Looking in the mirror this morning, I realize I got the haircut equivalent of a tattoo while I was in Mexico. And I wasn't even drunk.
I left the Eleven Inn at 10:00 and pedaled to the convenience store where I bought a turkey and cheese sandwich for breakfast. I washed it down with some chocolate milk. I also bought some Gatorade for the road.
Since the Esperanza Truck Stop, the ACA route has had me riding either on or next to I-10. I really dislike riding on the interstate, but out here in West Texas my options are limited.... there ARE no alternate routes. Fortunately, the shoulder, though cluttered with debris, is wide enough for me to stay far away from the vehicles blasting past me at 85 miles per hour.
The road is also becoming more level and straight.
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| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
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| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
I received a text message from Klaus this morning: "I am having donuts in Fort Davis. Yesterday hard ride but great landscape. Wilderness. Slept in the wild. Cheers."
The wind today was like a post-adolescent boy on his first date: calm and cool at first, but hot, heavy, and in your face by the end.
I was rolling along nicely at first, propelled by a nice tailwind, and I averaged almost 15 miles an hour.
After a couple of hours I calculated how long it would take me to get to Fort Stockton... one and a half hours.
Then the wind shifted. The pedaling became harder. My average speed dropped. An hour later I recalculated how long it would take me to get to Fort Stockton... one and a half hours.
The wind continued to shift, and eventually became a head wind. Pedaling became even harder. My average speed dropped. An hour later I recalculated how long it would take me to get to Fort Stockton... one and a half hours.
I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone.
The wind picked up speed. My pace continued to drop: 11 miles an hour... 8-9... 7... 6... 5... Now I was in first gear.
One and a half hours.
I stopped at a rest stop and took this picture.
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| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
During the last ten miles of the day, my knee started hurting again.
I was really glad to see Fort Stockton's giant roadrunner.
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| From Mark on a Bike 08 2 |
When I was within sight of my hotel, I met another bicyclist, 28-year-old Mike O'Connor. He started in Florida and is heading West. He's had some great tail winds which enabled him to do more than a hundred miles a day a couple of times. He was near New Orleans when Hurricane Ike hit and had to take a bus back to Florida, then return and resume his trip a week later. We chatted on the side of the road, but I forgot to take his picture.
Fortunately for my knee, tomorrow is an off day. I have plans, so I can't really call it a rest day. I lived in Texas most of my life, yet never made it to Big Bend National Park. I've heard it's beautiful, and worth going to, but if you look at it on a map it's not on the way to ANYwhere. Before starting this trip I decided to rent a car and spend a day driving around inside the park.
As luck would have it (mine), Jim Reid, a friend of mine from Munday, has also been wanting to see it so he spent five hours in a car today and met me in Fort Stockton.
He pulled up to the motel just as I finished checking in.
I did some laundry and spent a couple of hours uploading pictures, then we went to Pizza Hut so I could "carb load."
Oh yeah, I'm not riding tomorrow. Oh, well.
We'll be getting an early start tomorrow so I went to bed early.
The shipping date for my computer was delayed again. Rat bastards.
54.15 distance
1111.3 total
(Apparently, I must've leaned against the cyclometer because it reset some time today. I calculated today's mileage from the total mileage)
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