Day 17 - Last Evening in the US

I woke up to find my host making pancakes and waffles for breakfast (I was sleeping on the couch in the living room.). One by one the family members emerged- the mom, two sons and a daughter. I had already met the dog- Lucy. It was a weekday so they were all busy. Kevin teaches biology at the local university. He had told me before I arrived that his students wanted to meet me. They had several questions for me, including "Is he crazy?" He invited me to be there for his class at 11am. I agreed. But before that I needed to go out and take a walk to clear my head- I had to decide whether to continue to El Paso or get into Mexico from Del Rio. The border was less than 2 miles away from my host family's house. Kevin called up one of his Mexican acquaintances to find out whether it was safe to cross into Mexico from Del Rio. He advised that Mexico, as a whole, had become a safer place.

I went for my walk. I could not resist the temptation to cross the border. But I remembered that I had ordered some stuff on Amazon. It was to be delivered to César's friend in El Paso. It was too late to cancel the order so I logged into my account. Amazon had already cancelled my order! I couldn't fathom why. Was it a sign?

I went to Kevin's class. The students, about 15 of them and mostly Hispanic, were discussing the definition of "animal." In order to illustrate the point that an animal is an organism that moves, Kevin pulled out a snake. Yes, a snake! I had told him earlier that while wild camping, one of my biggest fears is being bitten by a snake. To help me get over my ophidiophobia (why do I remember that word?!), at breakfast, he had shown me pictures of venomous snakes, supplied tips for identifying venomous snakes, and we had discussed fear. I did not expect him to surprise me with a live snake! I freaked out. After seeing his students take the snake in their hands (mostly the girls!), I finally agreed to hold the slithery thing. It was cold (duh, it's a cold- blooded animal). And oddly, perhaps because of having spent so much time in nature, I felt connected to the King Snake. I guess the fact that they're non-venomous also helped.



After talking to the students about my travels, I left. Some of them were touched by the story, especially one of the girls. I would have liked to interact more with them after class but I had a very important decision to make.

I continued walking and contemplating about my next step. I was approaching a Whattaburger restaurant and saw a man eating outside on the floor. As I got closer, I noticed a bike behind him. The bike had panniers. A bike tourist! I went up to him to introduce myself and find out about his trip. He was going from the Pacific coast to the Atlantic coast within the US. He shared with me his ordeal through the desert stretch that is almost uninhabited. He was like, "Not cool man. Avoid it if you can!" Another sign?

I took that as a sign and decided to change my route. No more El Paso. No more worrying about there being no water between Langtry and Marathon. I was going to Ciudad Acuña! To celebrate my new decision, I went to the Fuddruckers restaurant, which was a few steps away, and treated myself to their famous chocolate malt.



A little while later, Kevin called. I told him about my decision. One of the things I had ordered on Amazon was a HTC Re camera. It's a very cheap substitute for a GoPro camera. Kevin suggested that it may be available at Walmart. So he drove me there. Unfortunately, it was out of stock. We then bought some groceries to make some Indian butter chicken.

On our way back, I learnt that Kevin and his family are Mormons. That day I got to know a lot about Mormons- their book, tenets, and beliefs. Some of the things I liked: their religion prohibits drinking alcohol and tobacco (like Islam!), and even tea and coffee (I later read that what's prohibited are "hot drinks" which is interpreted by their church to mean tea and coffee.) Hah, I come very close to being Mormon, at least, in respect of adhering to their "Word of Wisdom."

That evening, while I was making the butter chicken, and later, at the dinner table, a lot of knowledge was exchanged. Before we started eating, as is their ritual, the family said a prayer. They included me in their prayer and asked for my safety during my travels!

Before anybody else could say anything, I cheekily declared that the chicken was good enough. I think it was. After all, the eldest son had three servings!

Day 16 - Uvalde to Del Rio

This was a special day. I cycled 72 miles (about 115 Km)! Quite an achievement for me. I also reached the 500 Km mark according to my bike computer. But I remember the computer did not function the first couple of days (entirely my fault). Probably I had finished 500Km when I reached Lost Maples.

When I left the motel and turned on to the pavement, I approached a zebra crossing. On the other side of the zebra crossing was a lady pushing a baby stroller. As the light turned green, I prepared myself to cross the zebra crossing without hitting the baby stroller. As we crossed each other, I was surprised to see four baby dolls in the stroller. I looked carefully at the lady, she was actually trans. In those few seconds, I also managed to muster a smile to exchange and hide my astonishment. I hope.

The ride was full of the same landscapes. Texas was becoming boring. Except this: the Nueces River. There was a sheep farm right before the bridge over the river guarded by two efficient white dogs who manage to leap over the fence (if there was one) to chase strangers like me away.

Then there was this old rail bridge.

And then these windmills.

Remember I told you on Day 4 the Park Host in Blanco State Park told me about a guy who was walking all around Texas and planning to cover all the state parks? Guess what, I ran into him! At first, I thought he was a hitchhiker. He was on the other side of the road and had an umbrella hat on so I could not see him clearly. I slowed down and yelled out the customary hitchhikers' greeting from my side of the road. I thought I could offer some food or something so I even stopped. When he raised his head and removed the umbrella from his head, I was stunned to see a really old man! I thought he was homeless or something. He walked up to me and introduced himself as Dave- a 72-year-old man! He had cycled through some famous trail in the US, walked through a few trails already, started this trail in Louisiana in October 2015, and was planning to walk the Rocky Mountain trail after finishing this one. It was...just...I mean...I...you know...was speechless. That is thousands of kilometers! He made me feel so less than ordinary. I asked him if he had been to Blanco State Park and spoken to the Park Host there. He had. It was hilarious to run into each other like that. Hilarious for him. I was still in a state of shock. How could a 72-year-old do all of that?! We spent about half an hour talking to each other sharing our respective stories. I wish I could spend more time with him, but I had to get to Del Rio. So we said goodbye and continued our respective journeys. You can check out his website and you must! www.davidowenroberts.com

Man of the Post - Dave

I spotted this hill. I thought how lonesome it must be for it to stand there most probably at the periphery of "Hill Country"

And then I saw the name of the ranch within which it stood- Lonesome Hill. Haha!

The sun was draining out all my energy. The first 35 miles to reach Bracketville took forever. I got there at about 5pm. I had a nice, heavy meal at Subway on the highway 90. I called my hosts in Del Rio to check with them if they were all right with me arriving later in the evening. They offered to connect me with somebody in Bracketville to spend the night. But I wanted to achieve the 100Km a day milestone. So with their permission, I pedalled on.



Somehow it's so much easier to bike at night. There's no sun and there's lesser traffic. It's easier to tell there's traffic approaching from behind because of the headlamps. Moreover, biking during the day time is a transient joy. There is something more eternal about the joy of biking under a swarm of stars at night.



I had left Bracketville at about 6:20pm. This is where Del Rio begins. I reached this point at exactly 9pm. It took me significantly lesser time to cover 30 miles at night!



But it took me another hour to find my hosts' place.

Kevin, the head of the host family, was waiting for me around the corner of the street to make sure I did not get lost. The rest of the family had gone to bed already. I took a shower and had dinner as quietly as I could. I slept like a log.

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!