First thing's fist - there is nothing in Western Texas. Have you ever seen a road map of Texas? Find that big open area where there's only one road and a ton of open space...yeah, that's where we are.
Someone should also let Verizon know that this part of the country exists, since my cell phone seems utterly useless out here. It can be quite pleasant though - no traffic, expansive views, and people who appreciate the simple things in life (although TJ and I still can't figure out what on earth anyone out here does for a living).
The biggest down side to all this? The longing for civilization. What I've come to learn is that is that if you put two cyclists in the middle of nowhere, the only words spoken are centered entirely around food. Our days revolve around the images of pumpkin pie, donuts, milk shakes, and cookies - I'm getting hungry just recapping all our obscenely long conversations about food. So the problem? There is no food - every town we find is all but deserted. The last "grocery store" we found was run out of a women's house, and measured about 10 square feet. The world of food security is behind us, replaced with miles and miles of empty desert, and towns with populations you can almost count on one hand.
It's a different way of life out here, were $38,000 can buy you 110 acres of land but a sandwich costs a fortune. The geography is striking, and changes around every turn. One moment you could be staring at a vast river, only to be replaced with an aired canyon the next. Mountains in the distance suddenly flatten into enless expanses of desert, which some how turn into Ozark-like hills a few miles later.
If there is one thing that we will never forget though, it's the people. It seems that everyone is our best friend, always willing to help us out. Conversations that should last a number of seconds go on forever, never reaching a moment of awkward silence. It's almost fascinating to witness, but certainly a welcome break from our days spent surrounded by an endless desert.
Western Texas has certainly shown us the good, the awesome, and the crazy (actually, even the crazy was pretty awesome). At the end of the day though, we're just glad that we're visiting.
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Day 8: Sanderson to Marathon, TX:
In the morning, we finally found the grocery store. It was hidden away on the far northern part of town, in a women's house. Apparently the main grocery store closed down, so this women took it upon herself to supply the town with bare essentials. For a town with a population less than 350, I'm sure you can imagine what the store was like. Luckily she had everything we needed for the next leg of our trip.
Sunrise from our spot at the Inn:
Of all the days that I've ever spent on a bicycle, this was possibly the worst. At 55 miles, it was supposed to be easy. 55 miles all up hill with a headwind? Worst day ever.
Not an exaggeration:
It's actually pretty hilarious though - since we're moving steadily towards the mountains, every day we're gaining elevation. Whenever we get into a town and talk to someone about where we came from, they say something like, "that would have been a really nice ride going the other way." Thanks, we know.
We spent the entire day (still on Route 90), traversing the Sanderson Canyon. Constantly being surrounded by such a large geographic formation made for pretty interesting riding, although we were still counting down the seconds until we arrived in Marathon.
TJ's "I'm so pissed off, this bike ride sucks" face:
Finally - the short decent after the climb out of Sanderson Canyon, into Marathon:
The coolest thing about Marathon? A free bike hostel:
The place is run by Mike and Ingrid, and it's possibly one of the most awesomely strange places I've ever seen. Mike is a self-taught mason who built the whole place out of stone and papercrete. The grounds are decorated with old bike rims, rusted out cars, and pretty much every other random item Mike managed to scavenge for free.
The worst thing about Marathon? Every thing is crazy expensive. TJ and I went looking for dinner in the only open restaurant, which had a $45 steak dinner...pass. We did however find $1.50 containers of cottage cheese at the local grocery store. Mix that with pasta, and we were in business. Plus the hostel had a copper fireplace that we utilized to it's fullest potential. Nothing better than burning stuff in the middle of the desert.
That night we slept great, fully showered and on actual beds. Even better, we're off to Big Bend in the morning!
Miles Barely Survived: 55
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Day 7: Seminole Canyon to Sanderson, TX:
Finally, a morning free of bike problems. No flats and no Texas Mud.
Breaking camp and watching an incredible sunrise:
One thing about Texas during this time of year - it's freezing in the morning. The nights can get down to around 45 degrees, which makes getting out of the tent a pretty fantastic time.
The ride out of Seminole Canyon was really beautiful. We went over the Pecos River a few miles out of the park, which was a huge canyon below an equally huge bridge:
Continuing our extended traverse of Route 90, we found that Texas was now nice enough to not only build bridges, but to plow right though hilltops! Although it seems pretty unnecessary (there are still hills, they're just a few feet shorter than they would otherwise be), every little bit helps:
We saw some more canyons along the way:
And perhaps the strangest sight of all...a VW Bug on blocks in the middle of nowhere:
Despite the amazing scenery, the first leg of this tip was a disaster. Perhaps the run yesterday destroyed our legs, or perhaps all these easy days were just making us sissy's. Whatever it was, TJ and I were both ready to keel over on the side of the road. Luckily, the unbelievably small town of Langtry (try finding that on a map) came just in time. We rolled into the only store in town and sat down for some coffee and homemade pineapple cake. Thank you Langtry - you saved our lives.
After a nice hot cup of coffee, the first 70 miles of our ride were a little more pleasant. We plowed through the rolling desert terrain during an absolutely beautiful day:
Welcome to Western Texas: The Post-Apocalyptic Wasteland. Kansas has corn, Utah has beautiful sandstone canyons, Colorado has mountains, Texas has...nothing. Endless nothing, for miles and miles:
As we approached our final destination of Sanderson, the terrain shifted for the worst. We found ourselves climbing a descending tons of short, steep hills, which our tiny legs struggled to get over after the 70 miles of fast riding. 15 miles later we found ourselves finally rolling into town, which was nestled within the beautiful Sanderson Canyon.
Despite it's location, Sanderson proved to be possibly the strangest town of them all. The downtown was all but deserted, with every shop boarded up and not a grocery store in sight. The one sign of civilization was a gas station at the far end of town, which TJ and I became all too familiar with.
We did however find some free camping on the lawn of the Budget Inn, which came bundled with barking dogs, a bar across the street blasting crappy Mexican music, and a light directly above our heads that kept flickering on and off. Best night's sleep ever.
Big Bend in two days!
Miles Crushed: 70
Miles Crushed By: 15
Total Miles: 85
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Day 6: Del Rio to Seminole Canyon:
Today would be yet another low-mileage day, bringing us to Seminole Canyon State Park where we planned on camping for the night.
TJ trying to bring all the water with us:
The ride to the park was beautiful, flat, and fast, taking us through the Amistad National Recreation Area (basically a huge reservoir):
See that land past the bridge? Our first sighting of Mexico:
Fast and flat...with a tail wind:
Finally we made it to our destination - Seminole Canyon State Park:
We weren't quite sure what to expect from a State Park in the middle of a desert, but we did sign up for the guided tour. It ended up being pretty awesome, taking us down inside the canyon to see ancient petrographs and petroglyphs.
Huge statue at the entrance:
Our tour guide pointing out some petrographs:
Walking through the canyon:
A mix of ancient petrographs (top) and more modern signatures from railroad workers (bottom):
Views of the famous Fate Bell Shelter:
More shots from the canyon excursion:
After the tour we returned to the visitor's center to grab our bikes and found my front tire unfortunately flat. A disappointing sight but luckily we had a spare tube loaded with Stan's ready to go.
We rode out to the campsite, set up camp, and went on a really cool 5 mile run along the canyon rim to the Rio Grande.
That night we stumbled upon Bill, Ed, and Phillip, three nurses from Fort Worth. They invited us to have dinner and a few beers with them, which was an amazing end to the day.
Miles Crushed: 45
Flat Tires: 1
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Day 5: Brakettville to Del Rio, TX:
There is nothing worse than Texas mud. It's sticky, it gets everywhere, and it almost caused TJ to crash...about five times. If the ground is wet, Texas mud is not far away.
TJ, before he realized the wheels of his biked were locked up with nasty mud:
Attempting to fix the damage:
Once our tires were spinning free, we headed out of Brakettville towards Del Rio. It was a pretty short day, since we had to make good use of our time in the city. Del Rio would be the last developed area we would travel through for a few hundred miles...
Nothing too exiting here, pretty flat and easy day. We also got our first taste of Route 90, which we wouldn't be diverting from for a long time:
Lesson One (Actually I already learned this one a long time ago): Never bring two hungry cyclists to a grocery store. We left too much food, including a whole pumpkin pie. No, the pie did not last a reasonable amount of time.
A trip to the bike shop, some delicious Texas-style BBQ, and a few milk shakes later, we found ourselves camping in the back of the Volunteer Fire Department. After a great night's sleep, we set off for our next stop - Seminole Canyon National Park.
Miles Lazily Biked: 35
Pumpkin Pies Consumed: 1
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