Tornillo, TX to Sierra Blanca, TX

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Shawne and Jo say...
Day 29
Miles Today: 60.1
Total Mileage: 1145.4
Flats Today: 1
Total Flats: 34

The sound of geese and ducks quacking and squawking woke us up this morning. A pipe spewed water into a pond, refilling what had been lost to evaoration. So much for the local water shortage.
We ventured into a run down building used for restrooms. There were three doors labeled 'Women'. Shawne escorted Jo into one of the women's restrooms, as she often does in case something or someone tries to attack her. There were two toilets in the small room, one of which was apparently out of order. It was completely wrapped with many layers of duct tape to secure the lid in the closed position.
With Jo feeling safe, Shawne went on to the men's room. There were two separate rooms with one toilet each. The spaces were as big as a closet. One was missing a door sompletely, which gave it's occupant a wonderful view of the scummy ponds. The other had a door, but no lock. The toilet itself didn't seem attached to the floor, and it rocked side to side.
Jo said that in the middle of the night, a car pulled up to the gate. It flashed high beams on our tents over and over, then finally drove off. Shawne was so sound asleep, he never noticed.
After a breakfast of beef rolled tacos, we packed up and said goodbye (and good riddance) to the mosquito farm. We rode with Zeke for half the day. Nearing the town of Fort Hancock, we saw an old woman with a pack animal on the side of the road. It was obvious she had been traveling for quite some time.
Jo asked her, "What's your donkey's name?"
"It's a burro," the woman quickly replied.
Jo tried again. "Oh, what's your burro's name?"
No reply.
We asked her where she was going. She murmered something about some town in the distance and that is was too far to go in the rain. Then she told us to have a safe trip as she walked off with her burro following closely behind.
We all rode into Fort Hancock to see if there was really a laundromat and a library, as the maps indicated. We found the laundromat, but there was no bill changer or soap vending machine. Then, we found the dirt road that our maps said the library was on, but we couldn't find the library. So, we gave up on those ideas and continued onthe route. Besides, we reasoned, there was a great tailwind from an approaching storm, and we didn't want to waste it.
The skies darkened as a light mist moistened the road. We all stopped when Zeke got another flat. He said that yesterday was his first flat tire for his entire trip! He started at the Canadian Border and rode down the west coast to the Mexican border, then started the Southern Tier. Today was his second flat in as many days riding with us. He figured that our bad luck with punctured tubes was wearing off on him.
The mosquitos were out in force in the middle of the day. Jo broke out our only defense, a small bottle of DEET bug repellant. She sprayed her legs and arms, as well as her backside. Shawne also sprayed his legs and arms and enjoyed the instant relief from the biting insects. Jo looked down to discover her shorts were falling apart. Her skin was visible in stripes through her shorts! We realized at that point that the DEET in the insect repellant eats away Spandex. Shawne gave Jo his jacket so she could cover her now visible rear end. A Border Patrol Agent stopped and talked with us for a few minutes. He recommended a BBQ place in Sierra Blanca, telling us that a fellow Agent owned the place.
Zeke repaired his tire,and we rode toward the Interstate. He had been out-pedalling us most of the day. As we dodged puddles in the road, Zeke was 1/4 mile ahead of us, already at the truck stop. He'd been craving donuts all day and made a comment that "the next gas station better have donuts!" He said donuts were his incentive to keep going when he was having a rough day.
Soaked from the rain, we climbed off our biked and walked toward the entrance of the Tiger Truck Stop. The front walkway was glossy tile, which made for a very slick and dangerous walk to the front door. Once inside, the linoleum squares offered little traction as we slid around in our bicycle shoes. Zeke made a bee-line for the donuts, and we headed for the restaurant.
A hallway with a sign reading "Tiger Cage" caught our eyes, so we walked toward the rear of the building. A sitting area with dining tables had huge windows facing outward to a large caged area that sat empty outside. There was evidence that tigers had been here at some point in the past, but they no longer were there to please the crowds.
We entered the restaurant and sat down, pleased to be out of the rain. We were very hungry and ready for a good meal. We flipped through the menu as Zeke sat down to join us. He munched on his donuts and looked at the map. Content with his snack, he told us he was going to get back on the road. We said goodbye and we hoped to see him later, even though he was going to do twenty or thirty more miles than us today. We enjoyed another delicious meal of Mexican food while watching a rerun of Knight Rider on the TV in the corner above us. It was the first episode of the first season with David Hasselhoff at his finest...NOT! Shawne knows this because Jo bought him the first three seasons of Knight Rider on DVD for his birthday. ("HEY," Shawne says, "I grew up on that...and C.H.I.P.S!)
After eating, we didn't want to move at all. A rerun of 'Simon and Simon' came on and put me into 'nap-mode'. Shawne wanted to lay down. Looking out the window, the rain was worse. Our bikes waited outside with rain running down their aluminum frames, but we had to go. We stalled a little longer as we looked through the store. All of the merchandise looked old and dated. There was a donation box that asked for funds to help "Bring the Tigers Back". Jo wanted hot chocolate, but there was none to be found. She settled for a cup of old coffee and sipped it slowly while walking up and down the aisles.
Reluctantly, we donned our raincoats and went out into the rain. Our bike seats were soaked, which really didn't matter...we too would be soaked soon. We had to take the onramp to Interstate 10 and travel on the shoulder for the next few miles. To our surprise, we passed a speed limit sign with an 80 mph limit! Visibility was poor as the rain fell harder. Big rigs raced by us at what seemed like 90 mph, spraying road mist all over us. Our mirrors and glasses were useless, and we had no warning of approaching vehicles. Many of the trucks had wide load signs and pilot cars with amber lights strobing in the mist. We rode as far to the right as we could as the large tarped objects on the trailers crossed the fog line just a few feet from us.
A frontage road appeared to the south of the Interstate. We clicked out of our pedals and walked our bikes across the gravel divide. We parked our biked and looked back at I-10.
"That was insane!" Shawne yelled over the noise of the traffic.
Just then, we noticed the silhouette of a cyclist approaching from behind. We waited for him to catch up to us. He appeared to be a Hispanic man in his 30's. He was riding a road bike with panniers and a backpack. He stopped and said "Hi", then proceeded to open his backpack and pull out a worn newspaper article and some photographs. The newspaper was in Spanish, but we recognized the words "Guiness Book of World Records" in the headline. The photo was of him shaking hands with someone who was clearly important, but whom we didn't recognize. He spoke no English, but showed us pictures of himself posed in front of different landmarks and signs. All of his memoriabilia was getting soaked in the rain. He put it all away and started naming cities in South America, Central America, Mexico, the United States. It seemed that he was riding his bicycle from Ecuador to New York, but then he started naming random cities that didn't seem to be in any particular order.
"Ecuador, Philadelphia, Santa Monica, Nashville, San Francisco, Portland, Washington D.C., Canada, Fort Lauderdale, New York, Kansas City, Dallas, Houston..." He went on for several minutes.
Shawne tried to ask him, with his limited Spanish skills, how long he'd been on the road. We think he said seven months, which didn't really compute. We had a definite language barrier, so we climbed back on our bikes and rode for a few miles together. We had to stop to take off our raincoats because we were sweating more than it was raining. The gentleman waved goodbye and went on without us.
We came upon an old gas station that appeared to have been closed for some time. Two sheets of plywood served as warning signs with spray painted words that read, "GET OFF AT YOUR OWN RISK! VICIOUS MEAN DOGS LOOSE ON PREMESIS! NO TRESPASSING! PRIVATE PROPERTY!" Shawne scanned the area as we rode by, but never saw or heard any dogs.
We climbed and climbed, entering I-10 once again. The two lanes narrowed to one as we approached another Border Patrol checkpoint. The agent asked us where we were going and waved us on. A quarter mile past the checkpoint, our maps called for us to CROSS both sides of I-10 to get to another frontage road. The traffic was dense, so we waited for a few minutes just to get to the center divide. Then, we waited again to cross the opposite lanes. Arriving in Sierra Blance, we were directed by Adventure Cycling maps to go to main street to find the city park for camping. We found the street sign for Main Street, but it was a dirt road beside that railroad tracks that abruptly ended in both directions into thick brush and trees just a few hundred feet from the pavement. We went to the gas station for guidance and were told the correct route. The crossing gates dropped at the tracks as an Amtrak train crossed slowly in front of us. We waved back as passengers waved at us through the windows of the train cars.
We found the park and stopped near some picnic tables. Noticing an abundance of dog poop and sprinkler heads, we searched for a better campsite. There was a small amphitheater on site which looked inviting as dark clouds approached from the west. We felt it would be a good, dry spot to camp. We cooked dinner and sat on the stage, watching the glorious sunset. It never did rain, but we were quite pleased to have free accomodations.

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Photos

Breaktime
Time to feed the mosquitos!

Slow down!
Speed limit 80?

Zebra Shorts
Our chemistry lesson today: DEET and bicycle shorts do not mix.

Crazy gas station
The service here was terrible

A roof over our heads
Tonight's performance: Jodie Get Your Gun.

Comments

[Erin]

Keep up the good work! I know that it is hard to ride and keep going in the rain. Continued good luck with all your adventures.