 |
|
|
HOME |
___ We returned from our trip to New Jersey and soon passed mile 500 for our bike trip. We headed south out of Las Cruces to El Paso. Along the way we hit magic number 500. We ran across many racing cyclists along the way. It’s a big training area I suppose. One fellow told us he was training to be in a triathalon in Tallahassee a month down the road.
We celebrate mile 500 with our own special numeric interpretation.
Along the ride through southern New Mexico, we passed along many cotton fields. We had a hairy time riding through El Paso. I’ve never been too impressed with the town in previous visits, and this one was no different. It’s pretty crowded and hot. We rode along mile after mile of used car lots. We found a campground but they wanted as much for a patch of gravel for us to pitch our tent on as some of the motels in town. So we treated ourselves to a night in a motel that came with a boot on the doorknob. The previous tenant didn’t stay up on the rent and never returned his key. That’s comforting. We left the next day and got out of town and thankfully, back in to the agricultural areas. At one point the next day, we paused a bit under a do it yourself car wash while it rained a few minutes. During this time we ate some snacks, and also were attacked by several chickens. They surrounded us. It was very intimidating.
Here’s a menacing creature if I’ve even seen one. Look at his eyes…that’s pure hatred written in them I tell ya. They wanted some of the cookies we were eating, so we shared. Now that we were officially in West Texas, we began encountering some of that official west Texas mentality. We stopped at a catfish campground area. Families come here to catch catfish. The sign out front said, ‘Camping $6.’ We went in to get a spot for the night. The lady then tried to charge us $24 for a tent spot for the night. $6 for each vehicle, plus it’s $6 until 9 PM and then $6 until 6 AM. Right. So we left. A couple miles down the road we found another catfish pond. We checked there and they let us stay for free since we weren’t packing fishing poles with us. Very nice folks at this catfish pond. During the night, a US border patrol helicopter swooped over us and hovered, checking for illegal immigrants. The helicopter had no lights on and it was a bit spooky.
We enjoyed a beautiful sunrise at the catfish pond. The next day we rode on and passed through Ft. Hancock, Texas. From there we continued on to Sierra Blanca. One this day, we ran in to ‘the dirty dozen.’ This was a group riding across the country on an Adventure Cycling route. They had their own guide. They were going a bit faster than us though. You see, they started out on the same day we did. Except they left out of San Diego instead of Phoenix. And here they were passing us up this day. We later found out they finished their trip a little before Thanksgiving. They were doing close to 70 miles a day as an average. We had a fun time meeting them. We stopped in Sierra Blanca that night and watched them ride off into the distance as they kept pressing along.
Here some friendly horses give us a look as we ride past.
Here’s our tent spot in Sierra Blanca. The next day we headed out towards Van Horn. It was very windy and the going was mighty slow. What also slowed us down was all the road construction on the road we were supposed to follow. Instead, we detoured through the sticks and dirt. We even rode past a dirt mine where many large trucks were busy scooping up dirt and flinging it in the air.
Here Della takes a moment to clear the dirt out of her teeth as we ride past the Van Horn dirt mine. We later found out that they were processing cement, so we really weren’t that far off.
A short bit later, we crossed into Central Time. Gotta love that bad guy from the Batman TV show camera effect. In Van Horn, we decided to take a day off. We toured the town and had a very interesting visit to the local museum. We learned about the local history, including how the old sherrif shot a certain judge that he didn’t like. It was an accident, but we all know better. We also toured the local Fancy Junk shop.
If you are in need of an old windmill shaped to look like a dinosaur, then Fancy Junk is the place to visit.
Here Della demonstrates the proper use of the fainting couch in the old opera house located in Van Horn. My brother Scott warned us to avoid Van Horn because of a certain overflowing toilet he encountered there. I am happy to say that our visit was very pleasant. We met two very nice people, Bill and Jane. We spent some good times together there in town with them. Later on, we found out they were actually stocking us across the country! The next day we headed out towards the Davis mountains. We got up early to beat the heat.
A long shadow marks the start of our bicycling day as we enter the Davis mountains. The ride into the Davis mountains was long, and water was scarce. We did fine though. The scenery is beautiful. At one point, Della managed to spook some cattle. They took off running away from her on her bike as she rode along. She passed them, but a moment later she stopped to rest. Those cows were so scared, they caught up with her in their attempt to flee. Cows are not the smartest creatures.
Della climbs and climbs on her way through the Davis mountains.
These cows do not let the fact that they are catching up with the person they are fleeing from deter them. They just keep on running. The next day we toured the McDonald Observatory. This observatory houses several telescopes. Most noteable are the 107 inch reflector and a 433 inch reflector! We had a good tour and enjoyed watching the guide move the giant telescope around with a little remote control.
Here we are in front of one of the really big telescopes.
The 107 inch reflector. This little number can count golf balls on the moon, but it also slices and dices, it won’t rust or tarnish and pets love it too.
Astronomer humor.
Della on the ride down from the McDonald observatory.
We have a good friend named Jeff Davis. So Jeff, this picture is for you. From there we rode on through the town of Ft. Davis and on to Alpine.
Della striking a pose in front of the Welcome to Alpine sign.
Some local art in Alpine.
Some of the local cacti. We toured the small university in Alpine and saw some very interesting black and white photographs by local artists. We also learned a good chunk about the history of the area and Big Bend National Park.
Della, with the university in the background.
The mascot here is the longhorn, so we just had to take a picture of him. From there we rode on towards Marathon and into even more desolate country.
A lone flower decorates the roadside on the way to Marathon.
Della blasts her way through the grasses as we cross west Texas. Marathon is a sleepy little town. We happened to be there on everyones day off too. But we had a fun walk around the place all the same.
Some of the local architecture and decorations.
An Alamo replica near where we camped in Marathon.
Here’s a truck that either parked in the wrong place at the wrong time, or was trying to haul too much windmill at once. The truck is for sale, cheap.
A lone windmill decorating the desolate town of Marathon.
A motorized cow in the sky. A fellow in Marathon actually sells these things to teach rodeo folks how to rope cows. The cow drives around an arena all willy nilly and some cowboys tries to rope the thing without falling off his horse laughing.
The Della Rose of Texas. On the way out of Marathon.
Some folks think that west Texas is boring, desolate, unremarkable. Well just look at this picture. To get a true sense of what it was like to bike across west Texas, just stare at this picture for two weeks while sitting in one of those prison torture hot box things and listening to country music. At long last we got out of the desolate country and into Langtry. Then we realized that we still had 120 more miles of desolate country to look at. While resting against a road sign advertising the Judge Roy Bean visitor center, we saw a cute mother black widow.
This is how nature says, do not touch. Look at the proud mother with her young. We visited the Judge Roy Bean visitor center on the banks of the Rio Grande. We learned about what a bizarre character old Judge Roy Bean was. He sponsored illegal fights on a sandbar in the middle of the Rio Grande. The federal law folks couldn’t do much because they weren’t sure if they had jurisdiction over a sandbar halfway between the US and Mexico. Judge Roy Bean was also fond of doing stuff like making it look like he was going to hang someone just to scare them. One time, he threatened to saw off a man’s leg because he was caught cheating at a card game. Even threw the fellow down and got the local doctor to bring in his surgical saw. Lovely fellow.
Here’s the visitor center in all its glory.
A helpful and friendly notice posted inside Judge Roy Beans old saloon.
An old adobe structure in Langtry. We left Langtry and headed on off towards mile 1000.
|
