Day 9: Rest Day in Catalina
Day 10: Catalina to Somewhere in Arizona
The other picture, in which I don't look terrifically cheerful, is me setting off in 40 degree weather wearing nearly every top I had. The weather was very fickle-- sometimes it looked like it would clear-- a few minutes later it would rain. We went through five hail storms during the ride and by lucky timing John and I were in a nice Italian restaurant on the outskirts of Tucson when the worst one happened. Despite the weather, today was a really nice ride-- I think the best so far. We rode from somewhere northwest of Tucson to somewhere southeast of Tucson-- only forty miles in all. There were ups, downs, curves, mountains, vistas, cacti, attractive adobe housing complexes-- in general things of interest.
The cooking on this trip is not the gourmet experience we were promised-- our cook does well but he has no stove (it was left behind in Florida due to the vehicle problem I may have mentioned before) so he is doing everything in giant slow cookers and it is not a success. John and I have decided to make more eating stops-- we were lucky today as we made our way around Tucson that there were lots of "food choices" as Bubba puts it. We stopped three times to eat and get warm and the miles in between stops were painless.
Day 11: The ride to Tombstone
The ride was 73 miles and ended up in an RV park just outside Tombstone. Sadly, I quickly realized that our accommodations, often very sketchy on this trip, were the worst thus far. Because Bubba let his trip get so big (it was originally planned for 15 riders) he has been dashing around madly trying to rework the logistics for the 35 riders he actually has. In this place we were supposed to stay in small cabins but there are not enough of them so he put the overflow into an empty double wide and a non-operating pizza restaurant. We got the pizza place and it was ghastly. Smelled terrible, , very crowded with the number of mattresses in there, old machinery and cooking things everywhere. Exhausted from my ride I looked around and collapsed into a puddle of weeping misery. All of the people who had been put in the building were fuming-- some went to a hotel (since the first night in Catalina we have lost several people every night to hotels) one couple insisted that their tent be set up outside, and John went to look for a light bulb for the bathroom. In this quest he learned that there was no electricity and no heat in the building and was offered a real room above the "office". He reappeared, said"get your mattress and your suitcase quick" and we rushed off to lay claim to the new space. So we spent the night with light, heat, a bathroom, a place to charge everything. Pure luxury.
Possibly in an effort to distract his riders from their temporary home, Bubba decked us out with cowboy hats, bandannas and plastic sheriff stars and got the Tombstone Trolley to take us into town. There we watched a "gunfight" -- really 30 minutes of comic skits which were somewhat amusing although we were all very cold on metal bleachers. Then it was off to "Big Nose Kate's Saloon" where we had pizza and listened to a singer who was so good, singing mostly Willie Nelson songs, that we thought for some time he was lip synching. Finally we were loaded back on the trolley and taken for a "ghost tour" but I was so exhausted that I spent most of it asleep.
Days 12 & 13: to Rodeo, New Mexico
We froze again last night but not as badly as the night in Tucson where ice formed on our tent and we moved in the middle of the night to the computer room in the RV park where we were staying. This morning we headed off on a 78 mile ride to Rodeo, New Mexico. One of the best riding days of my life. It was Route 80 the whole way, a state road, but after we went through Douglas Arizona it was more like a bike lane shared only with the Border Patrol. The road surface was great, there was a lot of downhill, it was scenic and best of all a really great tailwind. We rode all 78 miles in about a little more than five hours-- we were spinning along at a great rate and it seemed like every time I looked another mile post went by. We are hoping for a repeat tomorrow when we have our longest day of the trip-- 94 miles to Columbus, New Mexico where we have a rest day. Rodeo is a very small and nondescript town. Some buildings along the highway with dirt "streets" on the south side and a few sketchy houses. We are having dinner at the Rodeo Tavern and it is time to eat.
Day 14: Rodeo to Columbus, New Mexico
The picture below is of a "street" in Rodeo.
Our ride yesterday was 97 miles (not the advertised 94) and much more challenging than the ride to Rodeo. We did not have a really favorable wind and the scenery was much of a muchness. The road was good, however, and there was very little traffic-- the ride took eight hours. We are now in Columbus-- a more desolate place than I have ever seen. Our housing is in a spanking new elementary school-- certainly the nicest building in town and once again we are sleeping in a gym. We have the day off.
Day 15: Rest Day in Columbus, New Mexico
Columbus is a strange place. It is just two miles from a Mexican town called Palomas. The school where we are staying is the only large employer and it is a really big school. One wonders why such a big elementary school for such a dinky town. More on that later....
Columbus is the site of Pancho Villa's raid into the U.S. in 1916 and Pancho appears to be their claim to fame. In July 2011 Columbus had what they call "The Second Raid"; the FBI capture of the mayor, the police chief and several other town leaders, who were accused and eventually convicted of smuggling guns to the Mexican cartel. This left Nicole, a young woman who was town clerk, appointed as the new mayor. Bubba invited her over to talk about Columbus. Turns out she is also an EMT. There is an arrangement with Palomas that Columbus will provide emergency services. Since the only clinic in Palomas is sometimes shuttered by the cartel, women delivering babies call the Columbus ambulance. In 5 years Nicole has delivered 23 babies and she is only one of several doing this. Each of these babies is automatically an American citizen and must be educated in the U.S. Thus goes the school bus, every morning, down to the "portal" and picks up the kids for school in Columbus. There is apparently some disgruntlement about this because the Mexicans pay no taxes for the maintenance of the school but Columbus citizens don't have much of a platform to complain since their town officials blotted their copybook with the smuggling thing.
About half of our group went over to Palomas for lunch at "The Pink Store. While Columbus is dreary and appears largely deserted, Palomas is a very happening place. Just one long party, at least to the casual tourist. It was there I learned that margaritas are like t**s on a woman: "One is not enough and three is too many". The Pink Store is a combo shop and restaurant and the minute you enter you are offered a free margarita. There is lots of beautiful Mexican pottery, leather, jewelry, booze, clothing, etc. We had a really nice lunch there and I am glad that John and I took advantage of the side trip because we are not likely to be any where near Mexico again.
Days 16 & 17: In and out of El Paso
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| Leaving El Paso |
Getting into cities on a bicycle is always hard-- it tends to happen late in the day when one is hot and tired and there is rush hour traffic. This was one of the worst-- bad roads where we had to merge and make difficult left turns and it was all dust and dirt and glass and the bigger scene was cement plants and gravel quarries Finally we crossed over the Rio not so Grande, took our pictures at the Texas border (where the words "Home of George W. Bush" on the welcome sign had been painted over) and battled up a steep hill to the hotel (yes! hotel). I was very bent out of shape on arrival but the hotel was quite nice. We then were carted off to my most unfavorite restaurant, the "Golden Corral". This is a buffet offering countless options and all you can eat. I enter determined to exercise restraint and depart feeling ready to explode from over eating-- some things never change.
This morning after a good night's sleep we battled our way out of El Paso-- a process much more pleasant than our entry because it was cool and we were rested. Bubba routed us on residential streets for some time, then we rode right through downtown El Paso. We eventually got on Delta Drive and rode that to the "North Loop". It was a good twenty miles before we were out into the country. For the last some miles and for the next several days we will be riding on Texas Route 20. It was hot but with a good breeze and our 56 mile ride to Fort Hancock very pleasant overall.
Day 18: A little desert goes a long way
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| Sierra Blanca Texas |
The next direction was to carry the bikes over a short graveled section and onto a frontage road that had suddenly materialized out of nowhere. Little did I know that I was beginning a gradual but ten mile long climb on a rough road. Bubba, with his philosophy that "it is all good" prefers to gloss over the parts that someone might think are not so good, so the climb was briefly mentioned at the meeting last night but the details were left very vague. My own preference is to know the worst ahead of time so that I can be mentally prepared-- in any case, the road was there and I had to ride it. Aggravated, annoyed and aggrieved, I toiled on with the help of my iTouch and "A Prayer for Owen Meany". Eventually we reached Sierra Blanca, a town in complete dishevelment, where we had lunch-- I am existing almost entirely on cheese sandwiches and cheese enchiladas-- vegetarianism on a bike ride is nothing like what it is in Northport Maine.
I was wrong, by the way, when I said we would be on Route 20 for some days-- it is Route 90 that we get on tomorrow and will ride for the next four days. More frontage road after lunch and eventually back onto I-10 proper (supposedly the last time we will be riding on an interstate) and eventually a nice long downhill-- marred only by the close proximity of two lanes packed with huge trailer trucks. Our immediate destination was a Dairy Queen on the outskirts of Van Horne. Simultaneously with reaching the DQ, I realized that it was closed and that I had a flat tire. A double whammy. Thinking John was not far behind me, I began to push the bike. Since he didn't show up I finally called and learned that he had also had a flat and that in his case the whole tire was ruined. Fortunately our mechanic came along with a new tire and got John back on the road. In the meantime since I was only 1.5 miles from camp I took a ride rather than asking someone to change my flat in the heat and dirt of the roadside. We are now in the shade in a KOA and John has spent some time patching tubes and getting us road worthy again. Tomorrow we ride another 75 miles to Marfa.
Day 19: Some good news, some bad news
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| How we are pampered today
The good news about today? Nice clouds, a DQ at the end and I made the 74 mile ride without a SAG. The bad news? Scenery: not so great. Road surface: mostly terrible. Speed limit: 75 mph on a two lane road. Horrific accidents: one big truck, picture below. Winds: not favorable. Riding today felt like rowing a small boat across an open ocean. Only John Irving kept me going (and the thought of the DQ). The only settlement was at a town called "Valentine" where the high school travel club catered a small lunch for us as a fundraiser. Last year their school had 78 students in grades K-12 and graduated 2 students. This year there are 5 seniors. I was put off by a pretty girl who proudly told us that her father bought her a car...a Hummer! This in yet another town that looks post-apocalytic.
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Day 20: Losing It
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| Ghost Bike Near Marfa Texas |
I started this day determined to be more positive in my outlook and more mindful of what a marvelous experience we are having and for the first 26 miles I was successful. The desert is cool and serene in the morning and soon, riding through an area called Paisano Pass, it was beautiful as well. We made good time to Alpine. Our first Alpine was in California and was truly situated in high elevations. Alpine, Texas must have been named to in an attempt to evoke feelings of coolth and beauty but the town has neither. Having a university, however, the town was more alive looking than most we have been through and had several food options. Unfortunately we were there long before lunch and food did not entice so I hurried on. Sadly, my positive mental attitude drained away quickly with each passing mile as the scenery was worse than tedious, the road surface went bad and the winds were cranky and random.
Our ride was short, however, and before long we arrived in Marathon where we found a nice cafe and two waitresses generous with the lemonade pitcher and I thought I was reasonably calm. I have not previously mentioned that John and I have been banished to the "snore section" and those who know me know also that John is not to blame. I am hugely offended by this and feel like a pariah dog who has been kicked to the outskirts of the village in disdain. I have tried to keep it in perspective, however, and succeeded until today when we came into camp and discovered that our tent had been erected in the "dog walk" area and that everywhere about the tent lay copious amounts of dog waste. I went off like a firecracker, screaming at the staff, using the f word numerous times, hurling my helmet and gloves to the ground and rushing off into the desert to die. John and our very nice massage man, Ken, finally found me half asleep on the ground and persuaded me to return to camp. So Amanda, when you said that you and Babs were following my blog with concern for my safety and sanity, you were right on the mark!
Day 21: Big Bend Park (and more on Day 20)
We are now in "goathead" territory and these little thorns are certainly a plague. They are the tiny thorned seeds of the tumbleweed and we are finding them in our beds, in our shoes, on the floor of the tent and everywhere. I walked my bike into the camp yesterday but should have carried it as I got a flat just rolling it along. Apparently we will have three more days of this before the problem lessens. Despite this, we are in one of the nicer camps thus far. There is even a small outhouse in the tent area that turns out to have a flush toilet. I am now sitting at a picnic table using my headlamp to type and attracting lots of bugs so won't go on. Except to say that tomorrow's trip promises to be harrowing with very high temps in the nineties. Only 54 miles however.
More on "losing it" : The dog area is marked on maps of the campground but there are no signs denoting the boundaries. The boys who set up the tents are young, sweet and very boyish. They have 30 or so tents to do and the winds were howling yesterday. I am sure they never noticed the loads of desiccated piles lying about. Only fussy old Dereka would worry about such niceties.
Day 22: Marathon to Sanderson, Texas
Left there, still waiting for the ride to turn bad, and found myself sailing along with little effort on a gradual downhill, feeling great and just knowing that the miles were adding up fast. With some amazement I soon reached the second SAG at mile 43. When was the misery going to begin? It was getting a bit hot so I poured water through my helmet and down my back and meeting up with John we started off together. By this point there was only ten miles left but the riding was still easy and mostly downhill. I could see a ridge ahead and braced myself for the climb. It turned out that the road twisted and wound its way through a gap that magically appeared as we sailed along and very quickly I could see a town ahead. It seemed impossible that we could have ridden 54 miles so quickly...was it a desert mirage? a Potemkin village? No, it was Sanderson, our home for the night.
So much for where worrying gets one.
Days 23 & 24: Sanderson to Bracketville
My riding time for the day was 9.5 hours and I was so late getting in and the wiring and wi-fi situation was so sketchy that I abandoned all thoughts of the blog and just sat and drank beer. We were at Seminole Canyon State Park, just east of the Pecos River, and it was nice in that weird desert way-- particularly at sundown. We had a decent night sleep and woke refreshed and ready for another ride. We left at 7:30 and rode about 12 miles before we were again riding into a headwind-- soon worse than the day before. I feel that I can deal with heat and hills but not headwinds-- especially not two days in a row. The route crossed a very long bridge over the Amistad Reservoir west of Del Rio and the wind blew so hard on the bridge that I was barely able to maintain 5mph working as hard as I could. I struggled on for 40 miles but when I reached the lunch spot in Del Rio I knew that I was done. Several other people also sagged today but John decided to keep riding. I feel like a failure when I sag but John said the ride was extremely difficult and I probably made a good choice.
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| One of the better bathrooms we have encounted-- better than the roadside, that is... |
 Geologic layers in road cut West Texas |
Days 25 and 26: to Kerrville, Texas. Halfway!
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| Boot Fence - Near Hunt Texas |
We stayed last night at a place called "River Bend" where we had actual cabins with actual beds, a private bath and a nice porch to look out on a pond and trees. Sadly no wifi and no phone reception (no matter who your provider) so for once the "Pamper Zone" was not full of riders on smart phones and iPads. We even had a decent dinner and breakfast.
Today was the real treat, however. We had a splendid ride through a landscape that could have been in New England (except for lots of prickly pear cactus). Quite hilly but in a good way-- reasonably short climbs (nearly 3000 feet total, however) and nice downhill runs. For the first 25 miles we were still going north on Route 83, then turned east again on Route 39...a really lovely ride. The land on either side of the road was taken up with huge fenced ranches-- at least one of them a place to hunt for "trophy" animals. Eventually we began to follow the Guadalupe River, crossing and recrossing it, a few times on bridges but mostly just on paved fords or "dips". It was lovely to see a river with water in it-- everything but the Pecos has been dry as a bone.
My bitch today is with the route sheets which have consistently been wrong and were very much wrong today-- since they have been wrong so often I should be used to it but I guess with such a beautiful ride, the route sheets are the only way left to exercise my complaining nature. I hadn't paid much attention to the sheet but when I arrived at the 37.3 SAG, other riders were complaining. Fool that I am, I asked how far it was to lunch. "Downhill Bob" the staff person at the SAG said it was 7 miles. So off I rode, still without looking at the sheet, and in 7 miles began to look for the lunch stop. Eventually I checked and saw that the lunch was supposed to be 50.8. In other words 13.5 miles from the SAG. At 50.8, however, there was nada. I rode and rode thinking I had somehow missed it-- but eventually John texted me and said it wasn't until 55.2! Very annoying when you are hot and tired! Needless to say, I am not the only one fussing about this but I will try to accept it with a more laid back attitude.
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| One of many intricate ranch gates |
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| Bluebonnets (which are actually like little lupines) |
Day 28: Kerrville to Blanco, Texas
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| Turkey Vultures West of Blanco |
I have hope that this ride will continue to improve if only because there are many more roads available. The roads we used for the first half of the trip were essentially the only roads. Today I realized that a small New England county probably has several times the paved mileage that one finds in a huge county in the west.
Strange and funny things:
At a scenic overlook there was a very neatly edited sign that read:
"Don't push or shove or pee over cliff. Campers and swimmers below"
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| Jet Plane in a Barnyard |
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| "Throne Hinge" This was a long line of toilets in a field. A lot of work to be so idiotic. |
Days 29 & 30: Blanco, Lockhart, La Grange, Texas
After a few days of riding in the wonderful Texas Hill Country, we are now in a slightly flatter but still lovely part of central Texas. The west Texas towns like Sierra Blanca were so dreadful that I was prepared to declare the entire state a wasteland but there is actually a lot to like about the small towns we have ridden through more recently. Comfort, Wimberly, Lockhart, LaGrange-- all nice old towns with carefully restored and maintained historic districts, lots going on, shady streets and lovely courthouses (Texas is famous for courthouses, I have learned). We have been on better and worse roads but today was almost entirely back roads with light traffic. We have finally seen real Texas longhorn cattle. The wildflowers continue to be spectacular. But best of all, and entirely by chance, I had the opportunity today to tour the Texas Quilt Museum.
The ride was only 60 miles and when we reached LaGrange John suggested that we ride around the center of town. Everything was closed up tight because of Easter Sunday but very quickly we stumbled upon the TQM. Amazingly it was open, so smelly and sweaty as we were, in we went. Did I mention that it has been really HOT! Despite our condition, we were graciously welcomed by the museum ladies-- one of whom was Carrie ?, the founder of the museum and one of the main organizers of the Houston Quilt Show. It is a fabulous museum with perhaps fifty very stunning and high quality quilts. When I told her where I was from, Carrie mentioned that she knew of both Dianne Hire and Sarah Ann Smith-- two of our renowned Maine quilters.
A ninety mile ride tomorrow-- then a rest day.
Days 31 &32: La Grange to Mexican Hill Ranch
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| Chicken Ranch Dance Hall |
Our ride yesterday was about 90 miles, from La Grange to Richards, Texas. The first 22 miles was utter bliss with the best of all SAG in a small town called Carmine. A local man had bumped into Bubba on previous rides and was inspired to make fresh coffee at the town park. This inspired "Deb" another local, to provide pastries, granola and "Happy Belly Green Smoothies". The mayor of Carmine, a man with a zither business was also there to greet us. The smoothies looked rather scary but I tried one and it was great-- spinach, mango, almonds, celery, ginger, orange, mint and coconut water.
This pleasant interlude was rudely followed by a ghastly six mile ride on a four lane divided highway-- a wide shoulder but very rough and I was kept busy dodging broken glass, truck tire debris and the crushed carcasses of snakes, turtles and armadillos. Fortunately it was so short and we were soon back on a beautiful country road.
The picture above is at the MHR-- a bike hostel located on the route, 1829 miles from San Diego and 1220 miles from St. Augustine. Ernie and his wife Doris run a ranch with a hostel business on the side and have been gracious hosts for our rest day. Today several of the other cyclists and I went to "Washington on the Brazos" a museum about the Texas Revolution, the Republic of Texas and eventual U.S. Statehood. The museum was very well done and since I knew absolutely nothing about Sam Houston, Santa Anna, Davy Crockett, the Alamo, San Jacinto and etc. I learned a great deal.
Day 33: Richards to Coldspring, Texas
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| Lake Conrad, near New Waverley, Texas
Today John and I decided that there are no live armadillos in Texas. The state just has a factory to manufacture carcasses and spreads them around Texas on the roads. Not quite the same with javalinas... we saw three live ones and two dead, so we believe that they still exist.
Our ride today was very short-- supposedly 44 miles although we have learned to add a few Bubba miles every day. Today added up to about 48 rather than the 44 promised but who is counting? People voluntarily riding coast to coast should not be obsessing about every extra mile-- but most of us do. The beginning of the ride was lovely-- through the Sam Houston National Forest. The rest was on a busier road but not awful. We are now in yet another RV park-- we are all beginning to understand the limitations of the RV park for tenters...the RVs all have their own toilets and they aren't really expecting 45 tenters. So, once again we have two showers-- one for men, one for women, and once again they have limited hot water which is always gone by the time I arrive. At Mexican Hill I just gave up and took a bird bath with a wet cold washcloth. That meant, however, that I hadn't had a shower since Sunday in La Grange. This is Wednesday and I have ridden many hot sweaty miles. Fortunately Bubba has felt our pain and offered the shower in his RV so I am again, temporarily, clean.
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