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 22: Beyond Balmorhea

Sent: 96-05-26 23:21:34 EDT

I'm lounging in the parlor of the Greek Revival home that Captain Shepard built for himself here in Marathon, TX in the late 1800's. It's a quiet small-town Sunday afternoon: sunny, breezy and rather comfortable (in the shade) outside; cool and subdued inside behind two-foot-thick walls. We've rented a room at this B&B adjunct to the Gage Hotel and so far, we've got the whole place to ourselves. People told us that we simply had to eat at the Gage when we went through Marathon on our way towards Del Rio. They were right, for two reasons: The food is good and it's the only eating place for thirty miles around. We elected to splurge a bit and stay here among the period furnishings, rather than go back to the tin-roofed collection of cabins we passed on the way into town late this morning. I prepared myself to write this ramble by playing 20 mindless games of FreeCell on the laptop; now I'm ready to begin.

Whoops, I see by the clock on the lower right corner of my screen that it's almost time for dinner. We have reservations for 6:00 PM. I'll write more later. Do you get the idea that we've relaxed a bit since you last heard from us? If you thought so, you'd be right.

We spent a day in Balmorhea working on our minds before starting the 2000+ foot ride up to Fort Davis. We decided that uphill could be OK, that we'd take it easy on ourselves, walk before we really had to and let ourselves enjoy what people had told us would be a nice ride up a pleasant valley.

It WAS a nice ride, actually. Yes, 2000 feet up, but nothing we couldn't handle. Yes, 10-30 mph headwinds all the way, but it did keep us cool. And "only" 38 miles. As we went up, the terrain around us got a little greener, the roadside flowers slightly more abundant and the birds rather more vocal.

The mile-high little town of Fort Davis proved to be a great place to spend a day. We walked all over town, touring the restored fort, visiting late-1800's vintage churches, looking at original buildings and finally, checking out the library. This latter is installed in a little building across from the courthouse that used to be jail. The cells are still there, each with its own classification of books. This place gives a new meaning to the word "booking." This little old town has taken pretty good care of itself. It would appear that when someone wants to start up a new business, they refurbish an existing building rather than building a new one.

It was in Fort Davis that your responses to Carol's "Refiner's Fire" Ramble came pouring in. You knew just what to say. Your advice was to the point and experience-based. Your encouragement was heartfelt. We were moved. Something new is happening here which I can't describe yet. For the moment, suffice it to say that this electronic linkage is changing our experience of this tour in quite unexpected ways.

As we planned to leave Fort Davis, we had a decision to make: Should we pedal 26 miles to Alpine, or keeping on going to Marathon for a total of 57 miles? The pull (compulsion?) to go all the way was almost irresistible. Remembering all the good advice we'd gotten and our original objective (which emphasized seeing the country over getting to St. Augustine), we chose Alpine.

This was our day to sight wildlife--deer, antelope and jack-rabbits. I broke into song: "Home, home on the range: where the deer and the antelope play; where seldom is heard a discouraging word and the sky is are not cloudy all day." True, all true. We got into Alpine in time for lunch, found an interesting historic hotel-cum-B&B, napped, walked the town, grazed in an idiosyncratic bookstore, nuked our lunch sandwiches for dinner in the room and went out to a play that evening.

This morning, we had a similar choice: 31 miles to Marathon or 85 miles through to Sanderson. We're getting better at these decisions. We quickly chose short over long. We've got an 88 mile run ahead of us in a few days, so why rush it?

Ken

Itinerary:

  • Day 40: Van Horn, TX
  • Day 41-42: Balmorhea, TX (pronounced BAL-mo-RAY, not like that disease you thought of)
  • Day 43-44: Fort Davis, TX.
  • Day 45: Alpine, TX.
  • Day 46: Marathon, TX.

PS: Here's the answer to the quiz question about what, if anything, Del Rio, Texas, reminds you of. Well, of course, I worded the question wrongly. I should have asked you to guess what Del Rio reminds ME of. What it reminds you of is a whole ‘nother thing--Delores Del Rio, mostly, or some place you've been to in Del Rio. But there are a few of us for whom Del Rio recalls late nights long ago spent listening to a distant radio station playing strange (to our ears) gospel and country-western music and advertising all sorts of things you could mail away for from bibles to baby chicks. That was XERF, mailing address Del Rio, but covering North America with 500,000 watts (ten times the maximum allowed by the FCC) from across the Rio Grande in mysterious Mexico. Sorry about the little excursion, folks. I'll try not to do it again.

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Copyright © 2008 Kenneth W. Lyon

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