I'm stuck on the border
All I wanted is some peace of mind
Don't you tell me 'bout your law and order
I'm tryin' to change this water to wine
or beer!!
The Eagles
For the last two days we've been riding on state highway 90 going farther south into Texas. Last night we were about 200 yards from the Rio Grande and the Mexican border. Where we stayed is a story in itself...more about that later.
For me personally, the ride yesterday and today has gone to sh%^&%, Yesterday we had a 25-30 mph headwind pretty much all day, with gusts up to 40. According to the Adventure Cycling map, it's supposed to be a downhill from Sanderson to Del Rio. WELL, there are so many canyons that you go down and up out of on this route, that DOWNHILL is not a very fitting description. Not to mention when you do get a downhill for a half mile or so, the wind is blowing so hard in against you that you might as well be going UPHILL. It took us 5 hours, 57 minutes to go 61.69 miles, a 10.37 mph average -- that's a rip-off of a "downhill" in anyone's book. Aside from the headwind, the humidity is building -- the least of my discomforts at this point, but it certainly doesn't help. Then there's the scenery. I'm sorry....you couldn't GIVE me a piece of property down in this part of the country. Total Chihauhaun desert, low growing shrubs, sage, cactus, carcasses on the side of the road, circling vultures. People who live out here (and there are very, very few) are trying to get away from something/everything. The only redeeming memory from yesterday's landscape (for me) was a shrub that was blooming a small white flower that smelled very fragrant, and a herd of wild sheep or goats (couldn't tell exactly what they were).
So....after almost 6 grueling hours of headwind and hills, we finally rolled into the small town of Langtry. Home of Judge Roy Bean. There's a museum there in his honor. However, since it was after 5 pm when we arrived. everything was closed. No water, no store, no beer, no nothing. I had corresponded with a Warmshowers host in the town and was led to believe they had a "trading post", with a little store, campground, and motel. Well, it turned out to be a FEMA trailer at the intersection of highway 90 and state route 25 east. It used to be a trading post. Now it looks like something out of bombed out Beirut. While we were wandering through Langtry on the 25 loop, a women in a border patrol uniform slowed up and introduced herself as one of the owners of this place. "Just up the road a bit on the right, look for two FEMA trailers; tell Dan that Marcia says you're with Warmshowers and it's okay". By the way, a FEMA trailer is a travel trailer used by the Federal Emergency Management Administration to provide temporary shelter/housing for disaster victims. Not sure how Marcia and her husband ended up with them...
So we find this place and wander up to the one trailer that has an open door, and say "hello, Dan?" Out comes Dan with his two poodles. He was very welcoming and showed us around the place. The other trailer, our lodging for the evening, was actually much cleaner than where we stayed at the hostel. It truly had everything we needed -- water, bathroom, bed. Dan even managed to produce two beers and a can of fruit cocktail for our enjoyment. And...they have an above-ground swimming pool in the remains of the old trading post building. Nevermind we were too exhausted to bother with it. After showering, I cooked up a large batch of spaghetti, larger than either I or Rick would ever think about eating normally, and we ate the entire thing, along with a can of tuna. I never thought about tuna with spaghetti, but believe me, when the pickings are slim, you will eat just about anything to get in the carbohydrates and protein.
So, at sundown (which is about 8 p.m. around here), we were ready for bed. It's quite warm in the trailer bedroom - no cross ventilation. My neck is hurting, so I tell Rick I'm going to lay on the sofa for a bit with a bottle of frozen ice on it. I don't turn the lights on, just had my headlamp turned on red light. I go out into the living room/kitchen area, get the ice bottle, and am headed to the sofa (naked of course) when I see DAN walking stealthily up to our screen door. Our lights had been off for about 1/2 hour at this time. I held a pillow up in front of me, shine my red light on him, and ask (not very politely), "What are you doing here?" He mumbles something about remembering he had a couple of nice vegetables (I had asked earlier if he'd had any canned vegetables). I told him "We're trying to get some sleep right now". So he turned around and left, along with his annoying, barking little dogs who had been barking almost non-stop since we'd been there. (He must've taken them inside, because they finally stopped.) I truly believe he was planning to come in and rip us off, and blame it on the Mexicans the next day. Needless to say, Rick didn't sleep well last night. I took a sleeping pill.
This morning we headed out early (8 a.m.; that's sunrise in these parts) and hoping to make Del Rio. Comstock, the next town that has "all services" was
only 28 miles away.
Only 28 miles of more up and down canyons and headwinds (yes, even at 8 a.m. in the morning). It took us 3 hours, 20 minutes to make 28.16 miles, a whopping 8.mph average. My legs are like jello and my mind is like goo. Rick actually had to take aspirin for his neck/shoulders (and he hardly ever does). All I can think is if they have a motel in Comstock, I'm done for the day. And, there is one motel, the Comstock Motel. I was concerned that the Adventure Cycling group might be arriving there today and take all the rooms. Well, not them, but some rock painting group. When the motel proprietor told me that, I thanked him, started to cry, and walked out. Outside I managed to rally a little more emotion and start cursing. We went across the street to the only cafe in town and fortunately, they had beer as well as food. While there, the motel guy came over and said he'd had a cancellation so he would have a room for us if we still wanted it. After lunch, I almost considered going on, but I am SO tired, and the rooms were quite nice (though overpriced for this middle-of-nowhere place), so we checked in. I was even able to get some laundry done (which is good, since all our shorts and shirts are sweat and salt soaked and totally disgusting). And the motel appears to be in a safe place, right across the parking lot from the Comstock Border Patrol headquarters.
Tomorrow's forecast is less windy, so hopefully we'll have a better trip into Del Rio which is only 32 miles away.
