Carol & Ken Lyon's Cross-Country Ramblings

The written-as-it-happened reflections of a couple of middle-age non-athletes as they travel across America on their recumbent bicycles.
 

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Part I:
Ventura, CA to High Island, TX
April-June 1996

Introduction & Links

1: New Bikes!

2: Anticipation

3: Leaving All

4: Fear, Courage and Foolishness

5: First Pass, First Desert

6: Drivers

7: Sun, Hills and Wind

8: In the Morning

9: Trying to Get Out of California

10: People Never Cease to Amaze

11: In the Afternoon

12: Attitude

13: Real Mountains

14: Harleys

15: A Tale of Two Cities

16: Life After Globe

17: Chateaubriand for Two

18: 2 Down, 5 To Go

19: We're Back!

20: A Hilltop Experience

21: Refiner's Fire

22: Beyond Balmorhea

23: Mid-Course Corrections

24: Out of the Desert

25: Flat and Wet

26: We Declare Victory

27: Reflections

Part II: 
Houston, TX to St. Augustine, FL
March-April 1998

28: Anticipation--Again!

29: First Day

30: High Island...Again

31: Roads and Bridges

32: Acadiana!

33: Across the Father of all Waters

34: BicycleLand

35: Event-Filled Sunday

36: Dauphin Island, Alabama

37: Louisiana & West Texas Culture

38: Reality Checks

39: Body, Mind & Soul

40: My Dad

41: It is Finished!

42: Awards

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Cross-Country Ramble 20: A Hilltop Experience

Sent: 96-05-20 23:07:22 EDT

Last night, we stayed in the most wonderful motel I've ever experienced. Whoever said that the most important three things in real estate are "Location, location and location," got it right. The fact that it cost us $20 plus tax had nothing to do with its value.

We started yesterday in Fort Hancock, TX, where that motel owner had warned us that the hill up and out of the Rio Grande Valley would be "straight up." We got on the road by 7:30--earlier than usual to get a jump on the heat of the day. The first 35 miles continued to take us along the Rio Grande on a smooth paved farm road. There was no breeze except for that caused by our motion, but the air was cool. The pedaling wasn't coming easily to me this morning, a fact that I attributed to my preoccupation with the hill we had yet to see. It was quickly becoming the "hill from hell" in my mind. The abandoned farm houses and towns we passed added to my sour mood. Many of the buildings had been made of adobe and were in the process of melting back into the earth.

We left our quiet country road and turned onto Interstate 10's broad shoulder at about 11:00. Finally, we faced "THE HILL." "Doesn't look half as steep as hills we've already survived," I thought. And I was right. We'd have no need to walk on this hill. We shifted to our lowest gear and started spinning (which, for me is 80-85 rpm) up the grade. But something was wrong. I could tell that I wasn't working very hard, but the pedaling was getting harder and harder. I stopped a couple of times and panted for a bit, then started up again. I saw some black dots swimming in my field of view, but a shake of the head made them go away. I noticed that Carol, who usually lags me a bit, was getting ahead of me. I knew that I had let "the hill" get to me. I willed new energy into my legs and went on automatic--thinking as much as possible about nothing at all.

Finally, about an hour into the hill, I could see the crest of the hill ahead of us. I also saw "Motel Clean Rooms Senior Discount $25." The decision was instant: "Let's stay here!" I yelled forward to Carol. "Good idea," she said, looking a little worried.

The Hilltop Motel was the best $20 (we got the senior discount) motel I've ever seen. We napped a couple of hours and then started thinking. The previous day, we'd biked 50 miles in high heat and wind. I had drunk perhaps four quarts of liquid yesterday, but, come to think about it, had not needed to pass water since early that day. Nor last evening or last night or today. I had already drunk perhaps three quarts today and still nothing had passed through. I started drinking water with a passion. I drank about four quarts during the course of the afternoon. Another couple that evening. Finally, during the night, my plumbing started working again.

Today was a good day. We got up and got out in the cool. We drank lots of water before we started. We drank while we were biking. When we stopped, we drank some more. We finished the hill, did a couple smaller ones and were rewarded with a seven-mile coast into Van Horn. We checked into a motel, retrieved and answered our email, and had enough energy left over to write this Ramble.

Guess there really is something to that stuff you read about hydration and dehydration.

Ken

PS:  We're heading toward Del Rio.  Here's a quiz:  What, if anything, do you think of when someone mentions Del Rio, Texas?

Itinerary.

  • Day 37: El Paso, TX
  • (took a week off in Washington, DC)
  • Day 38: Fort Hancock, TX
  • Day 39: Hilltop Motel, on I-10 about 3/4 of the way between Fort Hancock and Sierra Blanca.
  • Day 40: Van Horn, TX

next ramble...

 
 

Copyright © 2008 Kenneth W. Lyon

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