Days 13-15 - Uvalde

The road to Uvalde was mostly flat. It did not take me too long to get there. Ideally, I should have biked more, but there was no town after Uvalde for almost 35 miles.

Here are a few pictures from the ride:

Frio River. Must not be a perennial one.

I thought this was a tomb on the side of the highway 83 and that it was on the side of the road because the person probably met with an accident close to this site. But I learnt later in Mexico that these are merely "roadside memorials" not burial sites.

Notice that all of them are bulls. They stopped grazing and just stared at me. A couple of black bulls on an enclosed pasture that I crossed before this one even charged at me! Thankfully, the fence was strong enough.

Seeing these vast agricultural farms I was reminded of my discussion about agriculture with a French and an Algerian whom I met while hitchhiking from Paris.

This is one of the first views of the town Uvalde. It looked like I had arrived in a developing country. Something went serioulsy wrong with the trickle down effect in this part of the United States. I was in a restraunt and overheard a man, "I went to high school here. I left the town 20 years ago. I come back, and nothing has changed in Uvalde!"

When I arrived in Uvalde, I did not have a place to stay. I could not find a host either. It was almost 5pm. I decided to check out a cheap US motel. I was hoping it would turn into some kind of a crime scene at night but the only bothersome thing was that I could hear the conversations of the people next-door. It was cheap by US standards but not within my daily budget. For a combination of factors I was left reconsidering my decision to travel by bike. The major reason was US was more expensive than Latin America and getting to El Paso was going to take longer than I had expected. I wanted to be in Mexico already.

Days 11 and 12 - Lost Maples to Garner Park via Utopia

When I woke up, Thomas surprised me with his suggestion: he offered to speak with his friend, Chris, who lived near Garner State Park, to request him to host me. Thomas had already told me about Chris's wolves. I really wanted to meet the wolves. And so I agreed. So did Chris!

There were two routes to get there: one through a town called Leakey and the other through Utopia. Yes, Utopia! Obviously, I chose to go through the latter. Pete and Ray had suggested Leakey (perhaps for the scenic beauty along that route). But I wanted to be able to say that I have been to Utopia.

Here's what the ride looked like:

Sabinal River 

Some creek I crossed before entering Utopia

A sign about 200m from this point read : "Welcome to Utopia. It's a Paradise. Let's Keep It Nice." I stood out as an outsider. Nobody seemed approachable enough to talk to. I just rode through the town, sat in the Lost Maples Cafe, observed the local people, their enthusiasm for the local team called Buffs or Buffalos, and moved on. 

Buttermilk Pie at the Lost Maples Cafe. It was just sugar. Didn't taste of buttermilk at all. 

Caught this beautiful sunset right before a long downhill cruise. Unforgettable. 

On my way to Chris's place, I had mentally prepared myself not to feel scared of the wolves. I tried to think about the time spent with Surco (Long story short: I used to be phobic of dogs until I became friends with a dog, Surco, while working on a farm in Spain.)

Remember I told you how Texans have these grandiose parcels of land? I always wanted to enter one of those. When I finally arrived at about 7 pm, it turned out that Chris's home was not just a building but a few acres of land. He lived there with his wife, two wolves and some poultry. They moved to Texas only about a year ago.

Chris let me in, but we first had to get the wolves to feel comfortable in my presence. So we all went for a short walk. One of the wolves, Wolford, kept barking at me. I was just a wee bit scared. Chris explained that the wolves feel obligated to protect him, but seeing us walk together, they would gradually start feeling comfortable. He also forewarned me that they take quite a while to do that. He also anticipated that they would feel scared of Brownie when they would be able to see it the next morning. (It was parked in the dark.) He assured me that they would not harm me and urged me not to be guided by the demonisation of wolves in literature and cinema. He was right- it was the wolves that were more scared of me than vice versa. He even takes the wolves to a school to teach kids about animal behaviour.

Wolford, Chris and Laila. Unfortunately, I could not win their trust. They were scared of me till we said goodbye. Wolford kept barking at Brownie.

Anyway, we tried to let them be and started sharing our lives. Chris used to be a cop in Alaska. If you know Into the Wild, you would know Christopher McCandless. Chris was a cop when McCandless was found dead in the Magic Bus. He told me about his encounters with Grizzly bears- the largest one that he had to face stood 12 feet tall! It was the first time that I got to listen to a policeman's stories at length. He also shared with me the time that he spent while living on a boat and in the cabins that he built for himself there. I wished that the Force had existed in Alaska too.

Chris loves science and animals. The next day he showed me his workshop. He is constantly building something or the other, including bicycles. He won a competition recently in Dallas for building these studly speakers.

He does not even have a college degree in science!

He also showed these fossils of a Mastodon that he stumbled upon.

Do you see the clock in the picture? Chris made that. He showed me several of his creations.

We were watching something on the Sci channel. There happened to be three scientists of Indian origin on the show. Chris commented, "You Indians are too smart!"

Later that day, his daughter and grandchildren dropped by. His 12-year-old grandson, Ben, saw my bucket panniers and asked me, "Boy, aren't you carrying a lot of water?!" Thomas was right when he said that people would think I carry water in them.

We all watched the movie Noah. They went to get some pizzas. Meanwhile, Chris decided to take a look at my bike to make sure it did not require any repairs. He taught me how to "center" the brakes. He gifted me his chain-changing tool and a master link for the chain. He also suggested that I take the kickstand off. I agreed (But I now regret that. Sometimes when I have to take a leak on a highway and there is nothing to park Brownie against, I desperately miss the kickstand.) When it was time for them to leave, Ben said that he was hoping to become a Marine and that he would visit me in India if he managed to do that.

Later that night, when I told Chris that I was hoping to find conclusive answers at the end of my journey, he laughed, "The more you know, the more you wander." He did compliment me, however, for having the courage to go into the unknown. He said he would not talk me out of undertaking the grand journey through latin america but he would ask me to think twice before entering Honduras.

While saying goodbye the next day, he reminded me of what we had discussed earlier, "Fear is a sign of intelligence. You don't have to be tough; you have to be smart."

I set off for my next stop- Uvalde.

Day 10 - Lost Maples Park

About two miles away from Lost Maples, I experienced the best downhill cruise to date. I am pretty sure even Brownie enjoyed the flight.

I reached the "headquarters" of the park at about 2pm to find out that a camping spot cost $26! That was an atrocious amount for sleeping out in the cold. I asked the women at the reception if there was a discount for people from third world countries. They retorted, "Even Texas is a third world country!" (They were, of course, joking. Texas has oil. I also remember somebody telling me that Texas was the least affected state during the post-2008 economic slump in the US.) They obviously asked me where I was from and where I was headed. I told them I was biking to El Paso to get into Mexico from Juarez. Richard, a retired police officer (and now holding some office at the park), was also present. He scared me to death about biking to and through Mexico. I gave him a patient hearing. Meanwhile, the ladies offered a tent site away from the restrooms for $16. They even tried to find out if the campground in the nearest city was any cheaper. It wasn't. Seeing me all perturbed, one of them suggested that I could be the Park Host's guest. The one who suggested that was the Park Host. She was living with her family in a bus converted into an RV. That meant I only had to pay $6 (as entrance fee)! I don't think we introduced ourselves to each other. (I learnt much later that her name's Collette.) But she had notified her husband that I would soon be at their bus to set up my tent next to it. She told me his name was Thomas.

I went to the campsite where the bus was parked.

Lost Maples Park. This is the only area where Maple trees are found in the Texan desert. I was told that in summer the view is completely different with maple trees in full bloom and plenty of bees. 

Thomas loves cyclists. He used to cycle until he met with an accident. Collette was right: we got along immediately. Our conversations meandered through history, politics, culture and science. He told me, among various other facts and trivia, that it was recently decided in Texas not to include slavery, the Holocaust and the atrocities committed against the American indigenous people in the history textbooks. He also shared his family history with me (which included one of the first users of the telephone in Kentucky, they had to use several potato batteries to power a 30-second call). I am always envious of people when they talk elaborately about what their ancestors did, especially in the West. I wished family histories had been passed on similarly back home.

When it was time for lunch, he offered to make some sandwiches. That's when I got to see the interiors of the bus. It was quite ingenious of them to convert it into an RV. It had a bedroom, a kitchen and a living area. The budding nomad in me absolutely loved it.

A couple of hours later, when Collette's day got over at work, they drove me to the local convenience store which was four miles away. On our way, I saw the Lone Star Motorbike Museum. I made a mental note to visit it the next day (but forgot).

In the evening, we decided to light a bonfire and toast some marshmallows. (I finally learnt how to do it this time.) We tried to spot the Milky Way but couldn't. I did manage to spot two shooting stars. Collette told me how the Park staff discussed my bucket panniers. They had never seen them before and thought they made me look poor. Thomas commented that Mexicans would think that I carry water in them.

It became really cold. The canyon in the park, which is where we were, gets colder than the surrounding areas. I was dreading sleeping in the cold again. But Thomas and Collette probably noticed that and invited me to sleep on the couch in their bus. Collette made some soup. Thomas and I watched Trevor Noah make fun of the presidential primaries' election process and the speeches of the candidates.

I was quite happy in their company. I ate a lot that evening. I was glad I did not make it to the park the previous day.

From R to L: Thomas, Collette and I

Day 9 - Ingram to Highway 187

I bid goodbye to Mark and Ben. Mark offered two more cans of Coke. I took one and after having brunch at Whattaburger, set out for Lost Maples.

I did not regret opting for the new route along the Guadalupe. Here are some pictures:

Ingram's Stonehenge. I was taken aback to stumble upon this. It's only some local artist's capricious desire to create a stonehenge in Ingram. It's not a replica either. But it looked pretty.

Another victim of road rage.

Beyond this fence lay a beautiful section of the Guadalupe river. Notice what the sign reads. It boils my blood to see spots of natural beauty in Texas fenced off to the public. This is where they lost it- such spots must not be sold to private persons to begin with, and if they are, then they must be open to the public with some restrictions like in Scandinavia and Scotland.

What I thought would be my last view of Guadalupe

But I crossed the river several times

And then I entered Hunt- a quaint little town. One of the first buildings I saw was the fire department of Hunt run entirely by volunteers. I think I later crossed a ranch called the "World's End" and an eponymous road. Missed taking its picture.  

The red did not hurt my eyes. In fact, it became the barn.

Last admirable view of the Guadalupe

Bootie Fence

This was probably the last time I saw the Guadalupe in its gorgeous green hue. Not surprisingly, this too was private property.

The river started losing its beauty and its volume from this point. Not too far from the view immediately above this one.

 

 

Brownie did not pick up speed even after I had replaced the flat tube. I partly blamed the quality of the road from the outskirts of Ingram. Notice how the rugged road becomes smooth. Alas, only for a bit. I was surprised to see the road in such condition in the US.

This crossing of the Guadalupe was called the "Dry" crossing. The river was actually dry. Yet it had a flood gauge. I could not fathom why.

Ugh Guadalupe. Looks like nobody owned this part of the river.

 

How I love to see the sign "DIP"! Cruised smoothly with Brownie into and out of this DIP.

Lost Maples was still about 15 miles away. It was already 6pm. There were hills ahead. I was too tired to climb hills in the dark. I started looking for a place to spend the night. For the first time, I saw the gate of a ranch open. I had been hoping to spot a ranch or any large private property and ask the people there for permission to camp. I hung around the gate waiting for somebody to appear. Two guys drove in a truck from inside the ranch only to shut the gate. I mustered the courage to ask them. To strike a conversation, I asked how far Lost Maples was from there. The guy who had come out of the truck to shut the gate pretended like he could not understand anything I said. He passed the buck to the driver. The driver tried to be nice. He said it was 19 miles away. (I knew that that was the distance to Vanderpool- the city after Lost Maples.) But I pulled out an anguished face and asked him if I could spend the night in their ranch. He declined my request stating that his boss would not like that. He immediately stated the obvious, "But you can camp on the other side of the fence." That meant on the side of the road. He assured me that it would be safe, "Nobody will mess with ya!" He further suggested that I camp on the road 187 because there would not be much traffic there. I, too, thought 187 would be better. I wanted to ask him to let his boss know that eventually he would need about the same space as I had requested for- just six feet under. But as a traveller it would not have been prudent to pick a fight. I thanked him and pedalled on.

I spent the night at this spot within the first two miles of 187:

I had the leftover tortilla chips with marmalade for dinner. Quite liked that combination. I did not use the rain fly. I finished reading Peter Camenzind. I fell asleep looking at the stars through the mesh pondering the similarities between Peter Camenzind and me. I also remembered some childhood memories. One does not need ahyuasca to bring them back, I thought. I woke up in the middle of the night to find a thick layer of frost on the mesh! Yes, it was that cold!

Day 8 - First Flat Tyre. Already!

It was still windy when I woke up. Nevertheless, I packed and head out for Lost Maples. Once again went to Jack in the Box. Didn't get lucky this time- no African Americans or Hispanics at the counter :p

I had decided not to curse Ray anymore. So took the route with fewer elevations- the one via Ingram and Hunt. It ran mostly by the Guadalupe river and I wanted to get to know that river better.

On the outskirts of Kerrville, there was an AT&T store. I have not been able to make calls from my India number that is on roaming and relies mostly on AT&T's network. So I decided to go in and request them to do something about that. The customer care personnel at the store were so cordial and eager to help. (Vodafone India should invite AT&T to train their staff!) They tried to fix the problem even though I was not their direct customer. They even let me bring Brownie inside. While I was waiting for them to investigate the issue, a lady in her 50s somehow got to know about me. We spoke for a while. My name sounded like "Jonathan" to her. So we stuck to Esteban. I told her I was figuring out my needs and my wants and had almost eliminated my wants from my luggage. She smiled and asked me if I was taking care of my nutritional needs. She clicked my picture and was like "You'll soon be on Fox News and when that happens I can tell people that I met you!" I told her I would not want to be on the news for this. I think she became suspicious of me after that. I wanted to tell her that one should not live his/her life trying to be on news and not do things for being famous. But she was not interested in the conversation after clicking my picture. I noticed that a man overheard our conversation. He must have been in his late 50s. He came up to me and said, "I have four doctors. Three out of them are Indian. I would not have been able to walk had it not been for one of those Indian doctors. So keep sending those good doctors from your country." I replied, "I wish they'd stay back in the country." He then asked me, "Aren't you scared of the narcos and the drug cartels in South America?" I am not sure what I said. Jon, the customer care person who was assigned to me, could not resolve the problem. (His colleague asked me if I spoke Spanish. Jon commented that most Americans speak only English. His wife is Thai and his father-in-law can speak nine languages and dialects.) I bought a US number with the $2/day plan for seven days. I will need to be able to make calls if there is an emergency while biking through the Texan desert between Langtry and Marathon. They sold me the number only after ensuring that there was sufficient network in that area- they used a pretty cool software for that. It was almost 2:30pm when I left.

Ingram was about four miles away. I was biking against the wind. It felt like pulling the weight of a massive ship. Brownie had given up. I was wondering why and when I just about reached Ingram it occurred to me that I might have a flattie. Oddly, as soon as it occurred to me, I started feeling a bump each time the back tyre completed a rotation. I was close to an Exxon gas station. It did not have a mini store like most other gas stations. I went up to the only guy whom I could spot there. He was working on a car and looked like a mechanic. I requested him to let me use the space behind the station to fix the flattie. He looked too young to be in-charge, but he said I could. I unloaded all the stuff, turned Brownie upside down and started fixing the tyre. I took the tyre off the rim and then thought of surveying the station to make sure that I was safe. I noticed there was a car repair shop in the station and there were four guys and a woman working there, including the guy whose permission I had sought. He probably told his boss because the owner of the repair shop, Mark, came up to me and asked me to remove my stuff from where I had placed it. It was apparently somebody else's private property- just a small unfenced green pasture! Anyway, I followed his instructions. I had spare tubes from Yellow Bike but they weren't new. I thought I was still using the old tubes that Brownie had come with. It did not make sense to replace the punctured old tube with another old tube from Yellow Bike. I wanted a new tube. I thought Mark or the teenage apprentice might have one since there were bikes as well in their shop. The bikes turned out to be theirs. But they said one of them could drive me to the nearest Walmart. Eventually, one of Mark's staff, a very old man, drove me to a bike shop. It was almost 4pm. I had to wait till their day got over- 5pm.

Ben, the old man, used to be in the navy. He worked in a big city for some time but then started missing his hometown- Ingram. He left his girlfriend who did not want to live in the country. He now works as a car mechanic and caretaker of show-horses. He showed me the horses he was responsible for. He does not mind the lower wages in Ingram- a "city" with about 1300 people. I could see why anyone would want to move to Ingram- spellbinding natural beauty!

We got a new tube. He asked me where I was going to sleep. He suggested a few camping spots and advised that there were only two cops in Ingram so I did not have to worry. He was concerned that it would become extremely cold so he gave me his number and asked me to call him if I needed any help. He dropped me back at the gas station. 

Mark and his staff had left, it seemed. The station looked deserted. However, none of my stuff was stolen. I replaced the old, punctured tube. It was 6:30pm. I just wanted to camp on that unfenced green pastured behind the station. But I did not want to get into trouble for being on somebody's private property. While I was weighig my options, Mark appeared from nowhere. It turned out that he lived in the RV (a home on wheels) that was parked between the station and the green pasture. He asked me a lot of questions- if I had managed to fix the bike (he seemed a little impressed that I had), where I was from, what I was doing there, where I slept usually, etc. He also warned me about the drug cartels in Mexico. He was like, "You don't watch the news, do you? It is extremely dangerous out there. They are creating this safer image of Juarez to attract tourists, but things haven't changed." I told him I had a friend there and it would be all right for me. Finally, a little flabbergasted at what I was doing, he offered three cans of Coke and even said that I could camp the night behind the gas station. Not sure why he wanted me to remove my stuff from the same piece of land earlier. He also offered to bring some dinner.

I set up my tent and continued reading Peter Camenzind (nearly finished it). At 10, it became extremely cold. There was no sign of Mark. I was hungry. So I bought tortilla chips, bean dip, and cherry pie (after a detailed survey of everything that they had and I did not want to spend more than $4) from the store next to the station that I had not noticed earlier.

I watched two episodes of Breaking Bad and went to bed.

Day 7 - Kerrville

I could not leave for Lost Maples because of the late night fishing. After saying goodbye to Tristan and Keegan, I went back to sleep. 

Woke up and went for a walk by the Guadalupe. 

I then decided to check out the centre of Kerrville and to treat myself at the Jack in the Box- a fast food restaurant. There were two persons at the counter- an African American woman and a Hispanic guy. Seeing me in my biking helmet they asked me if I was travelling by bike and just passing by. I said yes. I had ordered a cheeseburger and an oreo shake. They decided to throw in a portion of curly fries and upgraded my burger to a double cheeseburger for free. I got to know only when they served my order and while serving they said, "You'll need the calories!"

I started reading the book that Adam had gifted- Peter Camenzind.

While heading back to my tent at about 10pm, it became extremely windy. Had I not left my backpack and buckets inside the tent, it probably would have been blown away. I checked with the Park Host if there was a storm warning. He said, "No, but it would be cold and windy." I went to bed knowing it was going to be a miserable night.