It was a great day to be on the bicycle. The three of
us met in the hotel hospitality room for a good breakfast before Sara and I
headed outside. The air was a cool 64 and remained that way for several hours. We
entered rush hour traffic right out of the driveway as we headed from the
freeway entrance back toward Clint. For a mile it was hectic until we reached
N. Loop Rd. heading south. At that point we benefited from the traffic
traveling in the other direction.
The bounty of green fields continued for 35
miles as we paralleled the Rio Grande and, of course, the USA-Mexico border. At
one point we were within 300 yards of the fence that separates us from our
southern neighbor. At 37 miles we made
our first Black Oasis stop to refuel. It was time to head due east and away
from this bountiful water source. We will be returning to her in 7 days when we
arrive in Del Rio. Mike Yelin will be joining us about that time.
The ride on the Interstate was the worst leg of
today’s route and we managed to get to the frontage road in good time with the
help of a nice tailwind. The road was a welcome change, adequate and quiet. The
din of the highway was nearby but the decibel rating was reduced by magnitudes.
It might be that there is a correlation between the noise level and the fear
level. We met Susan again 20 miles further on at a very pleasant rest area
located on the frontage road. I can’t explain the presence of a rest area on a
road with no traffic. In the 40 miles of such road we traveled today, three
cars passed us including twice by Susan! The stop was very restful. We needed
that because we had 30 more miles to go. With a strong tailwind behind us, we
ate up that distance in a little under two hours. It was our longest ride to date at 88 miles. We
completed that distance in 7:30.
Tonight we are staying in the town of Sierra Blanca. It
could be the poster child for cities in decline in the USA. In a stretch of two
miles on the main road running east-west through the town, with a collection of
forty buildings, there are 38 buildings with dilapidated signs, boarded up
windows, leaning rain gutters, and overgrown landscaping. There is a prison
here, which reminds me that the citizens of this town are de facto inmates of a
sort. I hasten to add to my observation above that the only two people I have
met this decaying town are as genuinely American as you can get. The missing
components are a pitchfork in Charlie’s hand and the homestead in the
background. Leti is the boss? And Charlie is her handyman, when he is not
playing the role of spouse. They are a delightful pair. When Charlie gets to
talking, the conversation has no bounds and no boundaries. His bio could seed
several epic novels. It will be sad to leave this place tomorrow. However, I
asked Charlie about winters in Sierra Blanca. His description was very …
warming. Susan and I may be back.
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| Shot of the distant border wall from SR 20 |
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| Sierra Blanca main drag - per Susan, "I'm sorry, but this picture makes it look so much better than it is" |
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| Sierra Blanca |
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| Sierra Blanca |
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