Texas ditch in bloom

I implemented my tropical strategy today. I didn’t bike from noon to five; because “only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun”. For me it was the 30 to 50 kph SSW winds more than the 30C temperature.  I could have cycled a record distance if I turned around and pedaled north.

Texas Hwy 19 is a good route south.  Though not too busy, this two-lane road has smooth, four-meter wide  paved shoulders.  After 5 pm I took the busy two-lane Hwy 154 to my camp at the Lake Fork Resort,( site of many Bass fishing tournaments).  I constantly checked my rear-view mirror, ready to bail onto the soft and inconsistent shoulder.  After 16 km, a wide, but rough, shoulder materialized at the county line.

April in East Texas

Strong headwinds again today, but not as hot; so I pushed on all day at only 18 kph, over 8 hours in the saddle. I met the most dangerous challenge of the journey. I biked 35 km between Athens and Palestine with no shoulder on a busy two-lane East Texas highway, cars & trucks rushing by at 105 kph (65 mph).  Hwy 19 had a wide shoulder all the way from Paris, then next to nothing.  I  kept rapt attention to my rear-view mirror and hit the ditch for a few too-close calls.  I survived, but I do not recommend this route to other cyclists.

Thunderstorms rolled through at night and moved on by the time I hit wet roads at 10 am.  This route takes me through historic county seats like Canton, Palestine and Crockett. With the late start and constant headwinds I only get as far as the NW end of 50 km long Lake Livingston, not to the State Park on the SE end.  I set up my hammock in a nice, redneck RV park. A Hank Williams-style crooner repeats the same song amplified through-out the park. I prefer his trying to perfect that one song to a closer, competing  campfire boom-box.

Fixing my first flat on the Fred Hartman Bridge.

I’ve crossed the 30th parallel, one-third of the way to the equator from 45 degrees North.  I’ve cycled across 15 degrees of latitude in 18 days.

The unrelenting south winds blew all night.  Great White Pelicans soar gracefully over the whitecaps on Lake Livingston.  All this lakeshore was newly created in 1969 by damming the Trinity river.  After I cross the Trinity, East Texas gets very flat. Many streams are called bayous, but I see no alligators in the water-filled ditches.  I pushed hard all day trying to make it to my brother’s place south of Houston where my parents are waiting to meet me.  I struggled to keep my average speed above 19 kph, but gusts of 50 kph would knock that speed in half.  I’m almost to the Gulf of Mexico, but still 60 km away from Chip & Cherry’s.

I had my first flat tire today, on the Fred Hartman bridge.  There was a lot of debris on the shoulder of this multi-lane highway.  It wasn’t glass, but a tiny shard of metal that was hard to dig out of the tire.  I thought it would be too dangerous to stop and take a photo, but I had to stop to fix the flat anyway so I also took a photo.  I met Mom & Dad and Chip & Cherry at Gilmore Elementary School.  When Madison & Will got out, we biked home together.  My little brother Chip is running barefoot behind me in the photo at the start of the 1975 trip.  Now Chip is a rocket scientist who helped put up the Space Station.

The 1907 Hotel Blessing

After four days of R & R at Chip & Cherry’s I’m back on the road with new clothes and clipless pedals. ( I think it’s more accurate to call clipless pedals “clip-in pedals”.) I lightened my load by sending some stuff home. I also added photos back to Day One on this blog.  I hated to miss yesterday’s SE tailwind;  it was supposed to continue today, but I’m back to battling the south winds of Texas. Though it seems like I complain about the weather, I’ve actually been very lucky.  Houston’s been hit by heavy rains, including major flooding the morning after my arrival.  I’ve worn rain gear for only one hour in my first month.  I’m staying at the historic 1907 Hotel Blessing, sharing a bath with the room next to mine for $30 a night. The shared bath might have been embarrassing since the barrel bolt won’t latch to keep out my neighbor.

I had my second flat tire today.  Little did I know that I was soon to be re-educated on the subject of fixing flats.  I could not hear the leak due to noisy winds and reluctantly put on my spare tube; even though without finding the cause of the puncture, the new tube might puncture from same. I crossed the first of three long bridges along the gulf coast. I was pulled over by the Texas State Patrol after crossing the 4 km long Lavaca Bay bridge.  Dozens of cars moved over a lane as they passed to give me room.  Two did not, coming within half a meter of me. One of them called the police to report she’d almost hit a cyclist who shouldn’t be on the bridge.  I was escorted the last half kilometer and politely told it is too dangerous for me to bike on that bridge.  The trooper also advised me not to go into Mexico: “It’s too dangerous there.”  “More dangerous than this bridge?” I replied.

I’ve been heading mostly west from Houston, but took a slight turn to the south at Tivoli, TX into headwinds of up to 60 kph.  I spent almost three hours cycling the last 40 km to Goose Island state park through incredibly flat, treeless and homeless terrain.  Though I do see some huge fields of milo; a grain sorghum related to corn but shorter, about one meter high.

Tight walkway on the Corpus Christi bridge

Each day is filled with new adventures, often banal.  I didn’t learn of today’s greatest challenge until the ten o’clock news.

I’m seeing many more water birds here on the Gulf coast, notably some Roseate Spoonbills; and two Crested Caracaras (not a water bird, but a falcon that acts like a vulture) on the King Ranch.  I crossed my second 3 km long bridge to Rockport at 7 am this Sunday morning.  With only one lane each direction it would have been the most dangerous of the three except for the very light traffic.  I’m learning that steering becomes difficult on this bike when the front tire is low.  I pump it up before crossing the high bridge into Corpus Christi at noon.  Yesterday’s Trooper advised me to use the walkway on this bridge.  My Bikebins have little clearance with the one meter width.  It is awkward for me to walk beside the bike, too.  I coast on the downside and tour the city’s shoreline parks before heading inland with a blessed easterly tailwind.  I pump up the slow leak on the front tire again at 3 pm; 200 strokes with a hand pump does it.  The only bike shop I find is closed Sundays.  I’m reluctant to patch it because without a spare, I’m stranded if something fails.  Exxon stations have 44 ounce (1.3l) fountain drinks (including Gatorade)  for 99 cents.  I guzzle several in this heat.  I pump up the front tire at 4:30, hoping to patch it in comfort when I get to a cool motel room.  I can see the town in the distance when I pump it up at 5:45 and am entering Kingsville when I pump it two more times at 6 and 6:10; but I’m not going to make it.  At 6:15 I realize I need to patch that tire, hot and tired as I am.  I find a bench in the shade and slowly patch it.  Why did I procrastinate?

Paul Douglas is the weatherman on the ten pm news from Corpus Christi. (He was a long-time Minnesota weatherman).  He informs me of my greatest challenge today.  It was a record-high 40 degrees Celsius (102F).

Mariam(17), Layla(13), Talal, Suzanne(11) & Patricia Elhaj

“McAllen, Texas Welcomes Back Winter Texans” reads the sign as I enter the lower Rio Grande valley on the Cinco de Mayo.  Most Winter Texans have departed as the temps have risen to the upper 30s Celsius (upper 90s Fahrenheit). Cycling here would have been more comfortable had I arrived a month earlier.  I’m spending a few days visiting with my old friend Talal Elhaj, who I lived with while attending the University of Minnesota from 1979 to 1983.  We’ve reconnected as if 25 years have not passed between us. I called him when I was one kilometer away for final directions, then had a flat tire before arriving.  I changed the inner tube and before long the spare went flat. I do not like those new-fangled glueless patches. Both flats were caused by glueless patches that leaked. Talal is married to Patricia, a pediatrician from Argentina.  Their three daughters Mariam, Layla, and Suzanne are a delightful mix of Palestinian, Italian (via Argentina) and American.  They live in a beautiful home that Talal is remodeling with a huge chandelier hanging from an atrium above the kitchen, domed lighting over two dining areas,  creative woodwork and artistic tiling in the pool with fountains and waterfalls. There are peacocks, guinea fowl, chickens, a macaw, and an aviary;  and a menagerie in the large wooded yard with dogs, ponies, emus, zebras, a donkey and an affectionate llama named David.

Al-Redwan Mosque, designed by Talal

Talal & the Al-Farouk Mosque

David & David

Creative tiling in the pool.