Texas

Texas is big.  Texas gets hot, cold, windy, and remote.   Texas is hard.  I was in Texas for more than a month, logged over 1,300 miles, got sick 3 times, and of the 5 flat tires I've had since I left CT, 4 were on Texas roads.  I spent many lunch breaks sitting on guardrails, the only place to sit for miles, trying to put peanut butter into a tortilla flapping violently in the wind. Fortunately, Texas has a diversity of beautiful landscapes and many wonderful people.

I arrived in east Texas via Port Arthur and Beaumont, oil towns, and then rode on to Kingwood, a suburb north of Houston (the oil town), then to Montgomery, Carmine, and eventually to Austin.  East Texas wasn't particularly exciting, but full of kind Warmshowers hosts, which I appreciate even more after riding through west TX and camping for weeks at a time.

Riding through Beaumont I had to navigate around a sizable anti-abortion march in route to Jeff and Comeka's home.  Jeff and Comeka treated me to pizza and football playoffs, a day of rest, and to my first Tex-Mex meal.  Then on to Kingwood, which is suburban car land, and made me happy I wasn't getting any closer to Houston.  My Warmshowers host in Kingwood, Nathan, recently did a tour himself and so has hosting down to a science.  He has everything ready that a cyclist might ask for, including a little tray of extra toiletries in the bathroom labeled with a note to cyclists to help themselves, and had plenty of extra dessert.  In Montgomery I camped out at my first bike shop, Lake Conroe Cycling.  In addition to a couch, TV, dual headed shower, and hot beverages in the shop, Cindi provides an electric space heater for your tent on cold nights.

Somewhere around Kingwood I started getting a cold.  Leaving the bike shop the weather took a turn for the worse, with temps dropping throughout the day. After 75 miles of riding the scenic rolling hills to Carmine temps were in the low 30s with light rain.   No chance of fighting off that cold.  Fortunately, in Carmine there is a very special Warmshowers host.  Carol, in her mid 80s, lives alone well off the beaten path on a small piece of property by TX standards (~100 acres).  She has a barn with a bunkhouse which she has been using to host cyclists for years.  After a cold night I awoke to frozen pipes and a coating of ice on the ground.  So I spent a second night and had the pleasure of lending Carol a hand around the house. We went to a neighbor's to pick up a load of scrap wood, filled the tractors with diesel, I moved a microwave, burned some trash and kept the firewood supply coming. Carol was delighted with all we accomplished and gave me a special present. Carol is a woodworker, and carves children's names out of wood with letters that link together like a puzzle.  She carved Madeline and Lily and mailed them to Connecticut.   Reportedly, Madeline figured it out, but Lily is still working on it.

Carol on a cold morning with her mule and mine.

Then I arrived in Austin, and spent a week.  I spent a few days with a young Warmshowers host, Courtney and her roommates, in the Bouldin section of town. Then my mom flew in to visit and we stayed in a hotel downtown so we could explore by foot.  I think I did all the must do Austin things: Mt. Bonnell, Barton Springs, Zilker Park, TX Capitol tour, Bullock TX State History Museum, Whole Foods, saw live rockin music, and went shopping on South Congress.  I also visited the Yellow Bike Project (www.austinyellowbike.org) where they let me use a workbench to put on a bigger cassette (11-32) for the hills.  That turned out to be a very good investment as I have been doing a lot of climbing since I left Austin.  Austin gets an A+ for bicycle friendliness, which is a good thing, because at the current rate of growth (100+ new people per day) the car traffic is apparently becoming horrendous.  So, if you are white, outdoorsy athletic, liberal, work in technology, and/or a hipster you better get your ass to Austin before you can't afford to live there.

Mom doing what she does best, shopping, in Austin.

From Austin I rode through beautiful hill country to Pedernales Fall State Park, a popular place to camp.  I met Jack in the bathroom, and he and Jennifer invited me to join them at their campsite and treated me to wine and a burger stuffed with blue cheese. They even invited me to ride back towards Austin to their home for a Superbowl party.  Instead I rode on to Kerrville, and again the weather got nasty.  73 miles of riding in rain, wind, and temps just above freezing.    By all accounts a miserable ride, and all I can remember is stopping at the LBJ ranch east of Fredricksburg where the ranger let me eat my lunch in the lobby across from framed letters to President Johnson of citizens complaining to him about absurdly petty things.  That reminded me of my couple years in middle management, and made the riding conditions more tolerable.

The pools of water at Pedernales Falls State Park.  No dramatic falls but beautiful smooth rock carved out by the water.  West of Austin erosion seems to be the principal force in shaping the landscape.

Then I arrived in Kerrville, at Janice and Fred's.  They might not have let me me in if they knew I would be there for 10 days.  After my miserable ride and continued cold weather I decided to stay a second night.  As I was getting ready to roll the second day, I felt a bit off.  I laid down before leaving and never left.  An hour later I worked up a good fever.  The next few days were not fun: fever, fatigue, aches, and coughing.  I was thinking I better quarantine myself in a hotel room, but Fred and Janice kept me there and took care of me.  I can't express how thankful I am to them. If I rode off that morning I would like have been stuck in a campground or on the side of the road in my tent. The silver lining to my 10 day visit was getting to know Fred and Janice, and meeting two groups of other cyclists that passed through during my stay.  I also missed several days of frigid temperatures, so perhaps all was for the best.  Next year I am getting a flu shot.

Warmshowers hosts extraordinaire, Janice and Fred, with two other cross country cyclists, Darren and Taylor.

I left Kerrville feeling weak.  I did a shorter ride through more hill country to Leakey (pronounced Lakey), population ~400.  I asked a church if I could camp in their courtyard and they obliged.  I walked down to the restaurant in town, Mama Choles, for a hot Tex Mex dinner.  Lucile and Frank, a couple from the church, ended up joining me.  They also ended up treating me to dinner and calling the church deacon to come and open up the apartment at the church so I could have a bed and hot shower.  Small towns can be wonderful.

More beautiful hilly riding from Leakey to Bracketville and after Bracketville the desert begins.  By time I got to Del Rio temperatures were in the mid 90s and blazing sun.  Just 3 days ago high temps were around freezing.  I ran out of water not even half way to Del Rio,  a good lesson before heading further west, where there are regularly 50-100+ mile stretches of nothing but desert and pavement.   In Del Rio I camped in the backyard of Dex's house. Dex is an ultra-cyclist (http://dextooke.wix.com/ultradex) and inspired me to try to ride the 110+ miles and 3,000+ft of climbing to Sanderson in one day.  Given I had only done 3 rides since the flu episode, I'm not sure what I was thinking.  I made it just under 100 miles before a nagging pain in my left calf muscle became too painful to continue.  I set my tent up in the dark on the side of highway 90 among some very prickly plants.  I slept surprisingly well under a very dark and quiet sky.

The next day I limped 15 miles in to Sanderson and took a rest day at an RV park.  Another increasingly scenic 55 miles and I made it to Marathon, and spent a few nights recovering at a very strange Warmshowers host/hostel, a great introduction to the many small towns in remote parts of west Texas home to very eccentric folks.

A stretch of road between Del Rio and Marathon.  A whole lot of nothing out there, but very scenic and if you like roadside geology this is your place to ride/drive.  TX likes to tar and gravel the roads, so the ride is a bit bumpy.  However, traffic is so infrequent you can ride in the lane where the traffic has smoothed the road.

After waiting for favorable winds, I rode south on route 385 to Big Bend National Park.  The tailwinds, endorphins, and the incredible mountainous desert scenery had me feeling high so I pushed all the way to Rio Grande Village, the eastern most camping area and location of the hot springs that sit on the banks of the Rio Grande.  I didn't realize the hot springs were 5-6 miles on a dirt road from the backcountry camping areas, which were themselves down a 2-3 mile rough dirt road.  Fortunately, I got a lot of love in Big Bend.  The first people, Doug and Lynn from Iowa, I spoke to upon getting off my bike at the campground convenience store invited me to stay at their campsite and join them for an evening trip over to the hot springs in their truck.  They also fed me numerous hot meals and introduced me to another couple, Joan and Robert, from Alaska.    The next day Doug and Lynn went over to Mexico, and Joan, Robert and I explored Boquillas Canyon and Dugout Wells. Then in the evening we all had wine, cheese and crackers together.

The ride to Rio Grande Village at Big Bend National Park.  Scenery, low traffic, and smoother roads make riding in the park delightful.

In Boquilllas Canyon on the Rio Grande.  Mexico on the right.

Crackers, cheese, and wine, maybe some bourbon, with Doug, Lynn, Joan, and Robert at Rio Grande Village campground.

Then I rode up into the Chisos Mountains, one of the main attractions at Big Bend.  In the center of the mountains is Chisos Basin, which looks to be a caldera, but is actually not.  For my 32nd birthday I did my biggest climb of the trip, about 4,300 feet in about 30 miles, with some very steep grades.  The ride up was great, with increasingly cooler temperatures and jaw dropping scenery.  That night I camped with Joan and Robert at the campground, and they treated me to dinner at the Chisos Basin lodge when they found out it was my birthday.  We met Shelli (daughter) and Jeanette (mother) that evening, and I camped with them the next 2 nights while I did hikes up Emory Peak and Lost Mine Peak.

The ride up to Chisos Basin

On top of Emory Peak with a couple other friendly hikers.

A nice sunset looking through "the window" from the Chisos Basin Lodge restaurant patio.

Shelli and Jeanette were moving on but had reserved the campsite for another night so I stayed.  Then I got sick, again.  I woke up one morning running to the bathroom, which marked 2 days of nausea, diarrhea, fever, sleep, and no food.   Neighboring campers and the campground host came to my rescue bringing me gatorade, saltine crackers, and oatmeal.  The campground host whispered in my tent that I could stay as long as I needed at no charge and offered me access to the staff shower and laundry facilities.  Originally I planned to ride to the west part of the park to see Santa Elena Canyon and then ride out on dirt roads, but I wasn't feeling particularly adventurous at that point.  I rode out to the small towns on the west of the park, Study-Butte and Terlingua.   So now I have even more reason to make a return visit to Big Bend, the most beautiful place I have been on the trip so far.

Chisos Basin panorama.  Not a bad place to be stuck a couple extra days.

Madeline knows where Big Bend National Park is, and so should you.  It is a gem, and the least visited of our national parks.

Study-Butte has an actual grocery store.  A small place, but it sells produce and definitely far better than the extremely overpriced campground convenience stores in the park. Everyone told me to visit Terlingua, which was a ghost town that now attracts eccentric people and tourists.  There are only a couple places in town, one is the Boathouse, a bar and campground where I stayed, and the Starlight, a restaurant, bar and trading post.  Around sunset, locals gather at the Starlight to play music and have drinks.  I got an impromptu lesson on the wash-tub bass there. When I returned to the Boathouse, a talented young guy from Austin was playing his banjo with a local on the ukulele.  More people arrived with instruments and music continued much later than I could stay up.

The sunset behind the Boathouse, where I camped.

Then I rode from Terlingua to Presidio along the Rio Grande.  Everyone kept telling me about the big hill, which is apparently the steepest road in Texas at a 22% grade and about a mile long.  Nobody mentioned all the little hills.  The ride along the river was one of the most scenic I've done, but also incredibly challenging, made worse by 95 degree temperatures, strong head winds, and zero shade.  I drank over 5 liters of water and didn't pee all day.  Outside of Presidio I was hoping to stealth camp, which I found to be very difficult in west TX given the border patrol presence and lack of trees to hide behind.  A guy in a pickup told me I was best off getting to Presidio, so I did, and found an RV park where I got a place to pitch my tent, hot shower, along with some company and a cold beer for $10. Much better than sleeping in the thorny brush.  The Border Patrol still found me.  As I was setting up my tent in the dark an SUV came barrelling through the RV lot toward me.  The officer thought I was an illegal travelling by bike.

On top of "the big hill" on route 170

Route 170 is full of nice vistas of the Rio Grande and surrounding mountains.  Mexico on the left, US on the right.

Next stop was Marfa, the home of the Marfa lights and the large scale art work of Donald Judd.  The art museums were closed the day I was there, but I did get to see the Marfa lights.  At the place I was camping, El Cosmico, there was a group of friends from Austin having a 30th birthday celebration for a guy named Dan.  I hung out with them and then for a trip out to the Marfa Lights Viewing Station after dark.  Nobody seems to have a good explanation for the strange moving orbs of light on the horizon, but they are most definitely there.

The road to Marfa

From Marfa I rode up into the Davis Mountains, where the temperatures are cooler and the landscape is covered with evenly spaced cedar trees.  I think this area may have the perfect climate. Those mountains are home to the McDonald Observatory and a Warmshowers host that lives and works there.  John gives you a place to sleep as well as a personal tour of the observatory and a mind numbing amount of information about geology, astronomy and telescopes.  It is best to brush up on your linear algebra and calculus before your visit.

From the observatory.  Note the trees!  Not a great day for pictures, but the skies cleared up for the astronomers to do their thing after dark.

Next destination was the Guadalupe Mountains National Park, which I reached via my first interstate riding into Van Horn (trucker town) and then north up desolate route 54.   I hadn't slept in a bed in weeks or done anything to treat myself for my birthday, so I decided to treat myself to a $30 motel room in Van Horn.  The bed, WiFi, heat, TV with HBO, and mini-fridge were not taken for granted.  As it turned out I needed every bit of that rest to get up to the park.  The ride up route 54 was just over 65 miles, about 3,000 feet of climbing, and took over 7 and 1/2 hours at less than 9 mph thanks to a 20-40 mph headwind.  But the scenery was nice.

The final climb up to Guadalupe National Park, which was a lot more fun coming back down.

At Guadalupe Mts National Park I met more nice people and had a great time.  The first day I hiked up to Guadalupe Peak, the highest point in TX at 8,751ft and met Doug, Diana, Richard, and Carol on the trail.  They were camping across the road from me and invited me over for dinner (salad, ravioli, homemade brownies, and beer), a very special treat since the last grocery store was in Van Horn and the next was in El Paso, over 100 miles west.  The second day I lucked out again when another neighboring camper, Leon, invited me along to Carlsbad Caverns.  Everybody told me to visit the caverns, but I wasn't going to make the very windy 70+ mile round trip ride since it was out of the way.  Leon and I had a great visit, and also stopped at Mckittrick Canyon for a hike on the way back.

At the summit of Guadalupe Peak.  Windy!

The very scenic trail up to Guadalupe Peak

Ravioli dinner and good company!

This picture does no justic to the awesomeness of Carlsbad Caverns.  Put in on your list of places to visit if you haven't already.  And be sure to walk down the natural entrance rather than take the elevator.

The timing for my departure worked out great, as on Saturday morning the wind was whipping out of the east northeast.  My 110 mile trip west to El Paso at over 15 mph average speed took me 25 mins less than my previous 65 mile ride.  Other than a flat tire and some busy traffic the ride on route 180 was uneventful.  The last 30 miles into El Paso has a very nice descent.

Everyone told me to avoid El Paso, as it is a horrible dangerous place.  Those people have apparently not been to El Paso.  Ciudad Juarez across the border has major crime problems, but El Paso is one of the safest cities of its size in the U.S.  Everyone was nothing but friendly to me and I found the city to be very pleasant.   Ben and Sarah, a young couple relatively new to El Paso, are enthusiastic about making the city a bicycle friendly place (www.velopaso.com) and they host touring cyclists.  I stayed for a couple nights while I got some much needed rest, ate good healthy food, and played with Enu, their very sweet playful dog.  And after a short ride I was out of Texas and into New Mexico, which I found out is just as windy and has the same kind of flat tire causing road debris as Texas.