Blazing Saddles: San Diego to (hopefully) St. Augustine: Sara: Day 23

This morning handed us all of the ingredients for a crap day. Thunderstorms were in the forecast all day along the 77 hilly miles from Camp Wood to Kerrville, my dad wasn’t feeling well and had decided not to ride so I’d be going solo*, and the restaurant we were counting on for breakfast wasn’t open at 6:30 as expected so it was going to be a late start. But the route, the scenery, and the events of the day ended up being one of my favorites yet; although, oh my god, was it hard.

Let me start by saying I thought the rolling hills we’ve been riding the last two days characterized the aptly named “Texas Hill Country”. I was wrong. I found those hills today. Today wasn’t the biggest climbing day of the trip, but it sure felt like it at the time. Up and down and up and down, I rode hill after hill after hill, each seemingly steeper and more twisty than the last. My mom described it best as a rollercoaster. The weather cooperated for the most part. No thunderstorms, no downpours, though there were a few stretches of healthy rainfall and a lot of drizzle, so I, sort of, had that going for me.

Weather and ascents aside, it was an enjoyable and breathtakingly beautiful route. Not only was there a ton of wildlife, but there was a distinct absence of roadkill. Just after the first serious climb of the day, I spotted about 8 sturdy, short, black animals crossing the road way out ahead of me and flagged my parents down for protection. Initially, my mom thought they were cattle, my dad thought sheep, and I thought bears – everyone knows bears in Texas travel in families. We eventually convinced ourselves farm animals lacking a herder would not have been traveling with such purpose, but it wasn’t until we reached Kerrville's cell reception that we did some googling and confirmed with locals they were javelinas. Pretty happy those guys had disappeared into the woods before I arrived on my bike and accidentally stumble upon them.

Deer were a frequent sighting along the route today because, unfortunately, for about 30 miles we were riding by ranches that breed deer for hunting, characterized by their high fences and you-can-hunt-here signs. I can’t imagine the appeal of hunting an animal that is actually caged (or hunting at all, for that matter), but I digress. During that stretch, we saw a baby whitetail deer outside the fence. I don’t know how he got out, but he was on a 30-mile stretch of rode with too-tall fences to jump on both sides of the highway and nowhere to go. There were 3 other whitetails inside the fence; all four were clustered together and upset by the first’s predicament. Naturally, as we approached, they were upset by our presence as well, but they all stayed grouped together, the outside one, panicking, trying to figure out how to get back into the enclosure, while also jogging ahead to keep his distance from us. It was so, so sad and I wished I could tell them they really should be strategizing on getting the others out.

During the last stop of the day, I was standing at the van door eating and started to feel a burning sensation on my ankles. I looked down and was horrified to find my shoes and ankles covered in fire ants. I don’t need to detail the spectacle that followed, but I was thankful to have remembered I was commando in my bike pants. I think I’ve had enough wildlife for one day.

In other news, the ride into Kerrville today puts us across the halfway point, mileage-wise. While it’s a thrilling accomplishment, I can’t believe we’re only halfway. Dang, America, you’re big.

*When I say “solo” I feel it's necessary to note I was never actually out of my parents’ eyesight due to our lack of cell phone reception, my inability to change flats, and their parental concerns. For a good part of the ride, they were actually driving directly behind me flashing their hazards. I thought it was a long day for me; it was a longer day for them.