Thursday, April 28, 2011
Biloxi, MS to Dauphin Island, AL
69.5 miles
Levi, the rider I met yesterday, caught up to me. He had stopped before me yesterday, but I’m slow. Unlike most riders, however, he slowed down and rode with me until we turned different ways, about 20 miles! I’m so glad I got the chance to get to know him better. He’s just starting to really travel. He has plans to bike or run along the Great Wall of China, to ride in Europe, and to learn to sail and travel that way. He’s got the bug.
It’s also so fun to talk to someone who’s really experiencing the world the same way I am now. We both have really enjoyed meeting so many wonderful people along the way, and are finding that everything unfolds the way that works. We have the same concerns, like trying to decide what else to send home to reduce weight, carrying enough water, keeping track of interesting roadkill, and getting chased by dogs. Levi has actually been bitten by one–it got his foot but didn’t break the skin, thank goodness. He got dog mace from a mail carrier he met, and has now used it a few times. When we discussed our routes, I tried to think of the few days I had sketched out ahead. “Is today Thursday?” I asked him.
“I don’t know.” He answered, and we both laughed. That’s how it is on the road.
Levi is a kind and thoughtful soul who is passionate about being in the world. If you get it, at 22, that the more a restaurant looks like a dive, the better it’s going to be, then you’re on the right track! Travel well, Levi!
We crossed the Alabama state line together, which was cool because then we each had someone around to take our picture with the sign.
A few miles later we parted ways, as he went north to Mobile and I went south back to the coast. Soon after, I stopped for lunch at the most idyllic McDonalds. It was in a wooded bower! I sat outside and made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to go with my milkshake, while I used their wifi.
A few miles after that, I heard screeching brakes repeatedly right behind me. Then a tan pickup passed me, then I still heard the screeching behind me, then a beat up black car passed me. I think he might have been trying to pass the pickup on the right, in the ditch, there wasn’t a second lane, when he had to stop because I was there. The driver was hanging out of his window, yelling that I should get the fuck off the road, because I might get killed. Then he swerved into oncoming traffic, almost colliding with a semi. Then he turned left into a gas station, cutting someone off. Then I saw him cut another car off as he left the gas station.
It sort of sounded like he was expressing concern for me, rather than anger, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who doesn’t belong on the road. I saw him a little later, pulling out of another gas station, and he leaned out of his window again to yell, “You’ve got to be careful! You could have gotten me killed!” I motioned to him that he should put down his phone as he veered away. Wow.
A few miles later I stopped at a gas station and had a much more pleasant conversation with someone from Alabama. The clerk told me it was only about eight more miles to Dauphin Island, but I would have to go over a really tall bridge to get there. “You might have to walk up it,” he said. “I see a lot of people walk up it.”
Of course my ego told him right away, “I came over the mountains to get here. I think I’ll be able to ride up it.”
It did look big and pretty steep, especially compared to everything around it, as I approached it.
I chided myself, reminding myself that I had walked up other hills, and that I’d do it again if I had to. I stopped once on the way up to poke at my tires. They were not flat. It probably just felt difficult because it was the first hill of any size I hauled my butt and my gear up and over in a week or so! In the end, I did not have to walk, but I did have to remember that, though I have been practicing this for a while now, I am still practicing.
I got up to 25 mph as I descended the other side of the bridge, then rode to the end of Dauphin Island, right next to the ferry I will take in the morning. The campground here is really nice. It has lovely facilities and a short path to the beach.
I love the Gulf of Mexico! I believe I haven’t been to this part of the Gulf coast since the late 70′s, when I was quite small. Just after that, a hurricane devastated the areas around Mobile and Gulf Shores, where we used to visit. I remember the holes in the beach where the little sand crabs come out of. They were there today as I did yoga at the waterline while the tide came in. The water is not freezing, in contrast to the Pacific Ocean, so it was lovely to have it lap over my hands and feet as I worked through my asanas.
I came back to my campsite with some haikus in my head, which I wanted to post on facebook right away. As I approached, I saw a squirrel sitting on my handlebars. Oh, isn’t that cute, I thought, he wants to come with me. The squirrel jumped down, and I got my ipad to post my poems. I went over to my bike to put away my glasses and saw that the squirrel had chewed both zipper pulls off my handlebar bag and gnawed through about two inches of zipper!
The Yogaslackers had lent me this terrific bag, and I am definitely going to have to get a new one for them now! I’ve been overloading it for a while, so I thought it might need to be replaced at the end of the trip anyway. Now, how am I going to make it function for the rest of the ride? I haven’t thought of a way to use socks to fix it yet.
Wednesday, April 27
Buccaneer State Park to Biloxi, MS
35 miles
Not That Lovely of a Day at the Beach
I had planned to ride another twenty miles to Gautier today, but the wind kept getting stronger and the sky kept getting darker. The wind wasn’t that bad. It was blowing across the road from the Gulf, and sometimes a little behind me, even. Since it was coming across the beach, though, it was sending a constant barrage of stinging sand. The right side of my body, my bike and my water bottles ended up covered with a fine layer of fine Gulf sand.
Up to Biloxi, I followed highway 90 right along the beach through a well populated area with many hotels and campgrounds. After Biloxi, there’s a big bridge, then Ocean Park, and then nothing for the last twenty miles to Gautier. (Which, by the way, is pronounced go-sher or go-shee-ay, depending on who you talk to.) Not wanting to get stuck in lightning during that last 20 miles, I stopped. Unfortunately, the wind is not making it a fun day to go play at the beach. The few hardy souls I did see out there today looked like they were making the best of it, because they are on vacation! Then their kids would bolt for the car, leaving towel and inflatable toys blowing about on the sand.
The weather is supposed to be quite clear starting tomorrow. We’ll see.
I met more locals today, and what I wanted to say about them at first was that they tended to be not as smart as people I have met til now. At the risk of still sounding rude, I am taking that back, but I will go on record as saying that, so far, Mississippians have given me really poor directions. Time and space do feel different when you’re in a car, as opposed to being on a bike, but this feels like a pattern.
Yesterday, a convenient store clerk was sure it was “a really long way,” at least 30 miles to the state park I wanted to go to from her store. She said it took at least 25 minutes to drive there and I had to go all the way to Bay St. Louis first. The drive time may have been accurate, but it was only 15 miles (Yay!) and came well before Bay St. Louis.
This morning, I asked at the ranger station on the way out if the road along the coast was passable. I could see some construction when I rode in last night. I specifically asked if it was surfaced. The ranger told me it might be difficult in a car, but I could certainly get through on a bike, and that there was a wide, concrete bike path. I found the bike path about five miles later after I wound my way back to the coast road. Note to rangers everywhere: deep, wet sand is not actually passable by bike.
Later today, I met John at the cafe where I was having red beans and rice (since I missed it in New Orleans). He told me how he had been in Utah during Katrina, but came back about a month later with a trailer full of toys and bikes. His mother and sisters and everyone he knew had lost their house. Buildings were just gone. Boats and jet skis were all over on the inland side of the road, and the trees were full of people’s belongings. It was like a bomb had gone off. He’s worried now about developers coming in now, buying up land, and building condos and homes no locals can afford. We had a great conversation. But he also told me about a great beach rest station a mile down the road he had just noticed. I found it five miles later.
Oh, here it is!
But that’s why I have my iPad and maps and I ask lots of different people about where places are. I met Fred, retired military and current all-around community volunteer, at a Shell station just after I had checked out hotel prices online as the weather seemed to worsen. He asked me if I was local, and, when I said I was not, he set about convincing me to stop for the night here where the hotels were, before I got into the middle of nowhere. He wouldn’t really accept that I had already come to that same conclusion, and he also spent quite a bit of time singing the praises of his gps. It was pocket-sized, and only cost $99. He wasn’t sure how I would charge it daily, but if I went to the marine store to get stainless steel parts, he explained, I could build an all-weather lanyard to wear it around my neck so I could still hear it tell me the turns.
I passed a sign very early today that said, “Serious Bread.” I had to stop. It was serious. They gave me samples, and, when they heard I was riding coast to coast, a hunk of cheese to go with the loaf of bread I had bought. The husband had been an oceanographer, and the wife an occupational therapist, and they both became bakers when they retired.
As he wrestled with dough rising out of a storage bin, the husband told how his brother always said, “Why would anyone want to live in Mississippi?” I mentioned how people in Mississippi kept giving me poor directions. He gave me accurate directions to the highway 90 bridge and mumbled, “Well, most of us have PTSD.” Which gave me something to think about.
At the mention of the bridge, his wife explained how it was only three years since they had rebuilt it, since the hurricane, and showed me the poster for the upcoming Bay Festival. It was only the third year of the festival, held since they rebuilt the bridge, and this one was bound to be the biggest and most exciting yet. They had so many great community events, she said, there was always something going on. A Fur Ball for the animal society was coming soon, too.
The Bay St. Louis Bridge is great. It is two miles long and has a bike/pedestrian lane separated from traffic by a short wall!
I also met another cyclist today. Levi, a Marine, is riding for fallen soldiers. You can see his blog at leviaho.blogspot.com. He has a link at the bottom where you can donate to care packages for soldiers, if you are so inclined. He started on March 14th out of San Diego, and will be in DC by Memorial Day. Then he figures he will go up the coast and all the way around. He is mostly staying with people he knows or has contacted through a network of Marines. I have a hard time imagining how someone who is only 22 is already out of the Marines, especially with what they are doing these days. That is a lot of baggage to carry for a long time. I wish him well!
Though it wasn’t a good day to take breaks by hopping off the bike and taking a dip in the Gulf, it was again interesting to see all of the construction. At some points along the bike path, between the beach and the road, there was about an eight foot open ditch between the bike path and the beach. I could see the stepped seawall that they were reinforcing with what I can best describe as woven rebar boxes. Later, the whole thing gets covered with sand and becomes part of the beach.
What I couldn’t understand was, if they were going to all this trouble to reinforce the beach at the sidewalk, why didn’t they plan to do something to the sidewalk, like the beach walls in Pacific Beach, to keep the sand on the beach? Because of a few days of wind, traffic was blocked in some areas while they were plowing sand off the road.
Perhaps that was already looked in to, and it just isn’t possible. The other thing that made me wonder, was that there was almost no street parking for miles and miles of public beach. There could be parking one block over that I couldn’t see. Or, maybe Mississippi is encouraging visitors to walk or bike to the beach. They do have a great walkway running the whole length! (except for the part outside of Buccaneer State Park)
I fell over with my bike today. I came to a stop and unclipped my right foot to rest it on the curb, which is the opposite of what I normally do. So I lost my balance and toppled to the left, unable to unclip my left foot until I was lying on the ground under the bike! I hopped up as soon as I got my foot out with only a scraped knee. Adventure! Also, I am still seeing Mardi Gras beads on the side of the road.
The wind has gotten even stronger since I’ve been sitting in my hotel room typing, but no thunderstorm yet. It is good that I’ve got the time to catch on my blogging, though, as well as a power source, a good internet connection, and a wall to lean on while I’m typing.
P.S.
Can you see it? My first Waffle House sighting! I really am in the south!
Tuesday, April 26
New Orleans, LA to Waveland, MS
57 miles
It was hard to get up this morning after staying out late listening to New Orleans Jazz last night. I love it! I’d love to hear more music in NOLA, but I’m also feeling ready to get back on the road.
When I first checked the weather this morning, there was the possibility of hail and lightning and 60 mph winds where I was heading. I put in a load of laundry to see if it would go away. And it did. The weather advisory ended, so I left at 9am. I stopped at a Walgreens on the way out of town to load up on water, and asked the locals in line what they had heard about the weather, though, just in case.
“It’s only 30 percent. We need it, so we won’t get it.” That reasoning worked in Texas, too.
I had thought the area I was riding through would be pretty desolate, but it wasn’t. First I passed through a Vietnamese community, which reminded me of San Diego.
I had been thinking the same thing about banh mi and po’ boy sandwiches!
Then there was a steady stream of homes up on stilts. Most were very new, and on about ten to fifteen foot poles.
Like this igloo-shaped one.
I could still see some of the old poles, where I assume the pre-Katrina homes had been. Those seem to have generally been around four feet off the ground.
See the old posts in the foreground.
Here is the biggest hill I went over today. I wanted to have lunch at a small State Park with interesting looking battlements at the foot of this bridge, but it was still closed for repair.
So far, my impression of Mississippians, from a small sample of about four people in two different convenient stores, is that they are not nearly as friendly or helpful as Texans, in particular.
But more helpful than Google Maps, which sent me down a more gravel than paved road for three miles towards the end of my route today, which wouldn’t have been too bad, except I was bouncing down the road as fast as I could, because I was being chased by biting horseflies. Horseflies are either faster or more tenacious than regular flies, which you can usually lose at around ten miles an hour. These horseflies were holding on up to around 13mph. And did I mention they were biting? As soon as I got back on pavement, they disappeared. How do I report this issue to Google?
Then my directions also sent me to a locked gate at the back of Buccaneer State Park, so I had to circle back around to find the front entrance to finish my day. I paid for my site and went directly to the shower. If only I could figure out how to work in five showers a day along the way on these hot, humid days!
I have had so much great visiting with such wonderful friends and family lately, but I am more than happy to be alone in my tent tonight. No matter how much I miss everyone, not having to talk to anyone is rejuvenating for me. After a few days of this, I’ll be ready to spend time with people again!
Monday, April 25
New Orleans
A good 5 miles on foot
I slept late and started the day at Swan River yoga studio, a gorgeous space in a former library. I got there early and got to eavesdrop on a children’s yoga and singing workshop. “All I want is a happy hippopotamus, a happy hippopotamus!” What fun!
Haiyun was substituting for the regular teacher. He made sure he knew who everyone was before class started. We worked on hand balances and handstands for fun. One of the women had her baby, Indigo, napping next to her mat. It seemed like a lovely symbol of rebirth following the Easter holiday. I have really never before felt such strong energy vibrations during savasana.
After class, other students gave me suggestions about what to do in town, which mostly were about eating yummy desserts! These included the Creole Creamery, Audobon Park for snowballs, Sucre, and Angelo Brancatos for gelato or cannolis. The last was close to Louis’ house and had been featured on Treme last night. Unfortunately, they had been closed for Easter and were closed on Mondays.
Haiyun invited me to join him for lunch at Dosun, a Vietnamese restaurant. We had wonderful noodles, tofu, bok choy and mushrooms. I’ve had almost no Asian food since I left San Diego. It was delicious! He sais a Vietnamese population had developed here after the Vietnam war.
Haiyun had moved here about five years ago from Los Angeles. He runs the Swan River studio Arabi location. His studio is a donation based studio in St. Bernard, 9th ward. He is really working on community involvement. It was so exciting to hear about. It has been open three months and is covering costs so far. He’s also going on a trip to Haiti soon to do volunteer work.
We had a great conversation about yoga and traveling. So many people express their fear of me travelling alone, for example. We are surrounded by fear, but it’s an emotion, irrational, and might not necessarily reflect actual experiences. At the same
time, New Orleans has a very high murder rate. It’s good to be respectful of that, but pay attention to the energy you carry with you.
He dropped me off at Audobon Park, which was lovely.
I enjoyed this group of sculptures.
I was not surprised to read the title.
Audobon Park is across the street from Loyola University.
I zigzagged through the Garden District on my way to get ice cream. The homes there are known for being beautiful, and they were. A surprising amount of them were off white on off white.
I had expected more color. Though perhaps it was just primer, and that is the stage of hurricane recovery in this neighborhood.
I savored some Lavender Honey ice cream at the Creole Creamery! An excellent suggestion.
I headed back to Louis’ on the St. Charles line street car.
The trees all along St. Charles are full of Mardi Gras beads. I had to take it to the Canal St. line, take that, and then walk a few blocks.
Later I took the street car back down to the French Quarter to hear some music on Frenchman’s Street. Now that Bourbon street is a parody of itself, (I even saw puke on the street on a Monday night!) Frenchman’s is the place for music. Louis had recommended Glen David Andrews. http://www.glendavidandrewsband.com/ It was his birthday, and as the night went on, he also found out he had lost to his cousin for local Big Easy performer of the year awards. A singer in town for next weekend’s Jazz Festival joined him on stage. He played trombone in the crowd and out in the street. The chorus of his new song goes, “I’m gonna melt your ass like butter!” The trumpet player held a note for nearly five minutes. I am not exaggerating. They played the theme song from “Treme,” which might actually be his song. I’m not sure. I only heard it when I saw the show for the first time last night, but it’s awesome live. I wish I could listen to music in New Orleans clubs every day!
I left an hour after I should have, long after I was already too tired to stand up anymore. I stopped at Cafe du Monde for beignets for sustenance to get all the way home.
A day that ends with fried dough is a good day, indeed!
Sunday, April 24
Houston to New Orleans by train
3.3 miles by bike
Candy and Bill and Bill Jr. all got up at 3am to get me to the train station at four am. They are the most wonderful ever! Now I know the drill for boxing up my bike, so that was easy. They even had a used bike box at the station that I could use. More green and I saved $15!
This train ride was less eventful than my last. I really didn’t talk to anyone. I tried to sleep, but mostly just rested with my eyes closed. We were supposed to arrive just before three in the afternoon, but pulled in to New Orleans at 1:30.
I put my bike back together and called my host, Louis. He was surprised to hear the train was early, but said, in that case, I was in time to catch a parade!
A station attendant warned me about New Orleans drivers. He said they don’t respect bikes. He sounded more like he was from Brooklyn than from the south, which is what Candy told me most people don’t realize about New Orleans accents. Forewarned, I headed into the streets, only to find an eerily deserted downtown. Then I realized it was Easter Sunday, so everyone was home with their families. Great day for biking!
Louis owns a house with two shotgun apartments near City Park, which is as big as Central Park. He said that, during Katrina, the water rose to three and a half feet on his street. Luckily, his house is four feet off the ground! He happened to be visiting family in Florida during the hurricane, and wasn’t able to return for a month.
I took a shower to both clean up and stay awake, and we headed to the French Quarter for the Gay Easter Parade!
It wasn’t Mardi Gras, but there were still balconies and beads!
And brass bands!
And buggies!
Bonnets!
Beauty queens!
And of course, bunnies.
This bunny’s shirt says, “Zombies hate me because I am so awesome.”
After the parade, I already felt like I had done New Orleans. We walked around the French Quarter more, down to Jackson Square and the Big Muddy.
Here I am at the river with the beads I caught at the parade. See the riverboat in the background!
Louis is a really well-informed New Orleans tour guide, though he is not a native. He told me tons of interesting things, like the Italian word for okra is “gombo,” awfully similar to “gumbo.” We went out for po’ boys and gumbo and bread pudding for dinner. Yum!
Even though I only had a short time to visit, I was too tired from traveling to try to go out for music. Fortunately, the season premiere of Treme, HBO’s show set in New Orleans, was on, which features music prominently!
It’s hard to get to know a city like New Orleans in a day and a half, but I was already off to a running start!
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Kingwood, TX
5.5 miles
Since the train does not leave til Sunday, I got an extra day to fill up in Kingwood! Candy and I started the day with a bike ride.
(I took this picture of Candy behind me while I was riding. I’m still working on this skill.)
Kingwood was built as a planned community with walkable businesses and schools. It has networks of greenbelts and trails circling the neighborhoods and golf courses, through woods and along Lake Houston. It was a busy morning on the path, especially for joggers and dog walkers. Noticeably, nobody’s dog barked at or chased us on the bikes. Suburban dogs must be more used to being around people.
It hadn’t gotten very hot yet, which was lovely. Along Lake Houston, it was surprisingly windy, with gusts that pushed us around.
Me with Lake Houston in the background.
Notice the white caps on the lake.
There were also a ton of squirrels running around the trails.
As we wound around the neighborhoods, I realized I just cannot get over how huge the houses are. Even the big houses in suburban San Diego areas are lucky if they’re half the size of these houses. As far as I can remember, they even dwarf the houses in Covered Bridge and Red Barn Road in Crystal Lake. I guess there is just that much more space in Texas!
After riding, Candy and I went back to the Y. By the way, this Y still has a chapel and religious-themed quotes on the walls. More yoga! This was an Ashtanga class taught partly by Connie, who I met yesterday, and partly by Dory, who seemed to be perhaps a student teacher. A few times, Dory got nervous and forgot what came next in the sequence, which I never would have noticed if she hadn’t said anything. It was still great, but I can’t quite figure out how some Ashtanga classes, like Troy Lucero’s in Seattle, are the most strenuous thing you can imagine, while others, following basically the same sequence, are not.
Also, both today and yesterday, other students from class came up to me and told me they noticed a few things I did really well, which is a nice compliment, but feels a little weird that everyone’s looking at the new person in class. I guess I look around at the rest of the class, too, but I try not to. But I am also pretty excited about my jump throughs, because I’ve only been able to do them since this winter. I hope it makes people feel better when I tell them it took me over ten years of yoga to be able to do them.
After yoga, we met Bill and Nany and the girls at La Madeline for lunch.
If Souplantation were a French cafe with a slightly more confusing ordering strategy and better bread, this would be it. It was tasty, and the company was great. Ally, who is in Kindergarten, told me all about her Easter plans and her upcoming field trip to the zoo, and a previous trip to a petting zoo. She talks with her hands, and is very specific about describing things spatially. You can see her picturing closets and animal enclosures, for example, in her mind, and figuring out the best way to get them across clearly. Also, she has a very expressive face.
Posing.
Explaining.
The other night, Lexi, a third grader, told me about her upcoming state testing week. Though she was nervous about the tests, it was balanced out by some benefits, such as no homework, parties, and treats. She explained thoroughly about the passages they read, the strategies they are supposed to use, the goals she is to reach, and the subjects that are not taught when they are focusing on the tests. She described how she had extra math tutoring, and the way she could tell she was behind other students. She explained how the social studies Weekly Reader magazine was often about interesting topics, but the 20 questions they had to answer afterwards ruined it for her.
A third grader this self aware and reflective about what is going on in school, who can communicate this so clearly, is a deep, logical, evidence-based thinker, and none of this will be reflected by a standardized test.
Pretty awesome kids in this family, I’d say. (Though I do have to mention that later in the evening Candy and I spent some time going through old photo albums, which was so great! But we also confirmed that my brother Ben was the cutest child ever!)
After lunch, Candy and I went for pedicures, which happened to coordinate with my sister Katie having a spa day at home in Illinois! Neither Candy nor I are regular toenail doers, but this was a fun treat, and amazingly thorough. Our feet were soaked with scented salts. We had cooling peppermint mud on our calves, wrapped with warm towels.
We had paraffin wax treatments for our feet, and we even had orange slices between our toes!
This was all in addition to the regular old scrubbing, scraping, massaging, and painting.
Also, Shawn, who worked on my feet, said I was the toughest person he knew, when he heard about my trip. At least I’ll have shiny purple toenails now as I’m peddling along. They remind me of Jamie and Benjamin in Seattle! Hopefully I’ll get to fly someone soon with my beautiful new feet, too.
Nancy and Bill Jr. took us all out to Fuddruckers, one of Bill Sr.’s favorites, for Candy and Bill’s anniversary. Unfortunately, Bill Sr. wasn’t feeling very well, so he didn’t eat. At least there was a Florida game on TV! The last time I was at a Fuddruckers was in junior high on Sanibel Island. They seem to have expanded their menu since then. I don’t remember the boar, buffalo, and ostrich burgers from that time, or even their gooey cheese sauce, for which they are apparently famous, though their grilled onions do stand out in my mind.
We ate the ice cream cake when we got home! Yum!
Happy Anniversary!
Candy says that if I want to look for a job in Houston, I can stay with them! It’s wonderful to know I have such a great family and so many resources available to me. But I still am not ready for doing even much thinking at all about my next job, and I am so lucky that I don’t have to at this time.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Kingwood,TX
Rest day
Four big things on this rest day:
1. Today is Candy and Bill Bowman’s 44th anniversary! Congratulations! I’m so glad I got to spend this time with them, and I’m pretty lucky they spent their anniversary driving me around to run errands! Their son Bill, my cousin, and his wife Nancy brought over an ice cream cake, (from their house two doors down) but we haven’t eaten it yet, unfortunately, due to tired children. Ally and Lexi are wonderful, but sometimes it’s just time to go to bed. We’re all going to dinner the next day to celebrate.
2. Yay! I went to a yoga class at the Y! I am doing some yoga on my own during this trip, but it is just not the same as going to a class. I love to learn from different teachers, as well, and to see how they do things differently. Ginger, my teacher today, is a former ballerina. She asks students to really articulate different parts of the foot as they move through poses. She uses hand mudras together with movement in a way I have not experienced before, and she also does rotating arm positions. These were great for opening up around my shoulders, where I get a little hunched over from biking, and also for core strength. After class, I also flew her a bit, which was fun!
3. I got rid of the malfunctioning odometer and replaced it with a simpler one that works! (As far as I can tell so far.) Since I had purchased the flaky odometer at Performance Bikes, a national chain, the La Mesa store told me I could return it at any of their stores after I complained to them. Candy and Bill drove me to the store in Houston, about 40 minutes from their house. (Thank you!!!) At first, the manager said he was also surprised that I had trouble with this one, but then he realized it was the double odometer with cadence. That one is the one he has had the most returns and complaints for after all!
The mechanic helped me pick out a basic, non-wireless model and he installed it right away. This mechanic was not nearly as friendly, helpful or informative as the mechanics I’ve met in other bike shops on this trip, but he took care of the installation and they refunded the old one with no receipt and no hesitation. Now I have my new receipt in a safe place, and I am satisfied, so far. Getting back on the road will be the real test.
4. Candy and Bill had two carpets to return and wanted to pick out one new one for under a table, so we went to the Palace of Persia Rug shop. That was a fascinating experience. The owner was a character and a salesman! He told a steady stream of jokes and ordered around four men who peeled back rug after rug in piles to pull out ones stacked underneath. He insisted I take a small rug sample for my trip. I can put my water bottle on it, he says!
We brought home a rug to test out. It is pure wool and all natural dyes.
The other rugs, the owner said, were “splendid decorative floor coverings.” But this one was a work of art. And it was dramatically more beautiful and interesting than almost anything else in the store to my eye. It has variation in the detail work, rather than repetitive symmetry, but it is still exquisitely balanced.
Also today, I did decide to take the train to New Orleans. I think continued talk of beignets might have tipped the balance. And that camping was a little slim between here and central Louisiana, and I would rather have more time to explore the Gulf Coast beaches and the rivers and springs in Florida. This means I will mostly not be be following the Adventure Cycling route maps anymore, which I think will be fine. Onward!
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Montgomery to Kingwood
24 miles by bike
20 miles by car
I got an early start this morning, just before seven, as the sun is just finishing coming up. I was 44 miles away from my aunt and uncle’s house, and I hoped to be there by midday. The wind was not very cooperative, but I was still moving along at what felt like a reasonable pace. I couldn’t tell exactly how fast because my odometer had stopped working completely again.
I rode 15 miles to the outskirts of Conroe and stopped for donuts. I was really lured in because they advertised kolaches, a type of Czech pastry I adore. Unfortunately, the Texas version of a kolache is less like the best danish you’ve ever had and more like a hot dog wrapped in dough. Disappointing! But donuts are pretty much always delicious, so it wasn’t a total loss.
Then I took the 336 loop around Conroe. It soon became quite clear that what might have a good driving recommendation was not fabulous for biking. The shoulder kept disappearing on a rather restricted roadway. But probably ten people over the last few days insisted I could not bike through the town of Conroe. It was only seven miles, and traffic was light.
I turned right on the 1314, where they had just finished resurfacing the road.
With the worst possible biking surface ever! It was bumpy, bumpy, bumpy, and hot. It impeded rolling. It was basically gravel covered with tar. The “Share the Road” signs seemed to be laughing at me. I had left a message with Candy and Bill earlier to let them know I was on my way. When they returned my call about two miles down this road and offered to come get me, I was ready. I rode for about 25 more minutes, and then found a good place for them to turn off and pick me up. I was happy to see them just a few minutes later. I won’t have anyone to come and pick me up from here on out, so I am thinking of today as using my resources wisely!
This way we had more time to visit, too. My cousin Bill and his family live two houses down, so his daughter Lexi waltzed in to hang out with the grandparents while her sister was running a fever. I am so lucky to get to spend more time with this part of the family!
A few photographic odds and ends I’ve been collecting:
I keep hearing about the blue bonnets. There are many wildflowers along the roads, but nothing that I have seen that could be called a blue bonnet. Many people are almost apologetic about the lack of recent rain. Apparently the wildflowers should be much more amazing this time of year.
These two are such a tiny sample, but it’s fun to see all of the ranch signs along the way.
We spent a lot of time looking at maps of the rest of my trip this afternoon. I’m supposed to meet my dad at I-75 in Florida by May 9th, which is tight. I’m thinking about jumping ahead by train again so I can spend more time on the beaches of the Gulf Coast, rather than in the rather empty middle of Louisiana. There’s more figuring to be done!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Ledbetter back to Burton by car
Burton to Montgomery
65 miles
Perhaps busy is an overstatement. But it feels like I did a lot today.
Downtown Brenham was a cute, historic-looking downtown, one where I might like to spend an afternoon browsing the shops and eating ice cream at the It Must Be Heaven cafe. There were some huge Victorian painted ladies and a colorful art studio. I also love the way “Brenham” sounds, especially when you say it with a little bit of a twang, and everything after the n gets kind of swallowed up. But it was just eight o’clock in the morning, and I had a long day ahead of me, so I just sped on through.
The couple at the gas station yesterday had practically insisted I stop at the Ace Hardware in town to get some pepper spray. I thought I might, though, because as I got deeper into the country, I was not as convinced that everyone’s dogs were going to be contained. I’ve already been sort of chased by two sets of dogs. The first stopped when they got to the road (thank goodness for good training!) and the second did come into the road, but turned back when a car came. Dogs seem to be very agitated by bikes. I would feel awful if a dog got hit by a car because it was chasing me, but I also don’t want one to try to chomp me. Tim suggested I just stop, and they’ll stop chasing me if I am not running away, which makes sense, but I don’t want to just put myself within biting range either.
Anyway, Ace Hardware wasn’t open yet, and also, they had explained so many times how to find it, of course I didn’t see it anywhere. Nor did see I see any of the street names they had mentioned, so I did stop at an organic food store on the way out of town to ask for directions. The proprietor mentioned a storm might be coming today, which I hadn’t seen in the weather report. She kept talking about seeking shelter. Rain would be fine to ride in, but I do want to avoid lightning. I asked if I would be able to see the storm coming, so I would know when to stop. A Texan, born and bred, (that was how she prefaced her answer) she said the wind would die down, then get stronger, and then I would be able to smell it, a real sweet smell. And then I should seek shelter.
Keeping an eye on the clouds and smelling the wind suspiciously, I headed on to Navasota.
The organic store lady recommended this state park as a beautiful and educational place to seek shelter before Navasota. It’s the place where the constitution was signed when Texas became independent in the 1800′s. The sky looked cloudy, but not yet stormy, and I was thinking it might be nice to weather the storm having lunch in Navasota, so I didn’t stop. Luckily, the sign was very informative.
I knew there was a place to stay in Navasota, but that would make the ride to Kingwood the next day about 70 miles. Instead, I thought I could move on another 30 or so miles to Lake Conroe, depending on the weather. As I came into town, I passed an Ace Hardware right away, so I stopped and got my pepper spray after all. I still haven’t taken it out of the package.
The teenager working there thought there wasn’t much of interest in Navasota’s downtown, but he did draw me a little map with the post office and a cafe across the street. He himself would prefer eating at Subway. I started at the post office, mailing off my fleece and my travel dress. They seem the most unused. The post office employees said they saw many cyclists coming through, and they believed I would meet the nicest people in the country right here in Texas. This was in sharp contrast to the gas station owner who wanted to know what I was carrying for protection, an uzi, a flamethrower, or what.
At the post office, they hadn’t heard of a storm coming. They wished one would, because it’s been unusually dry this year, but we checked online and one was not predicted. Just to be sure, I asked the two men having a conversation on the street corner just outside the post office. They had been laughing so hard, we could hear them inside. They didn’t think it would storm either, but they also wished it would.
I asked about the weather at the Corner Cafe, too. Phil, the waiter, owner and husband of the cook, put it out to the rest of the customers. Three tables of diners yelled back and forth what they thought, which was the same as everyone else I had talked to. One of the women, eating alone, told me how her son had ridden in the MS 150 ride the past weekend. I felt like a local at this cafe!
Even though I had a milkshake with my lunch, Phil insisted I try the Butter Pecan Cake. You can’t get it everywhere, he said, only some places in Alabama or Georgia. Now, it’s been a few years since I actually decided I would stop eating cake, because it tends to be disappointing. But I figure I should eat things I can’t get anywhere else. And it was goooood! Could’ve been butter pecan ice cream. I asked for an extra small piece, and Phil brought me what I would consider to be a big piece. He said it was only half of a Texas-size piece!
Another group came in for lunch, and Phil’s wife sat down to join them. It was kind of amusing to overhear their rather long discussion about the relative merits of Thunderbird vs. Boone’s Farm. As I was getting ready to leave, Phil gestured to one of the men and told me that Leon there was a world famous artist, and that I should check out is work in the gallery down the street. He also recommended the Blues Museum. “At least take a picture so you can say you were there!” He knows what bike travel is like!
Manse Lipscomb and Joe Tex both hail from Navasota. The exhibits at this antique shop were pretty interesting, but also good for checking out quickly and moving on.
Here’s Leon in his studio at Tejas Antiques. I love the turquoise color he uses. He said he grew up in Beverly Hills, but he’s been in Texas for almost 25 years now. He loves the people, he loves the weather, he loves everything about Texas, he says. And, you can make a living here.
As I was leaving, I noticed the construction at city hall. The bell tower had a been a hot topic of conversation at the cafe, but I hadn’t noticed until then what they were referring to.
It might have been what the two men on the corner were laughing about as well.
I headed out of town on the 105. Much of the day was on some awesome road surfaces.
This asphalt was so smooth! It helps the bike roll in a way that makes up a little for unhelpful wind. It also provides a more comfortable ride, with less bumps, and the light color doesn’t throw as much heat.
The hills were starting to smooth out, too. There is such a big difference between rolling hills that are just a little too steep on the upside, so I have to struggle a bit to get over the top, and more gentle ones, where I can coast quite a ways from the downhill, and then spin comfortably the rest of the way up. Both, however, involve a lot of shifting.
Yesterday I encountered this sign, but thank goodness I turned on to a different road before I got to the illustrated hill!
You can see the hills coming, but they always turn out different than you think when you actually get on them.
I headed out of Navasota around two o’clock. Eventually it starts to get a little cooler in the evening, but two to five is probably the hottest part of the day here. So I stopped a lot. I filled up my water bottles with ice rather than water at convenient stores to keep my Gatorade from tasting boiled. I chatted with a woman at one store, who was waiting in her car for her son to get off work. She seemed fascinated by what I was doing, but also scared for me.
I stopped at a farm stand. Watermelon sounds delicious, but it’s much too large to carry on the bike. I opted for citrus instead. Ron, who was manning the booth, was curious about what I was doing.
“Did you quit your job?” he asked excitedly. I nodded. “I did too!” he said.
His wife passed away, and after a while he thought there had to be more than this. He quit his job and sold his house. He told me how he first spent four months in Belize, but he was bored there. Since he’d been back, he’d been helping out with this farm stand and trying to start a coffee roasting business, but he felt like that wasn’t really what he wanted to do either.
I love meeting people who are having similar experiences to me, and I feel like I’m collecting quite a little tribe right now. Managing choices about what to do can be difficult when so many options are possible. Managing “stuff” always comes up in conversation with fellow travelers, as well as expectations about what we sometimes feel we should be doing. There’s so much to talk about, from logistical details, to ideas, to ideology.
In addition to that, with the bike trip, I often feel the impetus to keep moving, no matter what. I keep meeting people and finding places that I would like to spend more time with and get to know better. It makes it easier to remember that I always can come back, and keeping in touch with people scattered far and wide is easier now than ever. Even though I spend quite a bit of time by myself, I rarely feel alone.
Tuesday, April 19
Smithville to Burton
56 miles
Within a few miles of leaving this morning, I met a woman named Tessa who is also biking the Southern crossing on her own. She is from Seattle, but she left from LA. She just mailed her cold weather gear home, and was feeling very light. I never got to find out what she got rid of, because she didn’t slow down for much of a chat. Like everyone else, she sped ahead of me. I would have really liked to talk to her more!
I have been noticing a lot of roadkill today, which is a little icky, but also interesting to see the wide variety of wildlife here. So far today, I have seen a turtle, an armadillo, a small deer, a large bird, a small bird, a very small bird, like a chickadee, a raccoon, a possum, a cat, a cardinal, and a vulture. Groups of vultures often gather around dead things in the middle of the road, and they really do not want to move when cars come by. They pretty much ignore me.
I rode through the tiny towns of Warrentown and Round Top. Everything, which wasn’t much, was closed, because apparently these places only come to life during the antique shows, which I missed by a week or two.
I missed the chance to have this in my home.
Mostly there are a lot of empty barns and fields, in which I guess antique dealers set up shop during the fairs. There was also a sign advertising a facility with eight motel rooms and a 20,000 square foot arena. Just in case you and your seven friends need one. Though this is Texas.
Another space consisted of two antique barns, each labelled “Excess” and a house next to them with a big sign that said, “Clutter.” Those designations do not actually make me want to shop for antiques.
Also in Round Top, population 90, was the world’s smallest Catholic Church, about the size of a shed, complete with graveyard. There was also a garage staffed with super friendly people who were very happy the antique shows were gone, and a pie shop, which was, very sadly, closed.
It looked like they really had good pie!
At the Citgo station outside of Burton, I met a helpful couple who had lots of opinions, but they helped me figure out a less hilly route and gave me a more detailed map of Kingwood, where I will be visiting my aunt and uncle (technically my mom’s cousin) when I get there. I was hoping to find a place to stay within the next few miles, and they thought there might be a campground about four miles down the road.
At four miles about exactly, I found a very pleasant picnic area, posted no camping, unfortunately, but no campground yet. I sat down to have a snack and check the Internet. A pick up truck pulled in, and, because I talk to everyone now, I met Daryll, a construction manager for a project on a ranch down the way. He was very interested in what I was doing, because he had sold his house and bought an RV, and was traveling around the country for work projects that would take several months at a time. Of course I was very interested in that, because traveling and getting paid at the same time is pretty great.
After talking for a while, he invited me to stay out at the ranch where he was working, and even agreed to drive me back to the picnic area in the morning, so I could pick up the ride where I left off. This was because the ranch was ten or so miles back where I had just come from.
It was cool to see the work he’s doing at the ranch. It’s not really a working ranch, though they do have cattle, as well as bison, elk, and donkeys. It’s more of a holiday and some weekends home for a wealthy family. Currently, they are working on the patio and pool, with it’s own bathhouse and a water park-caliber, twisty, turny waterslide. I would love to go to a party there some day!
The house was 200 years old, and had been relocated to the ranch and probably at least tripled in size. Daryll was particularly proud of the large beams throughout the house. They were huge logs that had at one time been rebared together to create an oil drilling platform. The homeowner had seen a truck carting them away, flagged him down, and bought them on the spot. They had done a lot of work to make make them look both presentable and historical to go with the house.
It is definitely a challenge to get used to the humidity, but so far Texas is a really interesting place.