May 6:
Biggest day yet. 116 miles into Dumas, TX. The VFW was the only place in Clarendon serving breakfast. I thought it was odd that none of the patrons were friendly at all, though the volunteer staff was. The 31 miles to Claude, TX, (yesterday's target) was an easy ride with only a slight cross/headwind - I'm glad I didn't make it last night as it's just a crossroads gas station, really. When I started north on Hwy 207 the tailwind made me fly 45 miles all the way through Panhandle & into Borger, TX - an ugly coal power plant town. Along the way I startled a small antelope herd jumping fences to cross the highway such that one was on one side of the road & 7 were in the other side. They're so intimidated by the not-moving-at-a-speed-we-recognize bicycle that they'd run ahead a few hundred yards, turn, look, see me still coming, & take off again. This went on for a few miles & it was a really fantastic distraction to see these beautiful ungulates bounding through the dry prairie. 207 continued to Stennit through some hot, dry but pretty canyon country over the Canadian River & up some long but low grade hills. I refilled water bottles at an isolated house spigot (thanks, lady!) & set off on Hwy 152 into a 20-25 mph headwind for the 31 miles to Dumas. Tough finish to the long day & I stopped every 3-4 miles to ease the growing physical & headspace strain. Around 7:45 the wind ceased & the last 6 miles were an easy roll into a nice twilight. Completely out of water, I pulled up to the first business I saw - liqour store! - then up pulled Cornel on his road bike. I'd seen him & waved as he was riding away from town about 15 miles out. He immediately offered his backyard up for the night so I bought some beer instead & followed him a mile to his place. We chatted until midnight, showing photos, talking riding & climbing, & making dinner. Very nice & a great, spontaneous, friendly cap to an ambitious & mixed day of riding that also now has me back on schedule.
May 8:
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Image courtesy Todd Lindley. Gust front ~ 60mph winds
http://home.grandecom.net/~claire/Storms.html |
71 miles - not quite to Clayton, NM (more on that later). Cornel made coffee & oatmeal for breakfast & I was on the road at 830, & we'd made plans for him to catch me in Hartley, TX, 25 miles west on Hwy 87 & we'd lunch in Dalhart, TX. The headwind was soft so progress was easy & I had time for a chat with a tobacco-plug-chewing cotton farmer repairing a fence. Cornel started later than planned so I waited for him 2 miles outside of Dalhart & we asked around til we found a great little hole-in-the-wall mexican joint where we both had pork & a few gallons of lemonade. Cornel decided to ride another 20 miles with me before turning around & we headed west on 87 into a slow but hot & dry wind. Rear flat #1 happened about 10 miles later. Patch with the NAPA tire patch kit held for 6 miles & Cornel decided he'd better head back (112 mile day for him!). Patch held for 7 miles & some cowboys turned their truck & loaded horse trailer around to see if this yokel in the middle of nowhere needed a hand. I told 'em I'd make it to Clayton, NM, if the last patch held & they reluctantly left me there to suffer my fate. 8 miles later the last patch blew & I was now stranded 16 miles from Clayton but before I could even sort out what was left to try, Jason & his brothers & dad had pulled over, loaded my stuff in the back if their pickup, put me in the (nicely air-conditioned) front seat, & hauled me across the Texas stateline at Texline. I was disappointed not to be riding or get another state sign picture but these fellows - heading out for a Colorado fishing vacation - were awesome to drop me at the Super 8 in Clayton. With the next day being Sunday & Mother's Day, I knew I'd better sort out the tube situation right away & started walking the town, asking everyone I saw if they had or knew someone who had a mountain bike so I could try to buy whatever they had. No luck until I walked into the tourist information center. Jerry Phillips immediately said, "Get in my car! The hardware store closes in 15 minutes & nothing's open on Sundays in this town!" I was very surprised that the local hardware store actually had some biking supplies but Bruce Isaacson of Isaacson's Hardware (now Bruce had played tuba in Jerry's HS band many, many years ago & his super sweet mom - who had owned the store for 80 years! - had been disappointed to discover that, in fact, a tuba was not too big to carry home for practice! Haha!) not only found me tubes & tires but also lent me a cordless drill & a bit so I could drill out the rim's valve opening to acommodate the larger valves on the only tubes he had! Back in business! ... Nope. Even though all the boxes said "26 inch," they weren't & all the new stuff was too big for my rims. Damn! I suspected I could pack the too-big tubes into my old tire so drilled the rim only to discover that the rim was actually split near two of the spoke nipples - trouble & maybe a tour-stopping disaster if they opened up any further but, hey, what was I gonna do but give it a go? I stuffed a tube into the old tire & beat up rim, pumped it up super high, & let it sit to see if it'd hold pressure. Jerry had suggested we have dinner so he came by & we started a magical evening together. He was the high school's former band director & the current historical researcher at the Hertzstein Museum. After some good grubbin' at the Rabbit Ear Cafe, Jerry drove me out to see a local metal artist's big pieces before dark fell. He knew the folks refurbishing the local 1910 Eklund Hotel so he got to show me around this fantastic space filled with interesting furniture, artifacts, bullet holes, antique bar, & stylish old-style rooms! Rae would've loved it & I'd love to bring her back for a stay. Then it was off to the museum in this beautiful, converted, 1910 Episcopalean, 3-story stone chapel stuffed with a fascinating collection: a stunning wreath hand stitched by a 16-year-old prairie girl, quilts, toys, & a whole slew of things related to the town's botched execution of notorious criminal Black Jack Ketchum. A series of mistakes led to a decapitation instead of a hanging - the pictures are horrifying! Jerry dropped me at the hotel & I asked him to return the drill & unusable bike supplies to Isaacson's. Meanwhile, Cornel knew I might be stuck & had tried to talk an Amarillo endurance athlete & bike store owner to drive to Clayton with whatever I needed but, not surprisingly, Mother's Day plans prevented this off-the-wall idea from happening. Awesome bid to help me out, though, & the thoughtfulness touched me. I absolutely, totally dig having all kinds of cool, interesting, spontaneous things like this day happen on my adventure & feel lucky when a mishap or tough circumstances turn into something wonderful - it makes me feel like I'm livin' my life right. What a day!
May 8:
102 miles into Comanche Grasslands National Park. Happy Mother's Day to my mom, Kathy, stunningly hot wife, Rae, daughter, Rachel, daughter-in-law, Heather, & sister, Judi! Jerry & I made plans last night to meet for breakfast at the Rabbit Ears Cafe (the ONLY place open Sundays) at 8. My phone somehow didn't make the change to Mountain Standard Time (too close to the border for the GPS to discern, I guess) so I woke him up early & used the extra hour to stretch since I'd not done it last night. I met the new chef of the Hotel Eklund while stretching - weird dude who'd done a little touring in his college days in New York. Jerry had a friend, Jeanie, meet us at breakfast & this town darling brought me some bottled water to take along. As I was loading up, the local photographer & reporter that Jerry had called showed up to snap a few pictures & ask a few questions. Jerry promised to mail the paper if it gets included! Well, what with all the fun & luck I'd had in Clayton I was reluctant to leave & if I'd known what was ahead I might not have. Relentless 20 mph headwind for 50 miles ... so bad that at one point I called Rae to contemplate quitting. It's just so exhausting mentally & physically when you can see the road heading straight into that wind for what looks like forever ... well, I am apparently subject to some doubts about my ability & willingness to push through. I finally made it to Des Moines, NM, around 4 & since I thought I had only tortillas in the panniers, I stopped for a burger & coffee. It was another 8 miles of headwind to Folsom. As I approached town, a cowboy pulled his pickup alongside to hand me a cold Vitamin Water - love rural generosity! I refilled the water bottles at a pump outside the town's museum (why a town with nothing else had a museum confounded me) & chatted with the cowboy running it. Finally, some easy miles! 8 to be exact but it was a beautiful ride up & out of Tanglewood Canyon, across the Colorado state line, & a headwind-impeded descent into Branson, CO. A makeshift picnic area at the town's historic prairie jail had a pump where I luckily refilled the water bottles & took long, satisfying gulps before heading out. It was 7pm & I was at 71 (hard) miles but there was literally nothing in Branson. I knew it was 100+ miles to La Junta & decided I'd get some more of that out of the way so I could be there Monday. Heading north with wind finally at my back, my mood lightened immediately. It's so funny to know going into a tour that there will be some suffering but I have a hard time managing the frustration of days of fierce headwind, but I guess it's good that I can pop back into an expansive mood with the prospect of free miles. 10 miles at near 20 mph & I'm giddy & I turn east into Hwy 160 as the sun sets. Well, the wind's died & I find no traffic on this backcountry road so I flip on some bike lights & enjoy easy windless miles, a rising moon, & grazing ungulates. I thought I had only 3 or 4 tortillas left for dinner so decided that I should ride to within at least 10 miles of the next town, hunker down, & hope I find food in the morning. I finally pull over an hour or so after dark & roll the bike onto the prairie of Comanche Grassland NP. I'm delighted to find in the bottom of the pannier a foil packet of rice, a foil packet of tuna, & half an onion - dinner! I stretch briefly then lay in the bag under the stars of the Milky Way, listening to just the slight breeze lulling me gently to sleep. I'm so pleased that a hard day ended so exquisitely.
May 9:
70 miles to La Junta, CO. 7-1. Wow! Easy miles! Tailwind for the 10 miles into Kim, CO, where I'm delighted to find the country market makes breakfast. An old cowboy patron refilled my coffe for me when Anita was busy - hospitality & thoughtfulness in rural America ... wow. I spot a raptor flying low through some trees &, oddly, land in a field. Immediately, another raptor descends to mount her - Animal Planet! Heading north on Hwy 109 I have only 5 miles into the wind & cruise the 58 miles into La Junta with a joyous heart. I'll see Rae tomorrow! I find Carol tending her garden & she directs me to the visitor center & tells me about the town's museum, dinasour tracks, Indian dances that night, Boy Scout campground, ... too cute! I find a cheap hotel, have a burger for lunch, mail postcards, buy beer, get my Amtrak ticket, & scrounge boxes & tape so I can make a bike shipping box. Pizza, beers, NBA playoffs, sleep. I can hardly believe Phase 1 of FLASK is finished & I'm so glad I was open & aware during this start of the adventure because sometimes I keep my head down & heart closed. So many kind, generous, engaging people & fantastically aware moments to carry home with me. Now home to Rae ...
