The Yin & The Yang

Riding Day 16

The team awoke to 38-degree temps and a stiff breeze. The Marfa Lights never appeared, but there were a few instances of coyotes wailing during the night. They seemed to be very close to our camp, just out doing coyote stuff and wondering who the intruders were, perhaps talking about us in a language as old as time.

The Bob was up first and set about making coffee, which was nothing short of heroic given the bone-chilling cold and wind. Odie and I climbed out of our tent shortly after and got busy with prepping for the ride ahead. The bottoms of everyone’s shoes were plastered with thorns, dozens of multi-spiked seeds imbedded into the soles! We would each eventually spend 30 minutes or so at the end of the day removing these things, pricking our fingers many times in the process…welcome to Texas!

We started riding around 9:30 because sunrise wasn’t until 8:20 and the cold elongated everything we had to accomplish pre-ride. But the sky was clear, and the winds were forecast to be in our favor once more. And just like the previous day, we’d be riding on good old Highway 90 all…day…long! So off we went, our goal to pound out as many miles as possible.

The scenery had become monotonous, endless miles of light-brown grass and scrub bushes yielding before relentless winds, the road’s shoulders peppered with the debris of a glutenous world. Long, but-shallow, climbs followed by mirror-image descents, again and again and again through a never-changing landscape. The wind shifted constantly, first from behind us, then suddenly mocking us from the side, before coming straight at us and reducing our speed to a crawl. It was maddening, it was what it was, and it was also what we signed up for.

For the second day in a row, we didn’t see anyone from our tribe. The only other bicycle rider we saw was going the opposite direction, his own bike loaded with by now all-too-recognizable gear, and when I shouted, “how you doing?” he replied, “just another day in paradise.” And of course, what was actually implied in our brief interaction was, “I feel your pain brother,” because it was that kind of day, all day, and the only people who could possibly understand how you were feeling would also have to be dumb enough to be riding a bike in such monotonous conditions to some far away destination.

We ended our day at 90.1 miles with sore butts and tired legs, 21 mile west of the small town of Sanderson, TX. We have 135 miles of riding to reach Del Rio, Tx, which is the end of section 3 of the Southern Tier. The Bob has a friend who is living there for a few months while training to fly C130s for the Air National Guard. She has a 3-bedroom house and has graciously agreed to let us hang out for a few days. We plan on taking two days off to rejuvenate body and soul, refill the OREM with sustenance, and get our minds right for the rest of the ride.

We’ve traveled 1110 mile on a 30-year-old bike and have about 1,900 more to go. There have been many challenges already, and there’ll certainly be many more as we continue east. Most days I’m stoked to be out here doing this, but there’s also days when I want to dismount, throw Hank on the bike rack, turn around and go home, never to ride a bike again. These feelings ebb & flow, and I’m old enough to know that nothing good or bad lasts forever. It’s simply that the Yin and the Yang of all things is closer to the bone out here on the road, a constant and humble reminder of our place in the universe, that we aren’t the center, but merely a small part of the greater whole…