Klaus tours with German precision: He has a GPS AND a cyclometer mounted on his handlebars. He has an iPhone, which has wireless internet, google maps, and a host of other capabilities.
On a spreadsheet he records his daily mileage, speed, altitude gained, average speed, time spent from when he begins pedaling in the morning to when he stops pedaling at the end of the day (counting breaks), time spent just pedaling (not counting breaks), number of breaks, and a few other items I can't remember.
In a different book, his Defect Log, he records each flat tire, broken spoke, and all of the maintenance done on his bike.
For his photography, he carries two cameras, a telephoto lens, and some drives to store his pictures (his camera records them in raw data instead of' jpeg format so they take up an enormous amount of space).
He's considering purchasing some software that will connect his GPS and cameras. It will record where, when, and in which direction his camera was pointing when the picture was taken, then show you on googlemaps.
Klaus also records how much money he spends, to the penny, and on what... food, camping, hotels, etc.
All of that, and he STILL finds time to pedal.
Maybe I can convince him to start blogging in his spare time.
This is a picture of his rear fender:
 |
| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
I slept until 9:00, yet still felt washed out all day.
We left at 10:00 and started pedaling under overcast skies. It's supposed to rain today.
 |
| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
 |
| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
Our progress was slow most of the day because of the 15-mph side/headwind, and my right knee started hurting.
About midmorning we stopped for a break on the side of the road and a javalina sprinted away from us. They're REALLY fast. It was gone before I could get out my camera. After seeing that the wild pig ran AWAY from us instead of TOWARD us, Klaus was somewhat reassured. People have been telling him horror stories about what they can do.
There weren't any towns, but there was a Truck Stop at exit 159. Klaus bought some coffee; I bought some hot tea. While we were there it began raining, but only briefly.
We continued riding and the wind shifted slightly so that we almost had a tailwind. Almost a tailwind is better than almost a headwind, and both of them are way better than the headwind we'd been thrusting ourselves against all morning.
We stopped in Kent for our lunch break. Kent isn't really a town. It's simply one old, tired store disguising itself as a town. All of the other buildings (both of them) were boarded up.
I managed to eat some cheese and crackers while looking at the map and the weather.
At Kent, the non-town, we'll be turning south, straight into a 15-mph headwind. It's the beginning of a 37-mile, 2,000-foot climb to the McDonald Observatory. Our reward for this feat? Sleeping outside in the cold with no shower or hot water.
Since we began riding together, Klaus has been regularly quoting Nietzsche, the German (of course) philosopher. "That which does not kill me makes me harder." Interestingly, he uses the word "harder" instead of "stronger." He explains that the original German word means "hard," "resilient," in spite of the common translation I'd heard most of my life.... “That which does not kill me makes me stronger.”
(I hypothesized that the alternate meaning of "hard" may have had a hand in why we translate it as "strong," but that's probably just my twisted sense of humor)
A 37-mile, 2,000-foot climb into a 15-mph headwind, then dry camping? That WOULD make me harder.
Or perhaps kill me.
I sit in the non-town of Kent and think about it. And this is what I conclude:
I am soft.
I decide I'm NOT going to turn south. In spite of my hesitancy to go ANY town that ends in "-rhea," I'll continue on I-10 and head toward Balmorhea, which is downhill AND with the wind.
Klaus is determined to turn south. He likes challenges, and he's up for this one. He even seemed excited. Just before we went our separate ways, his eyes afire, he said, "I have a good feeling about this."
He is hard.
We said our goodbyes and promised to keep in touch.
 |
| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
I flowed down the road toward my stop for the night. I didn't have to pedal too much, and it's a good thing, because by the end of the day I couldn't use my right knee at all... it hurt that bad.
Although I was on I-10 there were only a few cars. I averaged about 20 mph, barely managing to keep it under the posted speed limit.
 |
| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
The road is cut through the hills.
 |
| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
The mountains, now becoming more distant, are still beautiful. I thought of Klaus climbing up them, and realized with a small amount of sadness that this will be my last long downhill (at least until my next trip!).
 |
| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
In Balmorhea (pop. 527), I stayed at the Eleven Inn, where I met Cecelia, the manager. She came out of the adjoining room where she had been watching the Dallas Cowboys on TV. She was about 5' 2" and thick, and had the raspy voice of a long-time smoker.
 |
| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
 |
| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
As is my custom with the locals I asked her where the best place to eat in town was. She told me, "That's easy, unless you want to eat at the grocery store. We've only got one place," then pointed out a Mexican food cafe one block over.
After a quick shower and a stroll to the Bear's Den (the Balmorhea Bears), I continued to work on my goal of eating authentic Mexican food at every possible opportunity.
While I was there, I thought I might ask the waiter how the town got its name, but after waiting fifteen minutes to order dessert I finally just got up, paid, and left.
Now I guess I'll never know.
70.05 miles
13.7 average
33.0 max (I remember seeing this on the way to Balmorhea. I wasn't even pedaling)
5:06:29 time
1057.1 total (should I have a beer?)
0 comments:
Post a Comment