:
Fort Clark is a historic place. The last fort in the US to actively train and use cavalry. Now a privately owned place, it was once used as a military installation in US-Mexico wars, as well as the various wars with the Indians. To support the fort, Bracketville (first known as Bracket until the Post Office suggested the name change because there was already a Bracket, TX) popped up and provided supplies, etc. Tonight, I stayed at the only motel in town: Fort Clark Springs. The 12-room (estimate) motel was the barracks for the troops stationed there at one time. It was actually really nice, and the place should be seen if you ever go through there. They have a quirky no-photo policy, but I have a no-listen policy sometimes, too, so it worked out.
Tonight I went to bed filled with both anticipation and excitement for a portion of the trip I so heavily researched and planned, as well as anxiety that there was something I had forgotten or would come up at the wrong time in the middle of nowhere.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Route through West Texas
It may be some time before I can update the blog from West Texas. To keep you entertained, feel free to google any of the towns I am passing through. Many have quite a history or a unique draw...for example:
Marfa: mysterious Marfa lights some say are UFOs or the result of a UFO crash in Mexico 40 miles awayhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CFnDrG1iH04
Marfa: site of the Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean film "Giant" as well as an artsy place in the middle of the Texas deserthttp://our.tentativetimes.net/marfa/
Marfa: Site of filming for "There Will Be Blood" and "No Country for Old Men"http://www.courierpress.com/news/2008/Feb/24/1-stoplight-2-movies-and-16-academy-award-to/
Marathon: Site of the Gage Hotel, a piece of civilization out in the middle of nowhere
http://www.gagehotel.com/________________
Wed May 28th: Brackettville, TX. Fort Clark Springs Motel
Thursday May 29th: 30 miles to Del Rio, TX, Warmshowers.org host: James McDermott
Friday May 30th: +300' and 41 miles to just west of Comstock, TX: camping at Seminole Canyon State Historic Park
Saturday May 31st: 20 miles to camp at the Judge Roy Bean Visitor Center(stopping here to make the next day reasonable, no showers here; if feel good Friday, may just come right here instead of Seminole Canyon though they have nice showers there and some good hiking)
Sunday June 1st: +1,400' and 61 miles to Sanderson, TX: guesthouse of warmshowers.org host Liz Rogers
Monday June 2nd: staying put in the gueshouse of Liz Rogers
Tuesday June 3rd: +1,100' and 55 miles to Marathon, TX, Gage Hotel or Marathon Motel
Wed June 4th: +500' and 31 miles to Alpine, TX, warmshowers.org host Liz Rogers
Thurday June 5th: 26 miles to Marfa, TX, Hotel Paisano Thunderbird Hotel or Riata Inn
Friday June 6th: 78 miles to Van Horn, TX (not sure how to break this ride up)Days Inn or other motel
Saturday June 7th: +500' and 33 miles to Sierra Blanca, TXEl Camino Motelor Sierra Motel
Sunday June 8th: -1,000' and 46 miles to Fort Hancock, TX, Fort Hancock motel
Monday June 9th: 48 miles to El Paso, TX, maybe a warmshowers.org host
Tuesday June 10th: rest in El Paso TX and plan next leg through New Mexico
Marfa: mysterious Marfa lights some say are UFOs or the result of a UFO crash in Mexico 40 miles awayhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CFnDrG1iH04
Marfa: site of the Rock Hudson, Elizabeth Taylor, James Dean film "Giant" as well as an artsy place in the middle of the Texas deserthttp://our.tentativetimes.net/marfa/
Marfa: Site of filming for "There Will Be Blood" and "No Country for Old Men"http://www.courierpress.com/news/2008/Feb/24/1-stoplight-2-movies-and-16-academy-award-to/
Marathon: Site of the Gage Hotel, a piece of civilization out in the middle of nowhere
http://www.gagehotel.com/________________
Wed May 28th: Brackettville, TX. Fort Clark Springs Motel
Thursday May 29th: 30 miles to Del Rio, TX, Warmshowers.org host: James McDermott
Friday May 30th: +300' and 41 miles to just west of Comstock, TX: camping at Seminole Canyon State Historic Park
Saturday May 31st: 20 miles to camp at the Judge Roy Bean Visitor Center(stopping here to make the next day reasonable, no showers here; if feel good Friday, may just come right here instead of Seminole Canyon though they have nice showers there and some good hiking)
Sunday June 1st: +1,400' and 61 miles to Sanderson, TX: guesthouse of warmshowers.org host Liz Rogers
Monday June 2nd: staying put in the gueshouse of Liz Rogers
Tuesday June 3rd: +1,100' and 55 miles to Marathon, TX, Gage Hotel or Marathon Motel
Wed June 4th: +500' and 31 miles to Alpine, TX, warmshowers.org host Liz Rogers
Thurday June 5th: 26 miles to Marfa, TX, Hotel Paisano Thunderbird Hotel or Riata Inn
Friday June 6th: 78 miles to Van Horn, TX (not sure how to break this ride up)Days Inn or other motel
Saturday June 7th: +500' and 33 miles to Sierra Blanca, TXEl Camino Motelor Sierra Motel
Sunday June 8th: -1,000' and 46 miles to Fort Hancock, TX, Fort Hancock motel
Monday June 9th: 48 miles to El Paso, TX, maybe a warmshowers.org host
Tuesday June 10th: rest in El Paso TX and plan next leg through New Mexico
Monday, May 26, 2008
Rest Days in Austin and San Antonio
I am hanging with my friend John Ray in Austin from Thursday May 22 through Sunday May 25, 2008.
Thursday after he got back from work we went to Stubb's BBQ in downtown Austin for a Rock and Restock concert last night featuring Bob Schneider. Excellent BBQ and some pretty jumpin' tunes.
Friday after he got back from work we went downtown Austin to Maiko for Sushi. We also went to a bar named Ginger Man, where they serve what seems an endless variety of beers on tap. Crazy amount of people downtown near 6th Street. Lots of girls revealing skin and guys wearing the oh-so-predictable striped long sleeve dress shirts searching for "young love", each not having quite found the other yet. Katy the pedicabber (and long distance bike tourist of recent years) let me ride up front on her set of wheels for a photo.
Saturday we went out to Driftwood, TX to the Salt Lick for more BBQ. Cool place with a band playing at this dry-county-but-you-can-bring-a-cooler-with-beer place. Nothing but TV at night as the BBQ sauce percolated in my belly.
Sunday May 25 - Tuesday May 27, 2008 I am visiting my friends Ben Pedraza and his wife Leslie in San Antonio.
Monday we went to the Riverwalk, an area downtown along the San Antonio river filled with shops, cafes, etc. It is the most European thing I have experienced so far on this trip. And of, course, I also visited the Alamo, site of a Mexican victory (General Santa Anna) against Sam Houston's Texas army.
Tuesday I got a one-hour massage with Krista from Zenergy Touch (http://www.zenergytouch.com/). My lower back was tight and I was almost more worried a massage might worsen things and prevent a Wednesday launch, but I went in anyway. With a few well asked questions, Krista designed a massage session to address my needs since my bicycle journey was unique. Combining deep work with Thai massage and Medical Massage stretches, I walked away feeling far better than I did in 9 out of 10 past experiences. (#10 was with Karen Watt in San Diego.) When in San Antonio, give Krista a call!
I also cleaned the chain on my bike, patched a previously flat tube (hastily exchanged for a new tube a while back), and cleaned the bike up. My route is pretty well established now and will be the subject of the next blog entry as it may be some time before I can give detailed updates heading into West Texas.
Tuesday night was a movie named Seven Samurai sponsored by Texas Public Radio. Good times replacing subtitles with our own more creative jabber. The movie was at one of the theaters where you can order dinner and beer/wine while watching the film. San Diego really needs one of these.
My plan is to get started heading west again Wednesday May 28.
Thursday after he got back from work we went to Stubb's BBQ in downtown Austin for a Rock and Restock concert last night featuring Bob Schneider. Excellent BBQ and some pretty jumpin' tunes.
Friday after he got back from work we went downtown Austin to Maiko for Sushi. We also went to a bar named Ginger Man, where they serve what seems an endless variety of beers on tap. Crazy amount of people downtown near 6th Street. Lots of girls revealing skin and guys wearing the oh-so-predictable striped long sleeve dress shirts searching for "young love", each not having quite found the other yet. Katy the pedicabber (and long distance bike tourist of recent years) let me ride up front on her set of wheels for a photo.
Saturday we went out to Driftwood, TX to the Salt Lick for more BBQ. Cool place with a band playing at this dry-county-but-you-can-bring-a-cooler-with-beer place. Nothing but TV at night as the BBQ sauce percolated in my belly.
Sunday May 25 - Tuesday May 27, 2008 I am visiting my friends Ben Pedraza and his wife Leslie in San Antonio.
Monday we went to the Riverwalk, an area downtown along the San Antonio river filled with shops, cafes, etc. It is the most European thing I have experienced so far on this trip. And of, course, I also visited the Alamo, site of a Mexican victory (General Santa Anna) against Sam Houston's Texas army.
Tuesday I got a one-hour massage with Krista from Zenergy Touch (http://www.zenergytouch.com/). My lower back was tight and I was almost more worried a massage might worsen things and prevent a Wednesday launch, but I went in anyway. With a few well asked questions, Krista designed a massage session to address my needs since my bicycle journey was unique. Combining deep work with Thai massage and Medical Massage stretches, I walked away feeling far better than I did in 9 out of 10 past experiences. (#10 was with Karen Watt in San Diego.) When in San Antonio, give Krista a call!
I also cleaned the chain on my bike, patched a previously flat tube (hastily exchanged for a new tube a while back), and cleaned the bike up. My route is pretty well established now and will be the subject of the next blog entry as it may be some time before I can give detailed updates heading into West Texas.
Tuesday night was a movie named Seven Samurai sponsored by Texas Public Radio. Good times replacing subtitles with our own more creative jabber. The movie was at one of the theaters where you can order dinner and beer/wine while watching the film. San Diego really needs one of these.
My plan is to get started heading west again Wednesday May 28.
Friday, May 23, 2008
La Grange, TX to Bastrop, TX (31 miles)
Wednesday May 21, 2008
I was a little uncertain I was going to leave La Grange today. This was a nice (and cheap) motel, and I needed more rest. BUT, I made a deal with my legs this morning: Get me to Bastrop before it gets hot and we will go no further today.
Having eaten a McDonalds apple pie from the night before as well as familiar oatmeal made in a styrofoam to-go cup from iced tea at lunch the day before, I headed off on Highway 71 toward Bastrop. I was glad my legs which had tightened up during the night felt loose and relaxed after the first few miles. It's funny how I can stretch my legs in the middle of the night and almost fall asleep during the stretch. When I started this trip I couldn't even stretch very far. Times have changed.
The Colorado River winds along the northeast side of Highway 71. What that means is that should the shoulder disappear for some reason, I am limited as to my exit strategy from Highway 71. This caused me to be a bit nervous at the start, but seeing the wide shoulder along Highway 71 once I got started, my concerns were diminished.
Starting at 7am today, my goal was to get to Bastrop before things heated up too badly. 75 degrees when I started was comfortable, and remained comfortable the entire 30 mile ride as the sun was struggling to find it's way out from behind the mostly cloudy sky. "It was MY turn today", I thought as I ran from the sun, powering up hills as road construction crews watched me go by.
Passing some interesting and pretty sites along the way, I stopped occasionally to snap some pics. More old cars filled a lot along the way. It would be interesting to poke around some of these since I still have the 67 Mustang Convertible I bought in highschool and fixed up. But I wasn't going to give the sun a chance to catch up since I could see old cars another day.
The railroad tracks crossed under Highway 71. Something about RR tracks that I like. You can see how far they go or how they gently curve around a corner leading to who knows what. It's probably this kind of thinking that got me on a bike to do this ride in the first place. The route of the imaginary tracks under my bike tires changes often with no certainty as to how far they go.
My very first oil/gas well was seen near Smithville. That reminds me that in West Texas I will be heading into the same country where the recent movie "There Will Be Blood" was filmed.
The Colorado River winds around quite a bit. The birds apparently loved the shelter under the bridge. Perhaps the unseen troll feeds them daily.
Buscha's restaurant along Highway 71 must be popular the two days it is open per week.
The hills roll more gently when following a good sized highway. I rather prefer that over the quick ups and downs where you immediately give back what you just earned. I reached over 500 feet elevations, which is the most so far, though modest, I know.
Reaching Bastrop shortly after 9am, with the sun still trying to fight it's way out from behind the thick mesh of clouds, I was drawn to a unique looking restaurant on the edge of town: Kendra's Roadhouse. A closer look showed a neon sign luring me in with Hamburgers, Malts, and Drinks.
The cook at the Roadhouse told me they opened at 10:30am, but offered me ice cold water while I waited. Taking the opportunity to tweak my journal, I relaxed in the sun-lacking breeze. Soon, Becky, a very nice waitress with dirty blonde hair arrived and offered me a malt before opening time. Banana malt it is!!! Before the burger I later ordered was served, a regular customer named Ann, gray-haired, heavyset, and pleasant, was walking in with a jug. I asked "How's it going?" She signed and said "good". "Seems that sigh tells something different", I said in return. She went on to tell me that she is driving down past San Antonio to go to a horse show and wanted to leave earlier than the time she had woken up this morning. The jug was for filling with Kendra's Roadhouse tea. "They have the best tea here", she told me. Simply reaching for the chair, she invited herself to my table and joined me while the jug was being filled inside. I like how informal it is to do that here. She told me about her Arabian horse named K.R. Azeem and how her interest in horses was recently renewed after years away from them. With a jug of tea now in hand, she went to the car only to return a moment later with a business card and proud photos of Azeem.
Following the early lunch, I found my way through downtown Bastrop to the public library for route research, email, and blog updates.
Having parked and locked my bike near the library, the rest of the day was on foot between the river walk, the library, and various downtown shops. At a late lunch (yep, I can eat more often these days) I made sure to have a Lone Star beer as well as a Shiner bock, both Texas staples.
At 6:30pm, my friend John Ray, who recently moved to Austin from San Diego, drove up in his Jeep and took me back to his place just north of Austin where we ate brats off the grill before a little TV talk, and bedtime.
Finally some rest days! My legs held up their end of the deal today!
I was a little uncertain I was going to leave La Grange today. This was a nice (and cheap) motel, and I needed more rest. BUT, I made a deal with my legs this morning: Get me to Bastrop before it gets hot and we will go no further today.
Having eaten a McDonalds apple pie from the night before as well as familiar oatmeal made in a styrofoam to-go cup from iced tea at lunch the day before, I headed off on Highway 71 toward Bastrop. I was glad my legs which had tightened up during the night felt loose and relaxed after the first few miles. It's funny how I can stretch my legs in the middle of the night and almost fall asleep during the stretch. When I started this trip I couldn't even stretch very far. Times have changed.
The Colorado River winds along the northeast side of Highway 71. What that means is that should the shoulder disappear for some reason, I am limited as to my exit strategy from Highway 71. This caused me to be a bit nervous at the start, but seeing the wide shoulder along Highway 71 once I got started, my concerns were diminished.
Starting at 7am today, my goal was to get to Bastrop before things heated up too badly. 75 degrees when I started was comfortable, and remained comfortable the entire 30 mile ride as the sun was struggling to find it's way out from behind the mostly cloudy sky. "It was MY turn today", I thought as I ran from the sun, powering up hills as road construction crews watched me go by.
Passing some interesting and pretty sites along the way, I stopped occasionally to snap some pics. More old cars filled a lot along the way. It would be interesting to poke around some of these since I still have the 67 Mustang Convertible I bought in highschool and fixed up. But I wasn't going to give the sun a chance to catch up since I could see old cars another day.
The railroad tracks crossed under Highway 71. Something about RR tracks that I like. You can see how far they go or how they gently curve around a corner leading to who knows what. It's probably this kind of thinking that got me on a bike to do this ride in the first place. The route of the imaginary tracks under my bike tires changes often with no certainty as to how far they go.
My very first oil/gas well was seen near Smithville. That reminds me that in West Texas I will be heading into the same country where the recent movie "There Will Be Blood" was filmed.
The Colorado River winds around quite a bit. The birds apparently loved the shelter under the bridge. Perhaps the unseen troll feeds them daily.
Buscha's restaurant along Highway 71 must be popular the two days it is open per week.
The hills roll more gently when following a good sized highway. I rather prefer that over the quick ups and downs where you immediately give back what you just earned. I reached over 500 feet elevations, which is the most so far, though modest, I know.
Reaching Bastrop shortly after 9am, with the sun still trying to fight it's way out from behind the thick mesh of clouds, I was drawn to a unique looking restaurant on the edge of town: Kendra's Roadhouse. A closer look showed a neon sign luring me in with Hamburgers, Malts, and Drinks.
The cook at the Roadhouse told me they opened at 10:30am, but offered me ice cold water while I waited. Taking the opportunity to tweak my journal, I relaxed in the sun-lacking breeze. Soon, Becky, a very nice waitress with dirty blonde hair arrived and offered me a malt before opening time. Banana malt it is!!! Before the burger I later ordered was served, a regular customer named Ann, gray-haired, heavyset, and pleasant, was walking in with a jug. I asked "How's it going?" She signed and said "good". "Seems that sigh tells something different", I said in return. She went on to tell me that she is driving down past San Antonio to go to a horse show and wanted to leave earlier than the time she had woken up this morning. The jug was for filling with Kendra's Roadhouse tea. "They have the best tea here", she told me. Simply reaching for the chair, she invited herself to my table and joined me while the jug was being filled inside. I like how informal it is to do that here. She told me about her Arabian horse named K.R. Azeem and how her interest in horses was recently renewed after years away from them. With a jug of tea now in hand, she went to the car only to return a moment later with a business card and proud photos of Azeem.
Following the early lunch, I found my way through downtown Bastrop to the public library for route research, email, and blog updates.
Having parked and locked my bike near the library, the rest of the day was on foot between the river walk, the library, and various downtown shops. At a late lunch (yep, I can eat more often these days) I made sure to have a Lone Star beer as well as a Shiner bock, both Texas staples.
At 6:30pm, my friend John Ray, who recently moved to Austin from San Diego, drove up in his Jeep and took me back to his place just north of Austin where we ate brats off the grill before a little TV talk, and bedtime.
Finally some rest days! My legs held up their end of the deal today!
Bellville, TX to La Grange, TX (45 miles)
Tuesday May 20, 2008
After some much needed rest, I started my day at Snoflake Donut in Bellville, grabbing a tasty ham and cheese croissant. This place was crazy busy but the line moved fast and the business is well run.
Turning in my key at the motel front desk, it was no surprise to see a new degenerate attendent asleep, making no effort to wake as I walked in and set the key down. He simply went back to sleep as if I had disturbed him.
After only a couple miles down Highway 159 following my 7:30am start, three dogs charged me from their yard. They were running perpendicular to me and would surely catch me. I chose Oris's advice and stopped on a dime. They stopped as well. The trouble was that I couldn't get my left shoe unclipped from the pedal fast enough, and down I went on my left knee. Aching from the minor fall, I limped the bike forward while the dogs just watched. Once I got far enough away, I began pedaling on, but I wasn't happy with this start to the day.
Rolling through Nelsonville and seeing nothing, I continued until the town of Industry. At the Shell station there, I met a nice lady who was working the register. She and I talked about the hot weather, the MS150 ride that comes through each year between Houston and Austin, and how she never feels like doing her gardening when she leaves the station. Trading yard work for transportation entered my mind. ;-)
In Willow Springs, I stopped at another little store but only to "borrow some shade". I never went in, but outside i witnessed a mama cat moving her litter of kittens one by one to a perhaps safer spot free from either predators or human observers. Growing up on a farm this was a familiar site when us kids got a little too close for mama cats comfort.
Rek Hill was another sort of Nelsonville. Nothing there. In Fayetteville, I found a cute downtown with B&B's but rather unfriendly people at the little store I stopped at. One word answers and no eye contact was all I got from the attendant while I made small talk. Customers walking in never gave me the time of day. There will be better places ahead I am sure, and I was glad to leave while the attendant chose to come outside nearer the fuel pumps to smoke his cigarette.
After many miles of open road bordered by fields full of Texas longhorns, I was only 6 miles from La Grange when I pulled under some shade at Lonestar Truck Equipment. As I typically do, I go inside to let them know I am just hanging out in the front of their place for a little while to cool down. I was invited in "You sure you don't want to just come inside and enjoy the AC?" See, I thought, how quickly the day changes. There are friendly people everywhere if you look hard enough or just get lucky.
Inside I met Leah, the wife and co-owner with her husband Larry. That could've been Larry who invited me in as he left. Not sure. Anyway, Leah was eating lunch at a work table while her two cats, one midnight black in color and the other being a tabby, were lounging on the table in between moments of searching for attention. One of the work crew was also inside eating lunch and reading a book. Leah and I talked about my trip, and both she and the worker-guy agreed they couldn't bike the 6 miles left to La Grange let alone from Florida given the hills in the area. After a conversation about the slow economy, it's affect on the truck parts business, her cats and mine, all over a cold refreshing cola, she gave me a business card and asked me to send a postcard when I get to San Diego. "I'll probably forget about you until I get the postcard", she said "but then when it arrives, I'll say 'oh yeah, I remember him'."
Reaching the edge of La Grange, I called for motels. I found the Cottonwood Inn offered a place for around $35 and began pedaling in that direction. A little uncertain I was heading the right way, I rolled up to a Shell station where one of the three lady attendants was outside sweeping up and invited me in to cool down, knowing the Texas temperatures were about 5-10 degrees above normal right now. I couldn't say no to her, though I wasn't in need of a break quite yet. Inside I snacked on chicken tenders while sitting at a lunch booth that seems so common at these stations in the south. Shortly after, I biked through cute little downtown La Grange, crossed the Colorado River, and found myself at Cottonwood Inn, but due to the fact it looked sketchy, no one came to the desk when I continued to ring the bell, and there was a better looking motel across the street offering similar rates, I headed over to the River Valley Motor Inn, of course without the motor part.
At the River Valley Motor Inn, I got a discounted room on the recently remodeled first floor, and made use of my 2pm arrival here by doing laundry in the machines they offered, and planning my route in the largest room I have had since I started. Seemed luxurious in a "I just biked 1,000 miles" sort of way.
A chicken pasta dinner across the street at La Marina restaurant, followed by a telephone interview with Nancy Quick of the Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune (my hometown newspaper), a short nap later in the refreshing AC-filled room, and I felt a ton better than I did before the interview. I hope the interview didn't go too badly though I know my spirit was temporarily beaten down by the sun and heat over the last two days.
After a 1/2 mile walk to McDonalds for a Quarter Pounder and a return trip to the motel, I spoke with the night attendant about what route she suggested to get to Bastrop the next day. She advised State Road 71 rather than the windy hilly ACA route since I was back in a town on the predesignated route now. When I asked about a shoulder on SR 71, she replied "Oh no, there's not much room, but people here are aware of cyclists because of the MS150 ride each year, so you'll be fine if you're riding during daylight." I used the satellite images provided by googlemaps online using the computer in the lobby and I verified it was a divided 4 lane highway the entire way to Bastrop and I should be fine.
start time: 7:30am
end time: 2:00pm
time on bike: 3:50:08
mileage: 44.94 miles
avg speed: 11.72 mph
max speed: 27.42 mph
calories: 3,040
conditions: Hot, cloudless sky. 92F. Familiar wind from SW. All hills on Highway 159.
After some much needed rest, I started my day at Snoflake Donut in Bellville, grabbing a tasty ham and cheese croissant. This place was crazy busy but the line moved fast and the business is well run.
Turning in my key at the motel front desk, it was no surprise to see a new degenerate attendent asleep, making no effort to wake as I walked in and set the key down. He simply went back to sleep as if I had disturbed him.
After only a couple miles down Highway 159 following my 7:30am start, three dogs charged me from their yard. They were running perpendicular to me and would surely catch me. I chose Oris's advice and stopped on a dime. They stopped as well. The trouble was that I couldn't get my left shoe unclipped from the pedal fast enough, and down I went on my left knee. Aching from the minor fall, I limped the bike forward while the dogs just watched. Once I got far enough away, I began pedaling on, but I wasn't happy with this start to the day.
Rolling through Nelsonville and seeing nothing, I continued until the town of Industry. At the Shell station there, I met a nice lady who was working the register. She and I talked about the hot weather, the MS150 ride that comes through each year between Houston and Austin, and how she never feels like doing her gardening when she leaves the station. Trading yard work for transportation entered my mind. ;-)
In Willow Springs, I stopped at another little store but only to "borrow some shade". I never went in, but outside i witnessed a mama cat moving her litter of kittens one by one to a perhaps safer spot free from either predators or human observers. Growing up on a farm this was a familiar site when us kids got a little too close for mama cats comfort.
Rek Hill was another sort of Nelsonville. Nothing there. In Fayetteville, I found a cute downtown with B&B's but rather unfriendly people at the little store I stopped at. One word answers and no eye contact was all I got from the attendant while I made small talk. Customers walking in never gave me the time of day. There will be better places ahead I am sure, and I was glad to leave while the attendant chose to come outside nearer the fuel pumps to smoke his cigarette.
After many miles of open road bordered by fields full of Texas longhorns, I was only 6 miles from La Grange when I pulled under some shade at Lonestar Truck Equipment. As I typically do, I go inside to let them know I am just hanging out in the front of their place for a little while to cool down. I was invited in "You sure you don't want to just come inside and enjoy the AC?" See, I thought, how quickly the day changes. There are friendly people everywhere if you look hard enough or just get lucky.
Inside I met Leah, the wife and co-owner with her husband Larry. That could've been Larry who invited me in as he left. Not sure. Anyway, Leah was eating lunch at a work table while her two cats, one midnight black in color and the other being a tabby, were lounging on the table in between moments of searching for attention. One of the work crew was also inside eating lunch and reading a book. Leah and I talked about my trip, and both she and the worker-guy agreed they couldn't bike the 6 miles left to La Grange let alone from Florida given the hills in the area. After a conversation about the slow economy, it's affect on the truck parts business, her cats and mine, all over a cold refreshing cola, she gave me a business card and asked me to send a postcard when I get to San Diego. "I'll probably forget about you until I get the postcard", she said "but then when it arrives, I'll say 'oh yeah, I remember him'."
Reaching the edge of La Grange, I called for motels. I found the Cottonwood Inn offered a place for around $35 and began pedaling in that direction. A little uncertain I was heading the right way, I rolled up to a Shell station where one of the three lady attendants was outside sweeping up and invited me in to cool down, knowing the Texas temperatures were about 5-10 degrees above normal right now. I couldn't say no to her, though I wasn't in need of a break quite yet. Inside I snacked on chicken tenders while sitting at a lunch booth that seems so common at these stations in the south. Shortly after, I biked through cute little downtown La Grange, crossed the Colorado River, and found myself at Cottonwood Inn, but due to the fact it looked sketchy, no one came to the desk when I continued to ring the bell, and there was a better looking motel across the street offering similar rates, I headed over to the River Valley Motor Inn, of course without the motor part.
At the River Valley Motor Inn, I got a discounted room on the recently remodeled first floor, and made use of my 2pm arrival here by doing laundry in the machines they offered, and planning my route in the largest room I have had since I started. Seemed luxurious in a "I just biked 1,000 miles" sort of way.
A chicken pasta dinner across the street at La Marina restaurant, followed by a telephone interview with Nancy Quick of the Wisconsin Rapids Daily Tribune (my hometown newspaper), a short nap later in the refreshing AC-filled room, and I felt a ton better than I did before the interview. I hope the interview didn't go too badly though I know my spirit was temporarily beaten down by the sun and heat over the last two days.
After a 1/2 mile walk to McDonalds for a Quarter Pounder and a return trip to the motel, I spoke with the night attendant about what route she suggested to get to Bastrop the next day. She advised State Road 71 rather than the windy hilly ACA route since I was back in a town on the predesignated route now. When I asked about a shoulder on SR 71, she replied "Oh no, there's not much room, but people here are aware of cyclists because of the MS150 ride each year, so you'll be fine if you're riding during daylight." I used the satellite images provided by googlemaps online using the computer in the lobby and I verified it was a divided 4 lane highway the entire way to Bastrop and I should be fine.
start time: 7:30am
end time: 2:00pm
time on bike: 3:50:08
mileage: 44.94 miles
avg speed: 11.72 mph
max speed: 27.42 mph
calories: 3,040
conditions: Hot, cloudless sky. 92F. Familiar wind from SW. All hills on Highway 159.
Beaumont, TX to Bellville, TX (68 miles)
Monday May 19, 2008
Awake at 6am, it felt like I could lay there for days, but since I was sleeping in Gus's room, and recalling my own territorial issues when I was his age, I knew I had to give him his room back. After a bagel breakfast, I left the accomodating Wellner family at 7:30am pedaling from the center of Houston following the route mapped out the night before.
7:30am Houston traffic was pretty fierce, but, as Rob put it, there is not a good time to bike through Houston, so off I went taking my time and taking sidewalks where I could.
Memorial Park in Houston gave me an opportunity to address what I was too lazy to address earlier. I checked and filled the tires this morning, and that rear tire was very low. I had pumped it up anxious to start my Houston departure, but just like a day or two ago, it felt like I was pulling more than the 90 pounds my bike weighs. In Memorial Park, I chose to check the tire again. Finding it low, my instinct was pump it up and move on, but I realized there would be no better place to inspect and repair it than here on the lush green grass in the shade in the cooler temps provided this early in the day. Finding two small wires having pierced the nearly impenetrable Schwalbe Marathon Supreme tire, I patched the tube and was set to go again. These wires are suspected to be from blown retreads I always see on the side of the road and sometimes have to pedal near. Note: stay far and wide away from these things when you can.
As I pedaled off, a girl who had been walking by earlier when I was repairing it, saw me on her return walk. As I said "back on the road" to her, she exclaimed "you got it, that's awesome!" providing a morale boost for me.
Once I reached George Bush Park, I found a paved track going all the way around the reservoir there. Taking it part way before finding an exit that would lead through the Northwest subsurbs, two female walkers both smiled wide and said "hi" in an excited way as I passed. Houston girls seem pretty friendly.
At FM-529 (FM is a farm road referred to as FM "farm to market"), I took a break from the 11:30am heat and caught some shade outside Walgreens, the last sign of a city I would experience for the rest of the ride today. Asking a woman coming out of the store "what is the nearest little town down this road?", she responded "Oh no, there is nothing down THAT road, not for a long long way." Encouraged to get more water from Walgreens, I pedaled off around 12:30pm.
FM-529: How I grew to hate you.
The lady was right. There was nothing along this road except farms, longhorn steer, and an occassional industrial business set back far enough from the road it appeared to be less than welcoming. The temp was 92F, high humidity, headwinds 14mph with 27mph gusts. Thoughts of overnighting on the edge of Houston came to mind, but I thought I had better be able to ride in this if I was ever going to get through the desert. After many miles, I found brief shade inside a chain link fence in Brookshireville and I cooled off before continuing.
Crossing the Brazos River, with a fairly high water level, was the reason for only a few route options to Bellville. On occasion there would be an interesting sight like this VW bug graveyard I passed.
Further up and many hard-earned miles later, I saw a ranch driveway lined with trees on each side. Knowing this landscaped entrance offered an opportunity to cool off again, I pulled in and was greeted by two curious mares.
Further up the road at 4pm, I found a Baptist church with a very small shaded canopy entrance. Taking the opportunity to fill the water bottles from the hose laying haphazardly in the grass, I could now continue through the hills that greeted me since entering Austin County (as if the heat, headwinds, etc weren't enough).
By 5:30pm, and only maybe 6 miles from Bellville, I finally saw a small store I had grown accustomed to seeing so frequently each day on this trip. Puzzled by the many pickup trucks parked outside, I parked my bike against a tree and walked in. Greeted by a 2-tooth owner who hassled me with some crack about "dress code", I bet that he was joking, unsure as facial gestures are less defined with only two teeth, and continued walking in. Turns out, in addition to being a neighborhood store, it was also a bar. That explained all the trucks outside. I walked up and sat at the only open stool at the 3-stool bar. The place was occupied by two groups: those with white skin wearing caps and jeans or bibs sitting at the tables, and a two-person group of Mexicans at the bar. After ordering, I started making small talk with one of the Mexican guys next to me. Whatever he said, I repeated his response out loud in Spanish (I do this translation sometimes in my head to keep sharp, but this time it was out loud). He smiled. His English was choppy despite his 15 years living in nearby Sealy working as a mechanico. We began speaking in Spanish. He introduced himself as Jose Luis, and his friend who spoke better English was named Philipe. They could not believe how far I had pedaled so far on the trip and insisted they would buy me whatever drinks I wanted: "When you drink with a Mexican", they said "your drinks are paid for". Generous guys. I stuck with softdrinks knowing I wasn't finished for the day yet. Our conversation was good and covered topics of the frontera (border), safety in Mexico, living illegally in the US, and how people of all races have similar values: "I like beer, you like beer, we are the same", I told them. This whole time, i think the cap and bib wearing faction was not thrilled I made friends with the "wetbacks" as the Mexicans told me this is how they are referred to. A large beast of a man came in dressed similarly to the whiteys in the bar, bought something from the store, and said "Que pasa, amigo?" to Jose Luis but in a stern tone. I thought, "Huh. So some of these guys DO talk with the Mexicans here. How nice." But his poor spanish was abandoned shortly after and he continued to shout at this guy actually making some threats near the end of his rant before leaving. My new Mexican friends were puzzled. Despite the fact Philipe "knows" English, it is like my knowledge of Spanish. If you talk fast enough, I don't know a thing. They both asked me to explain in Spanish. As I was in the process of explaining in Spanish what just happened and why Bubba was so mad, the 2-tooth owner left his chair at one of the tables with his friends and came to the bar "Listen. You fellas have to go. That man isn't happy. I don't want no trouble. He's coming back here, and when he does, there will be trouble if you are still here. You better go or I will call the police, and if you are illegal, you don't want me to call the police." I told the owner they didn't understand what just happened and I was explaining it to them. "You don't need to be involved in this. You go, too. You get on your bike and get out of here." I managed to convince the fellas it was in their best interest to leave and I was leaving, too. In the dirt parking lot outside, there were brief goodbyes. I had at one time thought it might be nice to stay in touch with these guys or at least get a photo, but that opportunity was lost.
The argument:
Bubba's wife was in the bar earlier. I think it was her that was just leaving when I arrived, and maybe why the stool was free at the bar. She had given me the eye on her way out, and I had thought immediately that she was the local tramp. When she went home, she told Bubba what Jose Luis had said to her (sometimes the Mexican approach to women is different than the American approach, especially with limited volcabulary), and that aggravated Bubba. He then came to the store to give the "wetback" a piece of his mind and maybe more. Seeing Jose had a Mexican friend with him, as well as me sitting next to him, I think he chose to leave it at words until seeing him again later. Thus the owner kicked us out.
Note: Mexican-American relations in these rural poorly educated areas of Texas are not good. I saw the disrespect the 2-tooth owner showed to Jose Luis and Philipe when they simply ordered drinks. And after witnessing this incident, though not knowing Jose Luis's words to Bubba's wife, I now understand why the two of them told me "your mind works differently than people here" as we had become friends and they learned that I studied in Mexico and have a sister there married to a Mexican guy.
Hurrying off, I pedaled the remaining distance to the overpriced only-one-in-town Hotel Wayne in Bellville, TX. Upon arrival I was told by a cleaner looking cap & jeans wearing man that he would've run me over in the hills approaching town if I hadn't worn that bright orange reflective safety vest. "It caught the sun just right and I saw you, otherwise with the way the sun was coming down, I woulda hit you". To which the dentally-challenged motel attendent behind the desk said "We call you a Texas speedbump, that's all". I worked all day long to be here???
After checking in, showering, being clearly discouraged by the motel desk attendent from eating at the Mexican restaurant down the street and instead being directed to the local Dairy Queen, I went to Las Lomas Mexican restaurant. "We got enough Mexican restaurants and they're building more like we need another", he said, clearly showing his opinion of the people that originally inhabited this land.
At Las Lomas, I met my waitress, Aremi, a girl originally from Mexico City and who had recently moved from Houston to Bellville to be closer to her job here. Aremi had a great personality and we spoke in both English and Spanish while I enjoyed my meal. I am not likely to be in Bellville anytime soon, but if I am I will stop in at Las Lomas to say hi.
start time: 7:30am
end time: 7:00pm
time on bike: 5:15:47
miles: 67.83
avg speed: 12.89 mph
max speed: 26.95 mph
calories: 4,901
conditions: hot, cloudless sky, 92F, wind from SW 14mph, gusts 27mph, hills began in Austin County.
Awake at 6am, it felt like I could lay there for days, but since I was sleeping in Gus's room, and recalling my own territorial issues when I was his age, I knew I had to give him his room back. After a bagel breakfast, I left the accomodating Wellner family at 7:30am pedaling from the center of Houston following the route mapped out the night before.
7:30am Houston traffic was pretty fierce, but, as Rob put it, there is not a good time to bike through Houston, so off I went taking my time and taking sidewalks where I could.
Memorial Park in Houston gave me an opportunity to address what I was too lazy to address earlier. I checked and filled the tires this morning, and that rear tire was very low. I had pumped it up anxious to start my Houston departure, but just like a day or two ago, it felt like I was pulling more than the 90 pounds my bike weighs. In Memorial Park, I chose to check the tire again. Finding it low, my instinct was pump it up and move on, but I realized there would be no better place to inspect and repair it than here on the lush green grass in the shade in the cooler temps provided this early in the day. Finding two small wires having pierced the nearly impenetrable Schwalbe Marathon Supreme tire, I patched the tube and was set to go again. These wires are suspected to be from blown retreads I always see on the side of the road and sometimes have to pedal near. Note: stay far and wide away from these things when you can.
As I pedaled off, a girl who had been walking by earlier when I was repairing it, saw me on her return walk. As I said "back on the road" to her, she exclaimed "you got it, that's awesome!" providing a morale boost for me.
Once I reached George Bush Park, I found a paved track going all the way around the reservoir there. Taking it part way before finding an exit that would lead through the Northwest subsurbs, two female walkers both smiled wide and said "hi" in an excited way as I passed. Houston girls seem pretty friendly.
At FM-529 (FM is a farm road referred to as FM "farm to market"), I took a break from the 11:30am heat and caught some shade outside Walgreens, the last sign of a city I would experience for the rest of the ride today. Asking a woman coming out of the store "what is the nearest little town down this road?", she responded "Oh no, there is nothing down THAT road, not for a long long way." Encouraged to get more water from Walgreens, I pedaled off around 12:30pm.
FM-529: How I grew to hate you.
The lady was right. There was nothing along this road except farms, longhorn steer, and an occassional industrial business set back far enough from the road it appeared to be less than welcoming. The temp was 92F, high humidity, headwinds 14mph with 27mph gusts. Thoughts of overnighting on the edge of Houston came to mind, but I thought I had better be able to ride in this if I was ever going to get through the desert. After many miles, I found brief shade inside a chain link fence in Brookshireville and I cooled off before continuing.
Crossing the Brazos River, with a fairly high water level, was the reason for only a few route options to Bellville. On occasion there would be an interesting sight like this VW bug graveyard I passed.
Further up and many hard-earned miles later, I saw a ranch driveway lined with trees on each side. Knowing this landscaped entrance offered an opportunity to cool off again, I pulled in and was greeted by two curious mares.
Further up the road at 4pm, I found a Baptist church with a very small shaded canopy entrance. Taking the opportunity to fill the water bottles from the hose laying haphazardly in the grass, I could now continue through the hills that greeted me since entering Austin County (as if the heat, headwinds, etc weren't enough).
By 5:30pm, and only maybe 6 miles from Bellville, I finally saw a small store I had grown accustomed to seeing so frequently each day on this trip. Puzzled by the many pickup trucks parked outside, I parked my bike against a tree and walked in. Greeted by a 2-tooth owner who hassled me with some crack about "dress code", I bet that he was joking, unsure as facial gestures are less defined with only two teeth, and continued walking in. Turns out, in addition to being a neighborhood store, it was also a bar. That explained all the trucks outside. I walked up and sat at the only open stool at the 3-stool bar. The place was occupied by two groups: those with white skin wearing caps and jeans or bibs sitting at the tables, and a two-person group of Mexicans at the bar. After ordering, I started making small talk with one of the Mexican guys next to me. Whatever he said, I repeated his response out loud in Spanish (I do this translation sometimes in my head to keep sharp, but this time it was out loud). He smiled. His English was choppy despite his 15 years living in nearby Sealy working as a mechanico. We began speaking in Spanish. He introduced himself as Jose Luis, and his friend who spoke better English was named Philipe. They could not believe how far I had pedaled so far on the trip and insisted they would buy me whatever drinks I wanted: "When you drink with a Mexican", they said "your drinks are paid for". Generous guys. I stuck with softdrinks knowing I wasn't finished for the day yet. Our conversation was good and covered topics of the frontera (border), safety in Mexico, living illegally in the US, and how people of all races have similar values: "I like beer, you like beer, we are the same", I told them. This whole time, i think the cap and bib wearing faction was not thrilled I made friends with the "wetbacks" as the Mexicans told me this is how they are referred to. A large beast of a man came in dressed similarly to the whiteys in the bar, bought something from the store, and said "Que pasa, amigo?" to Jose Luis but in a stern tone. I thought, "Huh. So some of these guys DO talk with the Mexicans here. How nice." But his poor spanish was abandoned shortly after and he continued to shout at this guy actually making some threats near the end of his rant before leaving. My new Mexican friends were puzzled. Despite the fact Philipe "knows" English, it is like my knowledge of Spanish. If you talk fast enough, I don't know a thing. They both asked me to explain in Spanish. As I was in the process of explaining in Spanish what just happened and why Bubba was so mad, the 2-tooth owner left his chair at one of the tables with his friends and came to the bar "Listen. You fellas have to go. That man isn't happy. I don't want no trouble. He's coming back here, and when he does, there will be trouble if you are still here. You better go or I will call the police, and if you are illegal, you don't want me to call the police." I told the owner they didn't understand what just happened and I was explaining it to them. "You don't need to be involved in this. You go, too. You get on your bike and get out of here." I managed to convince the fellas it was in their best interest to leave and I was leaving, too. In the dirt parking lot outside, there were brief goodbyes. I had at one time thought it might be nice to stay in touch with these guys or at least get a photo, but that opportunity was lost.
The argument:
Bubba's wife was in the bar earlier. I think it was her that was just leaving when I arrived, and maybe why the stool was free at the bar. She had given me the eye on her way out, and I had thought immediately that she was the local tramp. When she went home, she told Bubba what Jose Luis had said to her (sometimes the Mexican approach to women is different than the American approach, especially with limited volcabulary), and that aggravated Bubba. He then came to the store to give the "wetback" a piece of his mind and maybe more. Seeing Jose had a Mexican friend with him, as well as me sitting next to him, I think he chose to leave it at words until seeing him again later. Thus the owner kicked us out.
Note: Mexican-American relations in these rural poorly educated areas of Texas are not good. I saw the disrespect the 2-tooth owner showed to Jose Luis and Philipe when they simply ordered drinks. And after witnessing this incident, though not knowing Jose Luis's words to Bubba's wife, I now understand why the two of them told me "your mind works differently than people here" as we had become friends and they learned that I studied in Mexico and have a sister there married to a Mexican guy.
Hurrying off, I pedaled the remaining distance to the overpriced only-one-in-town Hotel Wayne in Bellville, TX. Upon arrival I was told by a cleaner looking cap & jeans wearing man that he would've run me over in the hills approaching town if I hadn't worn that bright orange reflective safety vest. "It caught the sun just right and I saw you, otherwise with the way the sun was coming down, I woulda hit you". To which the dentally-challenged motel attendent behind the desk said "We call you a Texas speedbump, that's all". I worked all day long to be here???
After checking in, showering, being clearly discouraged by the motel desk attendent from eating at the Mexican restaurant down the street and instead being directed to the local Dairy Queen, I went to Las Lomas Mexican restaurant. "We got enough Mexican restaurants and they're building more like we need another", he said, clearly showing his opinion of the people that originally inhabited this land.
At Las Lomas, I met my waitress, Aremi, a girl originally from Mexico City and who had recently moved from Houston to Bellville to be closer to her job here. Aremi had a great personality and we spoke in both English and Spanish while I enjoyed my meal. I am not likely to be in Bellville anytime soon, but if I am I will stop in at Las Lomas to say hi.
start time: 7:30am
end time: 7:00pm
time on bike: 5:15:47
miles: 67.83
avg speed: 12.89 mph
max speed: 26.95 mph
calories: 4,901
conditions: hot, cloudless sky, 92F, wind from SW 14mph, gusts 27mph, hills began in Austin County.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Beaumont, TX to Houston, TX (30 miles)
Sunday May 18, 2008
I "slept in" until 7am.
Two reasons: 1) Kevin told me he would give me a boost out of Beaumont on my way to Houston. I like this as I don't have to deal with city traffic that way. 2) Michelle wanted to make breakfast for me and peace-girl.
Kevin showed up with his shy son Blake. Cool little boy who began answering my questions by telling his Dad the answer and telling his Dad to tell me. After a while, and a few friend making names like "cookie face", Blake may not have realized that he was now talking directly to me.
Kevin and Blake gave me a lift along Highway 90 to the Dayton area. I started biking around 11:30am. The shoulder was good the whole way into Houston. My plan: Take Highway 90 until it ended. I stuck to that plan longer than I should've. I found myself on the Freeway riding in the breakdown lane. How it became a freeway all of a sudden, I am not sure, but it did and I was there.
At the 8 Beltway and end of 90 Freeway, my mind was fried. I found a new residential development in it's infancy and sat against a fence in a bit of shade while talking with Audrey. I remember laughing with her and the joking helped bring back the sanity the freeway temporarily took away.
Studying the Houston detail portion of the Texas state map, I found a way toward the center of the city where I was almost sure my friends Rob and Julia Wellner and their son Gus lived. As I approached the 610 Beltway on Wallisville Road, they called and agreed to meet me at a chosen McDonalds.
After I had studied my maps for a while at McDonalds, the Wellner crew arrived wisking me back to their place where I was able to shower, do laundry, catch up with them over dinner, and plan the route out of Houston in the morning.
There was no energy left for updating the blog despite their offer to use their computer. I sometimes need to choose between sleep and blog updates. Up until now, I have been a dedicated blogger, but from now on sleep wins.
start time: 11:30am
end time: 3pm
time on bike: 2:15:14
mileage: 30 miles
avg speed: 11.83 mph
max speed: 19.75 mph
calories: 1,787
conditions: hot, clear, maybe 87F
I "slept in" until 7am.
Two reasons: 1) Kevin told me he would give me a boost out of Beaumont on my way to Houston. I like this as I don't have to deal with city traffic that way. 2) Michelle wanted to make breakfast for me and peace-girl.
Kevin showed up with his shy son Blake. Cool little boy who began answering my questions by telling his Dad the answer and telling his Dad to tell me. After a while, and a few friend making names like "cookie face", Blake may not have realized that he was now talking directly to me.
Kevin and Blake gave me a lift along Highway 90 to the Dayton area. I started biking around 11:30am. The shoulder was good the whole way into Houston. My plan: Take Highway 90 until it ended. I stuck to that plan longer than I should've. I found myself on the Freeway riding in the breakdown lane. How it became a freeway all of a sudden, I am not sure, but it did and I was there.
At the 8 Beltway and end of 90 Freeway, my mind was fried. I found a new residential development in it's infancy and sat against a fence in a bit of shade while talking with Audrey. I remember laughing with her and the joking helped bring back the sanity the freeway temporarily took away.
Studying the Houston detail portion of the Texas state map, I found a way toward the center of the city where I was almost sure my friends Rob and Julia Wellner and their son Gus lived. As I approached the 610 Beltway on Wallisville Road, they called and agreed to meet me at a chosen McDonalds.
After I had studied my maps for a while at McDonalds, the Wellner crew arrived wisking me back to their place where I was able to shower, do laundry, catch up with them over dinner, and plan the route out of Houston in the morning.
There was no energy left for updating the blog despite their offer to use their computer. I sometimes need to choose between sleep and blog updates. Up until now, I have been a dedicated blogger, but from now on sleep wins.
start time: 11:30am
end time: 3pm
time on bike: 2:15:14
mileage: 30 miles
avg speed: 11.83 mph
max speed: 19.75 mph
calories: 1,787
conditions: hot, clear, maybe 87F
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