Local Color

Still in Texas

The ride out of Texas couldn't have been better: warm, sunny, smooth flat road and a tail wind - we were really flying. An effortless day of 65 miles. The roadside was thick forest over wet and swampy ground.

Picture this: We're standing at a gas station talking to a lively preacher. The preacher has given an account of his life. Coming from the lowly position of an unemployed beer drinker, cigarette smoker and crackhead he found the Lord and is now blessed with 2 cars, 2 pickups, 3 sit on lawn mowers, an edge trimmer and most recently, a horse. He stands with his hands inside his dungerees, maybe in his trouser pockets but this is uncertain. His face is animated as he tells how his mama has always been there for him and how he came to start his church "The House of Prayer for all People". He confides that the first blessing he received was the curing of his syphilis, then extends his hand in a friendly gesture of parting. Question is: do you shake the preacher's hand?

Tonight we are being hosted at the museum in Merryville, just a few miles into Louisiana. Out tents are pitched on the lawn and the town hosts laid on a huge spread of gumbo, potato salad and banana pudding. Lots of local kids visited in costume and collected bags of Halloween candy. We socialized with the mayor and Felix demonstrated a special party skill (photo to follow on future blog post).

The Prentice model 210D

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The End of Texas

The Super 8, traditional style rendered in plastic.

As we met for breakfast and watched The Weather Channel announcers doing their best to make weather riveting viewing, the group voted to take the day off and wait out the storm in the comfort of the hotel. In their defense, the media warnings were dire and part of our route was closed due to flooding, but I don't know how I am supposed to regale you all with stories of danger and high adventure if we run to a hotel every time the government issues so much as a flash flood warning.



So we did what we always do on our days off and headed to a bike store. The nearest store being in Beaumont, we rented a car and so saw a bit of country along the way. With all due respect to the good and well intentioned people of the Kountze/Silsbee/Beaumont area, this really is the bottom of the barrel when it comes to urbanised areas. If you take a group of people and some land, and then completely remove all traces of culture, this is what you get. I suspect the interesting culture is underground here; not apparent on the surface. Perhaps it exists in the churches, of which there seems to be at least one for each house. It is ironic that a place with such an excess of churches looks so close to my conception of hell.



The impending doom didn't materialize for us and the forecast is for 6 days of sunny and warm weather, so the team is refreshed and looking forward to tomorrow's pleasant conditions and our first new state in 1000 miles of riding. .



One of my strongest memories of Texas will be as a zoological lesson written in road kill. We saw deer, javelinas, rabbits, a variety of dogs and cats (wild and domestic), snakes from 5' to 5", many frogs and toads, turtles (which don't look pretty when crushed), butterflies, dragonflies and cicadas, tarantulas, many caterpillars in brilliant colors, huge buzzards and small sparrow-like birds, the shell of an armadillo, and the infamous nutria (basically a rat the size of a dog that lives in water). The incredible variety of creatures a metaphor for the diversity of everything in this Lone Star state.



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Doom Delayed

The store at Romayor

We had every kind of weather today, but other than some minor doom in the morning, the heavens stayed closed. By the morning the forecast had dropped to 1" of rain. By lunchtime the locals were warning us of 5" in 12 hours starting ASAP and we even heard a 7" warning. Mega-doom portended.

In stark contrast to the forecast, the day was mostly hot and sticky. Other than a few torrential downpours in the morning, it didn't so much rain as precipitate; water spontaneously appearing out of the thick humidity. Wind came from every direction; sometimes pushing us from behind, sometimes the left and sometimes the right, sometimes slamming us from the front and almost stopping us in our tracks. The clouds were moving fast. Dark low clouds screaming across the sky under a canopy of higher white clouds moving in a different direction. Very occasionally a small patch of blue would appear, or the sun would break through and cast shadows through the wet forest. But mostly it was just hot and sticky.

We found a real gem in the store at Romayor today: beer in camouflaged cans. The brilliance of this is overwhelming. Just like other brands you can drink the contents to improve your aim, but these cans don't reflect and scare away the deer. The invention of the camouflaged beer can does seem to be associated with a rise in handheld GPS sales though, because once you put these puppies down, you AIN'T finding them again. This photo shows a particularly nice example: Miller High Life - The Champagne of Beer. This is clearly marketed at a more sophisticated hunting party, a vice-presidential outing perhaps.

So at the time of posting it is not raining, but the forecast remains the same: tomorrow d00m, Texas sized. However it had better come tomorrow because that will be our last day in Texas, closing the 2nd third of the trip. If it comes the day after, it will have to be Louisiana sized doom.



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Impending Doom

Today's ride was cold, the sun never really breaking through the clouds. With 70 miles to complete through rolling hills we pushed on, keeping the breaks short. We passed over the north end of Lake Conroe, about 60 miles north of Houston.

The talk of the day was the forecast: thunderstorms tonight, 2" of rain tomorrow with flood warnings, more heavy rain tomorrow night. With wet tents from the heavy dew last night and a rainy ride tomorrow, people were not looking forward to camping out in the state park tonight.

Various alternative scenarios were thrown out including the San Jacinto motel near the state park (which turned out to be closed due to a fire) or riding on 15 miles to the motel at Shepard (which turned out to be closed for unspecified reasons).

However we managed to secure indoor accommodations at The Lodge at the campground. On arrival we discovered "The Lodge" was not a 5 star luxury hotel but instead a one room group use space, but everyone was more than happy just to have a roof over our heads for the coming deluge. John V got a fire going and I supervised dinner (Mac and Cheese - always a camp favorite) — it was actually very comfortable. Later we had little celebration for Dolores (from Greenwich Village, New York City) who turned 67 today.

Then everyone started getting mentally prepared for what promises to be a very difficult 65 mile ride tomorrow.

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Signs of the South

The day dawned clear and cold, grass bent over laden with moisture. We set off as the sun was rising above the trees, revealing bucolic pastures under blue skies. Fields of tall grass, white painted fences and small ponds under oak trees (some with park benches aesthetically positioned on the banks).

The riding was easy, the road rising and falling in gentle rollers. We passed some plantation style houses and historic looking towns (likely pulled together more recently from rescued farm buildings). We crossed a swollen brown river, swirling with mud and debris like a torrent of hot chocolate and cinnamon sticks.

When we arrived at our campground it was a sodden field with pools of water occupying the dips, and mosquitos occupying the water, so the search was on for slight rises in ground level big enough to pitch a tent on. There were large spiders hanging around — in the barely functional shower, for example. It was quickly voted "worst accommodations so far" by the group.


Jim has an interesting post today about what it takes to sing the Blues.


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The Eye of the Storm

Yesterday's weather predictions came true and at 3am all hell broke loose. There were heart stopping thunder claps and lightning lit up the tent like paparazzi flash bulbs. The rain was coming down hard, pounding the tent.

When the dim dawn came the lightning and thunder had ceased but the rain continued unabated. We assembled like drowned rats under the shallow eve of the toilet block for breakfast, then had a group meeting in the men's room (the women were given a special dispensation to attend). Our plan for the day was to ride to an RV park about 60 miles away and camp there, but we decided we would meet up in the town of La Grange about 40 miles away to reassess the situation.

So we struck the tents in the pouring rain and set off. The route took us through lovely state forest, the water pooling on the sides of the road and flooding low lying areas. About 10 miles in we came to an intersection across which the road was completely blocked by rushing water. Luckily a lady in a jeep was passing by and told us the only open route was to turn right and ride to Highway 71 and take that into La Grange, which is what we did.

Luckily the 71 had a wide shoulder and beautifully smooth surface, so with some tail wind we had a fast ride through the rain. We arrived around noon and encamped ourselves at the Subway to eat and wait for our leader, Dave, to arrive. Given that it was still raining hard, everyone's gear was wet and some people had gotten quite cold, there was a strong leaning in the group towards staying in La Grange and using one of our allowed motel nights.

Waiting for Dave

After a while we moved to the Latte on the Square, where we continued to wait. When Dave arrived about 2pm a quick vote was taken, some calls were made and a few minutes later were around the corner at a motel. The proprietor was very friendly, bringing around a bowl of candy as we unloaded our bikes and doing our laundry for us, but was clearly nervous when he realized our bikes would staying with us inside our rooms, and that tents were being pitched inside the rooms to dry them out [editor's note: there was no need for his concern since we are all very tidy and take great care not to get anything dirty or damage anything].

By early evening the rain had stopped and we all went out to dinner at the Guadalajara Mexican Restaurant. The forecast is for fine weather tomorrow, but more rain after that. Well, one day at a time.



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Moving On

A quiet and relaxed ride today. With only 38 miles to ride from Austin to Bastrop, we weren't in any particular hurry. We had a slow start, leaving the hotel around 10, with the route quickly taking us out of the city. The rest of the day we rode through the mostly flat lands on the outskirts of town.

We are camping tonight in Bastrop State Park. Its nice to be camping in a park setting again. The forecast is for heavy rain late tonight and through the morning, so we're taking some precautions like making sure the tents are well staked and all gear is under cover, having our map meeting and packing our lunches tonight.





Rider Profile

The German rocket machine has three parts: a Hase hybrid tandem, Jenny and Felix. Both 29 years old, Jenny has just finished her PhD in math at Technische Universitaet Darmstadt and Felix is an engineer at the same university working on sub-micron gyroscopes. Now for the most important question: who sits in front and who behind? They switch, spending about equal time in each position. A match made in heaven.

http://www.radwg.de

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Beso de la Muerte

Beso de la Muerte: calvados, yellow chartreuse, benedictine, chichicapa mezcal


I'll miss Austin. This is one totally awesome town. So much life and the kiss of death.

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Austin by Day and Night

Spent the day getting parts at REI and getting to know Austin. Amy's Ice Cream was good the first and second visits. Visited the Gensler Austin office and had lunch with Matthew B. A beer at lunch, then a cocktail at Cuba Libre. Before we knew it we had come down with bad case of the Blues which kept us up until late.

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Why Texas is Green

When lying in a tent light rain sounds like heavy rain, and when the rain really does get heavy, you start wondering if Noah is going to show up. That's what it was like all last night. By morning there was a 1/2" of standing water surrounding the tent - I was still dry and cozy inside though. And then as if on cue, at 6:30am the rain stopped. Packing a wet tent is OK, however bundling sticky mud in with it is just plain gross.



Starting out, the road through the countryside into Austin was heavily trafficked, narrow and winding. The meager shoulder was broken up and pot holed making it more treacherous than riding in the carriage way. The wind was blustery and the sky threatened more rain, but other than that it was a very nice ride. We have passed through three lovely quaint towns: Blanco yesterday, Wimberley and Buda today. Sweet.



In Austin we are staying at the Rodeway Inn, 2900 I35, Austin, TX which is one or two steps down from the mud-soaked field we stayed in last night. Yes, two steps down. We went out to first-dinner at the Ironworks BBQ, then second-dinner on the rooftop bar of the Dizzy Rooster. Austin is the live music capitol of world, where the saying goes you can hear both types of music: Country AND Western. We heard played neither but the bands we saw rocked the house. Double sweet.

We lost a another rider today. She just decided to continue the trip, but on her own.



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Rain

Today we rode up and down steep hills through beautiful Texas ranchland scenery. Even though we dropped some elevation overall, we did 3000' of climbing - steep climbing in short bursts. Each mile had between 1 and 3 sharp descents followed by a steep climb. Each mile was hard won, and we did 60 of them. It was very beautiful, but difficult to enjoy with sweat stinging the eyes.

The weather was threatening all day but didn't break until after third-lunch (about 2pm). By the time it started bouncing off the road we were already safely under the porch of a bakery ready to go in and get some giant chocolate chip and pecan cookies. It remained dry for the last 15 miles but as soon as I pulled my tent out of its bag at the campground the clouds opened and the rain started falling in sheets. By the time I had my tent up there were pools of water inside, but nothing a packtowel couldn't fix, then off to the showers through the fresh mud.

A bonus is that the campground (an RV park, really) has a very nice covered common area with booth style seating and pool tables. It was a bar until they lost their liquor license recently. We are now hanging out after our dinner, listening to the rain pounding on the roof and contemplating what states our tents will be in when we venture back to them later and how wet we will get riding into the city of Austin tomorrow.

Half Way / Comfort

After another day in the hills, starting with 1 mile of 7% grade, we arrived at our camp in the town of Comfort. As well as being a nice sounding name, for us this marks the halfway point of the trip. 1540 miles, 33 days. We all went out to celebrate at Guenther's Creekside Grill (a German Creole fusion).

Along the way today we passed through beautiful ranchland where there was plenty of evidence of income, but not much of work. One of the ornate gateway's proclaimed its land to be "Heaven's Gate". I must admit if Heaven looked like that ranch, I'd be fine with it. Under the very large "Heaven's Gate" sign were two very prominent "Beware of the Dog" signs. There are way too many places to go with that juxtaposition than I could possibly approach here! Just a little down the road from Heaven's Gate was a ranch impressively titled "World's End". It had nailed up next to it "Private Property, Keep Out". I guess the end of the world will have to wait for the rest of us.

We dropped down into the Guadalupe River valley where the still, green water was overhung with grand old trees dipping the ends of their branches in the water. The grass was mowed along the banks and canoes were set out. Ropes hung in trees ready for laughing kids to splash into the water (we didn't see any kids though). It was truly an idyllic scene.

The country roads we have been travelling on through Texas have been very narrow but all the drivers have been extremely courteous, often waiting behind us until its safe to pass, then waving to us (with all five fingers extended, too).

As today, another long day tomorrow (nearly 70 miles). But tomorrow, as we leave Comfort, we have a forecast for rain.

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"There's hills in them there hills"

Today was a good hill riding day as we made our way through a steeply gorged landscape. The sides of the valleys were heavily wooded and plunged 1000 feet from tabletop plateaus to pastoral fields below. It made for a day of slow ascents and fast descents, but with great scenery and very little traffic it was enjoyable and seemed to fly by. The landscape is filled with American Oak and many of the ranch names riff on this theme with names like "One Oak", "Two Oak", "Red Oak", and "Blue Oak".
It was also a day of good food. After our breakfast at the camp we stopped at Leakey (pron. Lake-ee) for a huge and excellent Mexican lunch at Mama Chole's then on to Vanderpool where we bought drinks and pints of Blue Bell ice cream. For dinner Bob, a friend of Dave (our tour leader) brought massive quantities of Texas BBQ to the Lost Maples State Natural Area where we are camping. So everyone is now stuffed at least to satisfaction and perhaps a little past.
Tomorrow, another 70 miles of Texas hill country.

Foothills of the Hill Country

I slept like a baby, but others in the group were kept awake all night by a party in the trailer next to our camping spot. So what sort of people have all night parties in RV (aka trailer) parks in Del Rio, TX? Well, one of the more memorable quotes from the night's festivities: "Bill-lee, would you stawp your dawg humpin' my dawg's hee-ad?".

We left the RV park as early as possible this morning. We headed down the commercial strip but missed our turn and ended up in the "historic center". It exuded the melancholy decrepitude of town centers that were once vibrant and are now passed their last hope of survival. I wonder what will become of Del Rio: its center gone it will exist only as a commercial strip on Highway 90 populated by Motel 6, Burger King, Dairy Queen (and Sirloin Buffet), no hint that it has history longer than oldest franchise.

Out of town our route turned 90 degrees (we were going southeast along the Mexican border, we now head northeast towards Austin). This change of direction put the wind to our right side - for which everyone was thankful. As we were leaving town we rode for while with Ryan, Jon and Caleb, cyclists on the same route cross country route, who are raising money for Ryan's mission trip to South Africa. You can read more about their ride here:

http://changingone.com/2009/10/just-around-the-river-bend

As the day progressed, the scenery kept improving. We passed along roads fenced high on both sides. We believe these fences define leased hunting sections. The plan seems to be that people pay to use these pre-stocked sections. They then set out an animal feeder and sit nearby in a small tower and wait. Hmmmm, shooting confined domesticated animals at close range - is that really hunting?

The road narrowed and became hilly. Tall grass came right up to seal on both sides and there was very little traffic. Warm weather. Many butterflies of yellow, red, blue and black. The landscape freshened up with large vivid green trees and grass. Perfect conditions. We are riding into Texas Hill Country.

We did somewhere around 80 miles today. At the last 15 we made a sharp left turn and put the wind behind us for the ride into camp. Yay - the wind behind us. Tomorrow we head deep into Hill Country, which will be, well, very hilly.



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Ancient Arts

To see something of the state park, some of the group opted to stick around Seminole Canyon for the 10am guided tour of the Lower Pecos Rock Art. Descending into the canyon we learned that this area is one of the most important for pre-historic art in North America, particularly for its polychromaticism. The work is about 3800 yrs old. Pictured is one of the best panels. For more info see http://www.RockArt.org

So our group got on the road about noon after eating our pack lunches at the visitor's center. For a general description of the day, see yesterday, but add an adjective to the description of the head wind. By the way, if you're getting sick of reading about head winds, imagine how we feel!

Right out of the park I had no energy, so we stopped 9 miles down the road in Comstock at Holley's Place for another lunch - being eggs, bacon and Texas Toast it was really more of an early afternoon breakfast.

Although a short day at 40 miles (1/2 the distance of yesterday), it was a long ride. Maybe yesterday wiped me out. So I was happy when we arrived at the RV Park on the outskirts of Del Rio, and double happy to learn we were going out to the all-you-can-eat Sirloin Buffet ($8:20 per person, soft drinks included).

After eating all I could, hopefully I'll have more energy for tomorrow's 75 miles, particularly since Gerben and I will be cooking so we'll need to arrive early for our duties.



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A Big Day in Texas

Well, today's scenery was a lot like yesterday and the day before, except without the interesting features. We left the camp at Sanderson about a 1/2 hour after dawn and arrived at Seminole Canyon State Park about a 1/2 hour before sunset. It was 80.4 miles (129km) as recorded by the on-bike GPS, which makes it the longest distance I have ever ridden in one day. Nearly 8 hours in the saddle.



It was a day of dips. Up to a crest with big views out over an essentially flat landscape, then down into a dip, then back up to a crest, then down into a dip. So even though we dropped a couple of thousand feet overall, we still did 2000 feet of climbing. Did I mention we had a moderate to strong head wind all day?



We've been seeing lots of wildlife in Texas. Big tarantulas and giant cicadas. Big raccoons (road kill). Big birds of prey. Big Monarch butterflies (migrating to Mexico I'm told). Big bison bulls.



Today we spoke to a border patrolman who was dragging big tires along a dirt strip next to the road. He said it was to soften the ground so they could see the tracks of illegals stealing north through the desert. He lived in Sanderson. Said "rather you than me" when we mentioned we were on our way to Florida.



Tonight we are in the state park campground. Its nice to be away from towns, the railway tracks, and flood lights. The best stars so far.

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Crossing the Pecos

Another great day's riding. Remarkably similar to yesterday's in fact. We threaded our way through the narrow valleys of Brewster, Pecos and Terrell counties. The road was consistently downhill, and with a sweet tail wind we made great time and had fun speeding along in top gear.

We arrived in Sanderson mid-afternoon, so messed around town, eating second-lunch at the only open cafe, then showering in the high school gym before pitching our tents on a seemingly abandoned baseball field. There isn't much to this town of 800 souls, its only merit being that there is precious little else around.

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The Best of West Texas

We left Marfa on a beautiful West Texas morning. Cool but not cold, slight tail wind and with a brand new road surface, rolling smooth and fast. The desert was tinged green and yellow after the rain, the sun picking out the mountains in its raking light. We glided effortlessly across the valley and over a low pass before dropping down into the town of Alpine in time for an early lunch.



The superb conditions continued after Alpine as we headed for Marathon. Small trees and green hills off into the distance, horses and cows grazing, and the ever-present railway tracks shining in the sun.



The pueblo styled RV park a little out of Marathon where we are camping is actually quite cute, as is the restored adobe town center. After a camp dinner we all headed down to the historic Gage Hotel for drinks and atmosphere. Walking back, the Milky Way hung overhead like a white arch, a shooting star left a trail across the sky, a freight train passed - its headlight picking out trees and telephone poles for a mile down the track, its sudden horn scaring the living daylights out of me.



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Drying Out

Bad-ass Bikers

The day dawned gray and cold as we gathered in the kitchen and cooked up a large batch of premium Ghirardelli hot chocolate mocha which we had with slices of fresh fruit. We were all nervous about whether we would get another day of heavy rain or something more conducive to exploring the town, so we quickly set to with loads of laundry, gear cleaning, tent drying and bike maintenance. The house and yard were something between and laundromat and mechanic's shop.



Mid-morning the sky started to open and the sun came out. A quick call to Burt at www.FlyGliders.com and Kami and I were set for a 2pm take off. So we all went down to the very cute Squeeze Marfa cafe for a quick bite then Kami and I set off on our bikes for the airport, 3 miles out of town.

At the airport we met Burt, our glider pilot. Much of his business is as a flight instructor and gliding license certifier for the FAA so in spite of his rock star appearance [he really is in a rock band] we felt pretty safe. After helping get the beautiful bird out of the hanger, Roger came by with the tow plane and after a few instructions (i.e. "Whatever you do DON'T push the red button") I was off down the runway and soaring up over the plains of Marfa. My one mistake was using the camera. Close focus while getting airborne was not a good idea and I was soon feeling rather queasy. Gliding was everything I had hoped for though. Burt was an excellent pilot, talking about the landscape and town as we flew over it and visiting with a flock of birds coming our way. The rushing sound of the wind. Did you know you can stick your hand out of a very small window in the cockpit? After 15 minutes riding the thermals up and down I was ready to get my feet back on the ground so we swooped back down for a perfect landing. Kami went next and I enjoyed watching the glider from the terra firma of the picnic area.

Burt and Roger kindly gave us and our bikes a ride back to town since I was still a bit weak at the knees. After meeting back up with the others, we explored the town of Marfa. Everything arty was closed on account of it being a Tuesday, and this past weekend was Marfa Open House, the biggest art event of the year, so we had to content ourselves with window browsing. This is a fabulous town, and very interesting to walk around even with everything closed. You could spend days here when things are open (Thurs-Sun).

Back at the house we drank a little wine and beer and repacked our stuff before heading back into town for dinner. On the recommendation of a local we went to Maiya's, an Italian restaurant that was excellent in every way. The wine and beer (and some spirits) flowed, along with great food and conversation, before we all returned to the house for a nightcap. From the looks of the locals we were a little louder than most folks seen wandering the streets of Marfa at night. The sky was full of stars so we're hoping the Fort Davis crew managed to get to the McDonald Observatory star party tonight as they had hoped.


A most excellent day, but not sure it counts as drying out!



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Luxuries

Today we had another 75 miles to ride, and we were expecting it to be a flat, brown and featureless trek across the desert. We were mostly wrong.

The desert started out very green; the distant mountains blue in the damp morning air. It was quite beautiful. We had a slow start again today with 4 flats in the first 5 miles. Then the rain came, just showers at first.


We rode in a tight line up the valley, taking turns as leader. Cold, wet, head wind and very slightly uphill. It was energy-sapping. Slow going for all of us except Derek (from the north of England) who had struggled in the extreme heat of the desert but now was grinning from ear to ear. "Gentle rain this", he said "just like home".

We were planning on taking our lunch at Valentine about 40 miles into the ride, but just before we got there we passed a Prada luxury goods store - in the middle of nowhere. I mean who are they selling all those $3000 handbags and shoes to? After some window shopping, we sat outside and ate lunch.

As it turned out there was nothing in Valentine (population 217), and I mean nothing. Not so much as a flower. It's remote country out here. After lunch the rain set in for the day: varying only in strength. Big trucks would pass spraying up clouds of water. The landscape changed to a sandy brown. It would be a beautiful ride in better conditions, but we were heads down against the wind and cranking.


"So Derek, is this still gentle rain?"

"No, this is heavy rain now"


Things lightened up a bit the last 15 or so miles. After climbing 900 feet over the day it leveled off and the wind dropped. The rain got harder. So it was a sorry looking posse that rode into Marfa after 10 hours out in the wet and cold.



After some riding around we found our fabulous rented house. Luckily it had a large tiled back entry where we could organize our soaked selves before heading for the showers. It felt sooooo good to have heat, shampoo and cotton towels. A quick trip to the supermarket through the dark and torrential rain, then we had a wonderfully sophisticated dinner with great thin crust pizza, salad, wine and strawberries and cream for desert.

Big comfy beds. Tomorrow seems so far away.



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Moving On Towards Marfa

Today was a long day. It started with a puncture before even leaving our churchyard campground, so we were late getting on the road. Then the day's 75 mile ride alternated between actually riding on the 10 freeway or immediately adjacent to it on the "frontage road". Combined with reasonable head winds, it was slow going all day. Then we crossed into Central Time and "lost" an hour.

We started with a long climb from the Rio Grande valley up onto a desert plateau, lunch stop in the boarded up town of Sierra Blanca, then a long, long haul across the plateau, and a short downhill into Van Horn and the KOA campground. 2000 feet of climbing in all.

The advantage of riding in a group is the opportunity for drafting, and I did my fair share today. Following about 2 feet behind the rider in front, it requires concentration but cuts the wind resistance enormously and really helps with head winds on the long stretches.

Tomorrow 5 of us are splitting off from the group and going to Marfa instead of Fort Davis for our rest day on Tuesday. A mecca for contemporary art, film buffs and gliding, there's sure to be some culture and excitement. We've rented what looks to be a very luxurious vacation house so we're looking forward to a nice day off and some R&R.

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Someone Else's Party

El Paso, Texas... what a piece of shit. It even smelled like it.



We stayed in a historic hotel downtown, now converted to a cheap hostel. Leather arm chairs in the lobby, friendly service, historic light switches: that was the upside. The downside was that it was opposite an absolutely pounding nightclub. Luckily, I happen to like 80's Euro Discoteque - some others in the group were not so pleased.



Antonio on the front desk assured us that those who take the time to explore El Paso find worlds-best amenities, for example the art museum, the music scene, the annual film festival (unfortunately now defunct due to city budget cuts) and the view of the city at night. At least this is what he's been told by guests who have traveled to other places.

Perhaps Antonio is right, but we will never know. We were outta there ASAP come morning. Rode much faster than I would have liked today, but getting out of town fast just seemed like the right thing to do. We rode hard to the next town of Fabens, about 25 miles. It was right out of an old border town Western movie. We stopped at Nena's Mexican Restaurant on the outskirts and had a most excellent second breakfast before working a stiff head wind south east along the border to the Community Church in Fort Hancock where we are camping for the night.

We discovered that this night was the town's annual festival - the Fiesta de Santa Teresita - at the Catholic church. It was in full swing when we arrived, the rancheros in their fresh pressed jeans, shiniest buckles, and crisp cream hats, the senoritas in their tightest jeans and low cut tops. There was a great Mexican band playing, there were stalls for all kinds of Mexican food and stalls where you could play a game to win a prize. Beers were only $1:50 and came with a free koozie. We ate, looked around and did a little dancing, before returning down the road to the campground, the lights of the other Mexico twinkling deviously from across the river.

Reg on the Mechanical Bull

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Unlucky Knickers

Dawn over Las Cruces, NM



It was cold this morning as we gathered for breakfast around 7 and made our packed lunches. So cold in fact that Kami pulled out her bright scarlet leg warmers, to the muffled amusement of all. But that was where the fun stopped.

Before even setting out from the campground Derek had a flat. He had two more before the one mile mark. By mile 8 it was carnage. I had one in my front wheel. Kami had flats in both wheels. Dolores had three flats in two trailer wheels. We estimated 11 flats in all and we were still in sight of the camp.

By the time we were finally ready to move on the day had warmed considerably and so off came the leg warmers, and just like that: no more problems. Coincidence... I don't think so! [Goathead thorns not withstanding]

After such a stressful start we stopped in the historic town of Mesilla (now a suburb of Las Cruces) with its quaint town square. Not so quaint in its heyday, this is where Billy the Kid was arraigned and sentenced to hang. We stuck to the fudge and ice cream.



It was high noon before we set out again. The ride was smooth and fast, carrying us to the state border. And so we left the "Land of Enchantment" state and entered the "Don't Mess With" state and the city of El Paso. At this point traffic turned horrendous and we were forced to ride most of the 9 remaining miles on the sidewalk. The drivers here take their state mantra seriously.



One thing's for certain though: if those red knickers ever come out again, Kami's on her own.



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The sad Rio Grande

Spent the day riding down the valley of the Rio Grande - which is now Rio Pequeno due to the extensive irrigation. Crops of red chilis, white cotton and pecans made it feel like Christmas. Pumpkins being harvested reminded us of impending Halloween.

We passed many chili processing plants; crates of chilis stacked high, chilis being sorted, cooked and dried. The road side was littered with red chilis. Chilis thrown off to the side shared the verge with crushed beer cans and discarded Gatorade bottles.

After a time the run down trailer home compounds and their yards filled with rusted out cars gave way to fancy Spanish houses as we neared our destination: Las Cruces. This is our last night in New Mexico. Tomorrow El Paso and Texas.



Rider Profile

Jim is a retired newspaper man. He spent 21 years as a foreign correspondent for the AP which took him to Moscow, London, Johannesburg and Nairobi among other places. He then he took a job as the national/foreign editor at the Dallas/Fort Worth Star Telegram where he worked for 22 years.

Jim is a wealth of knowledge on Texas towns and history so he has us actually looking forward to the 3 weeks/1000 miles it takes for us to cross that state.

He and his wife Mary Ellen love to travel, which is good because their three sons love to move around, currently living in New York, Denver and Taipei.

Jim is also keeping a blog of this trip. He has longer and better researched posts and better pictures.

http://jimsbikeblog.wordpress.com




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Attack of the Pie People

Last night's campground was a good one. As well as nice facilities, some kind of mint had been sown in the grass so as you walked around you were greeted with fresh, minty smells. After a hard day's ride this went some way to offsetting ... OK, I won't go there.



Today we set off to climb to the highest point on the trip. Leaving the campground at 5700 feet the road immediately began ascending, and it climbed fairly steadily over 18 miles up to Emory Pass at 8200 feet. It was a very pleasant ride through alpine forest; sounds of birdsong and wind blowing in trees, small rocky creeks, a waterfall. The pass came too soon it seemed. Celebrations, photos, more photos, more photos. Its all downhill from here.

We quickly dropped 2500 feet to the historic town of Hillsboro where we ate incredible Bubbleberry pie at the old General Store cafe, celebrating the pass and also Gerben's birthday (he's 67 but don't tell him I told you). The cafe was full of crusty local characters, not least of which were the hostesses who made you feel like you'd committed a crime just by ordering something, neigh - just by raising your eye's up from the table. I was instructed that I had ordered a milkshake not a malt, then lectured on the difference. The other hostess described our group as "Attack of the Pie People", which to be fair, was not inaccurate.



I set off from Hillsboro at a good clip to make it to camp in time to help cook. The first 20 miles dropped another 2000 feet and took only about an hour, the bike reaching 40.6 mph (65 km/h). The last 7 miles were hard slog into a flag-snapping head wind. When I arrived Felix had already checked out the meager place and said in his German accent: "I have never seen such a hole in the ground".


Bonus Video

Downhill from Reg Prentice on Vimeo.

This was actually shot yesterday in the Gila Wilderness, but it could equally well have been today.




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The Scenic Route

Here is some video from a couple of days ago, just after we crossed into New Mexico. This is really how things roll at Adventure Cycling!

Cruising at 5500 feet from Reg Prentice on Vimeo.

Today the group split and some took the easy, 20 mile route to Mimbres using the main road, and the others took the scenic (read: mountainous) route. It was pretty steep country, but the 50 mile narrow and winding road through the 4 million acre Gila Wilderness was well worth the effort. Expansive views over the forest dotted with autumn colors, little streams, almost no traffic. I saw a tarantula (body length about 2 inches|50mm), a gaggle of very large wild turkeys, a family of about a dozen Javelinas (small pig-like animals), and herd of deer. Bobbling up and down between 6000 and 7500 feet, two more crossings of the Continental Divide, this is about as close to flying as you can get without leaving the ground.

Elevation Profile for the last 3 days. We didn't do the center section; that is the spur that goes off the route to the Gila Cliff Dwellings.



Tomorrow we ride to the highest point on the trip: the 8200 foot Emory Pass. The total elevation gain is probably not as much as today though, which was 3000 feet.

A day off

Today is our second day off, but first day without riding (we did 30 miles on our last day off in Phoenix). This morning we had a leisurely breakfast in Silver City, which turned out to be a pleasant town then hung out at the bike shop. When Cathy mentioned that she needed to use a water basin to look for the hole in her Thermorest someone in the store said he lived nearby and just to go over to his house. Fixing the Thermorest was much easier with a full kitchen. What a cool town this is.

At lunchtime Dave, the tour leader, swung by the RV park in a rented van and we all drove up to the Gila Cliff Dwellings National Monument. Dappled light splashed through autumn colors as we walked the short trail up the canyon to the cliff dwellings. Docents were on site ready to talk about how the rooms were built and point out the few remaining cave paintings. Surprisingly, the dwellings were built and inhabited only between about 1270 and 1300 AD.



Met some kiwis (from Christchurch) in the pub in the evening. They are doing the Adventure Cycling Great Divide route: a primarily off road route that follows the crest of the Rocky Mountains from Banff south to the Mexican border.



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