(Let me first say I took a few days to write this post so I could calm down and assess my emotions. I thought about sugar coating it to not make a certain party look bad, but there are a lot of people giving me tons of moral support on my journey. To tell them anything but the truth would be wrong in my opinion. I am just going to speak from my heart in it. So here goes…)
Upon waking up I cleaned up my mess and headed to the front of the station with my trash. A lady saw me appear from behind the station and quickly rolled up her window assuming I was homeless. Some local truckers in the gas station talked to us about routes. Today we would hit Emory Pass which is the biggest mountain to climb on the entire Adventure Cycling Southern Tier route. They said it may be too windy to attempt it and talked about considering a different route on I-10. That also had its cons in that dust storms happen regularly there and this caused a 19 car pileup on the highway a few days before. After debating for about an hour I came to the conclusion that the ACA route has never steered me wrong. If the winds got too bad we could always just pitch a tent on the side of the mountain and continue on the next day.
Throughout the trip Andrew had been riding about a half mile to a mile ahead of me. He would continually gloat about how he was faster than me. To be honest he probably did start the trip in better physical shape than me, but the majority of the time I let him stay in front of me so I could look out for his own safety. I had the maps/navigation equipment and carried all the tools to fix the bikes. He didn’t get good cell phone service with his provider and I figured if he broke down or got lost behind me he would be in danger. So I just continued to let him ride ahead, but on more than one occasion warned him that he needed to pace himself or he was going to get too sore. On more than one occasion he overexerted himself and wanted to quit with only 30-40 miles under our belts for the day. He was just too hard headed to listen to me about pacing himself.
We pedaled on through flat land for about 20 miles and I finally hit a convenience store right at the bottom of the mountain and could see the 8100 foot summit looking up at it. Andrew was sitting there on the bench when I arrived with a familiar piece of paper in his hand. He had showed it to me previously and it was a distant family member of his who lived in Las Cruces about 60 miles back. I went to the bathroom oblivious to why he was holding it as we had already been through Las Cruces. I figured if he wanted to get in touch with them he would have when we were actually in Las Cruces the day before. When I got back from the restroom he walked up to me with the paper in high slightly shaky hand and said he was quitting. I sat there for about a half hour and tried to reason with him. I told him we were almost to San Diego, that his brother would want to see him push through, and that people back home were cheering him on. It didn’t seem to work. It just happened to be that the Adventure Cycling Association was doing a supported tour heading east and a lot of the riders were showing up at the gas station. The riders included a good combination of all age groups and both men and women who were heading from San Diego to Florida. A few of them even told him he was almost done and to push on. None of this seemed to help. I told him that I couldn’t risk getting stuck on this mountain at dark and had no more time to debate with him. If I sat there any longer he was risking my safety. I warned him he would regret this decision one day and told him I hoped to see him behind me in a few minutes as I rode away. At this point I was about 80% sure I would see him behind me in a few minutes and he would continue on.
I pedaled on for about a mile and I heard him yelling behind me. I slowed down and got excited at first thinking he had changed his mind. When he caught up to me he said to me, “You are actually going to leave me here?” I responded, “No Andrew, you are leaving me.” I hoped he would continue riding west, but he turned around and headed east. I guess he figured if he quit that I would quit with him, but quitting is not in my vocabulary and never will be. I knew his family was only about 50 miles away and he would be okay so I continued on. I had to make it to a campsite on this mountain before dark to steer clear of danger.
As I pedaled up the mountain I started to see more beauty than I had ever seen previously on the trip. There was much nature, rivers, streams, cliffs, and canyons the further I pedaled. I was saddened that if Andrew had just pedaled on a little further he would have experienced this with me. While riding an older gentleman in a car pulled me over and asked if I was Samuel. I asked him if there was another rider heading in my direction and he said yes. I continued on in hopes we could maybe connect and ride together. It is more rare to find riders heading westbound this time of year as the prevailing winds come from the west. Therefore most choose to start in San Diego and head east. I climbed for 17 miles and finally reached Hillsboro. I had lunch in a little diner and chatted with a family who was exploring New Mexico for the first time. The lady working in the restaurant told me I had plenty of time to reach Kingston which is about halfway up the mountain. I pedaled on through the most beautiful scenery I had ever seen in my life and finally reached Kingston. I found a campsite, but it had no showers and the family at the diner told me they were staying in the bed and breakfast in Kingston. I pedaled on in search of it and finally reached it about 5pm. There was a lady hanging laundry on the clothesline and I asked if she was the owner. She told me she was and I explained my situation in that I previously had someone to split expenses of rooms with, but now I no longer do. She decided to give me the rooms for almost half price at $50 dollars. The family had already told her I was on my way and somehow she already knew another rider heading west was to arrive in Kingston tonight. She called a guy named Bob by phone and he told her the rider was staying with him. Being very thoughtful they both arranged for us to meet. About an hour and a half later Bob and Samuel showed up at the B&B and we chatted for about an hour. It turns out we ride about the same distance each day and he also had ambitions to make it to San Diego. We agreed we would ride together the next day and Bob said he would guide us up the mountain. We would be climbing over 2000 feet within 9 miles which proves to be the steepest stretch on the entire route. I went to bed happy I wouldn’t have to face the mountain alone the next day.

To Andrew: Something I never told you is on the first leg of this trip Aaron and I had a deep conversation. We both agreed if anything ever happened to one of us we would always look out for the others brother. This experience doesn’t change that. Aaron would have never left me sitting on the side of that mountain, but I also realize you aren’t Aaron. Honestly right now I have some hard feelings, but always remember if you ever need anything I will be there for you.

We got on the road about noon and headed down Mesa Street in El Paso. It is absolutely beautiful with views of the strip, Mexico, and New Mexico. On the strip we ate lunch, picked up some vitamins at GNC, and tubes from Wal-Mart. The strip was very busy this time of day and we had to be defensive while riding down it. We coasted along downhill and about 10 miles later saw the signs for New Mexico. This was a confidence booster and I was all about getting pictures in front of it. The roads in New Mexico were much better than Texas. They were totally smooth and didn’t have the glued together gravel that was seen through much of Texas. We pedaled along the smooth country roads, but then unfortunately we hit dirt. We turned around and figured out we had missed a turn. Fortunately, it was only about a half mile back. The ride to Las Cruces was beautiful. We spent the majority of the day rolling through pecan groves and across the winding Rio Grande River. The shade from the pecan trees was a relief from the Texas sun we had become so acquainted to. We stopped for lunch at a Mexican/barbeque restaurant on Las Cruces and I called a campground about 15 miles up the road. The guy on the phone said they had 3 sites left and hot showers for $5 each. We pedaled on in search of it and got close by sunset. Unfortunately, I got a flat and before we knew it darkness had come. We searched for the campground quite awhile with no luck. The maps said there was a motel 15 miles up the road in Hatch so we decided to do some night riding to try to make it to better accommodations. While riding in the darkness I started to hear faint sounds of a metal chain. At first I thought it was the zipper on my jacket flapping together. A few seconds later I felt a dog at my heels attempting to bite me. I looked down and saw huge teeth right at my ankles. I tried to speed up, but I was on a steep incline pedaling uphill. I started yelling at the dog and eventually it gave up leaving me with no injuries. When we got to Hatch we found out the motel was out of business. I talked to a cashier at a truck stop inside about our options and he said to go ahead and pitch a tent behind the building. There were some cops sitting out front chatting and we tried to wait for them to leave assuming they would have a problem with us doing this. Apparently, there isn’t much crime in Hatch, because they sat there for hours. Getting tired I finally just went up and asked them if it was okay. One of the officers replied, “It’s the cashier’s property so if he says it’s okay then it is.” I am not sure the cashier working the midnight shift owned the place, but that was all I needed to hear to pitch my tent and quickly fall asleep.

We pedaled on through Easter Sunday and everyone was celebrating. Easter is a huge holiday for the Hispanic population. I smelled barbeque all day long as we passed many houses. We arrived in a town and I asked some locals in front of a church where I could get some of this barbeque. They said, “That backyard barbeque and you can’t buy it in restaurants around here.” I was heartbroken and pedaled on in search of something good to eat. Unfortunately, everything in town was closed for the holiday so we continued on. We got to Socorro and chatted with a guy for awhile in front of the Family Dollar store. We told him how everyone had advised us to take the loop around El Paso for safety reasons. He laughed and said El Paso is not as dangerous as people make it seem. He said if we took the bypass it would be close to 10 miles longer and we would have to climb a mountain. We took his advice and decided to just ride through the city. We had to settle on Burger King as it was the only restaurant open. We got into the heart of El Paso and realized we had missed a turn. We started talking to locals and got different directions from all of them. After about an hour of this we finally got back on track. Andrew started having a major flat problem with his rear wheel toward the end of the day with about 7 flats total. We were out of tubes and only had one patch left. The goal was to make it to New Mexico, but we had to settle on a hotel room in El Paso on Mesa Street. We both are unsure of why people talked like El Paso was so dangerous. The part we are in is a very nice area with very nice people. They told us there is a Wal-Mart 2 miles up the road so we will be buying some patches and tubes in the morning.

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We stopped at a local truck stop for breakfast. I got the works plus some and it was excellent. These Texas portions are keeping us well fed and the prices are fair. We had to hop on I-10 for part of the day, but luckily there were service roads to ride on along the side of the road. I counted only 2-3 cars pass us the whole time we were on the service roads. The service roads ended at sunset and luckily the ACA maps put us on farm roads to keep us off the busy interstate. Unfortunately, the farm roads ran only about 2 miles from the Mexican border. It was getting dark and we had forgotten to buy batteries. We had one Mini-Mag flashlight guiding us down the farm roads. After pedaling on awhile I saw some bright flashing lights behind us. It was the border patrol. They told us they were pulling us over to check on us. He said, “I am not sure if you watch the news or not, but there is a drug war going on in Juarez and it has the potential to spill over this border tonight.” He asked where we were staying and I told him Fort Hancock. I asked if it was safe to stay there and he said “yes, but don’t camp tonight.” He said, “It’s about 10 miles up the road. Pedal faster!” We arrived in Fort Hancock about 45 minutes later, but couldn’t find the motel. A Hispanic woman pulled over to help us as it was obvious we were lost looking at our maps on the side of the road. With her help we found the hotel. There was an Indian woman working at the front desk who looked like she owned the place. Her credit card machine wasn’t working properly and she wanted $68 for the room. Together we only had $64 cash without digging through our bags so we offered her that. She thought about it for a minute and said she had to have $64.66. I am not sure why the 66 cents was so important, but I dug it up for her. We walked across the street to the only diner/restaurant in town and the two border patrol officers that pulled us over earlier were eating. They said, “You made it”, and we got to chatting. They said that night was the highest alert for the drug war spilling over they have had in some time.

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I woke up to another flat tire and changed the tube. We had to backtrack about a mile from the campsite to town for breakfast. The heavy winds pushed us along without pedaling, but we knew it was just going to be extra work for us on the way back. After breakfast we filled up extra water bottles and packed food as we had a 75 mile stretch with no food or water stops. While riding my new tube continued to lose air. We pulled over, took the tire off, and found a thorn in the tire. With the heavy 40mph winds we weren’t sure we would make it to Van Horn and prepared ourselves to camp on the side of the road if needed. We pedaled on battling the winds until sunset and made it to a little town called Valentine, TX. It had taken us 7 hours to ride 37 miles the winds were so strong. We were both wore out, but there was nowhere to eat and it didn’t look like we could camp in this town so we pedaled on to Van Horn. Fortunately, the wind died down some, but not totally. We pulled over to put our headlights and taillights on, but could only find one of each. I used the taillight and Andrew used the taillight. As we got closer to town we could see the city lights ahead and it seemed like we were getting close. We pedaled on for another hour and thought we were within a few miles, but a sign told us we were still 10 miles away. I started getting a flat, but it was too dark to change the tire so I pumped it up and pedaled on. The batteries died in the headlight and we had to tape a flashlight to the handlebars just to see. We descended as we got closer to the city and the temperature dropped drastically. About 2 miles from the city we pulled over and called some local motels. We found one for a good price and pedaled on in search of the first decent night’s sleep of the trip. On the way there we stopped at a truck stop and had some dinner. I couldn’t even see straight as I sat there and ate. The ride today had taken a toll on us both and it was definitely the hardest ride of the trip so far.

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When we woke up the regulars at the hostel all seemed to have hangovers from Norbert’s going away party the night before. They invited us to breakfast at the local café. We both had breakfast burritos and discussed the best route through the mountains. The cook had his laptop and helped us figure it out. He said instead of following the adventure cycling route to Hwy 118 we would be better off staying on US-90 until Van Horn, TX where we would reconnect with the route. This would be slightly shorter the flatter. We pedaled on and about an hour into our ride we got heavy headwinds of almost 40mph. It seemed to take forever to get to Alpine. We stopped at the Dairy Queen for lunch. A few people in there asked us about our trip. A trucker thought I was lying when I told him it only took about 20 riding days to get from Fernandina Beach, FL to Alpine, TX. As we were leaving another local also told us to take the US-90 route from here to Van Horn. We stopped at the local bike shop in town and were lucky in that the owner has also done this route and had a ton of knowledge. He advised us on all sorts of areas including routes, safety, and our bikes. We pedaled on to Marfa battling the high winds all day. On the way there a cross wind hit me and knocked me into the rumble strips on the highway. The force of the impact caused me to get a flat tire. We got to Marfa at sunset and ate at the local Subway. I called the RV place and a nice old lady told me we could tent camp there for $10 each tent. Personally I think these campgrounds should just charge us for one tent. Our two small tents don’t equal the size of most big tents. Unfortunately, the campground didn’t have showers or electrical hookups. We got the tents setup much quicker than before. The high winds continued on all night and the temperature dropped into the 30’s. I had to put on extra clothes in the middle of the night just to keep warm.

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We woke up in the abandoned building and picked up the trash the previous cyclists had left behind. I figured we would give cyclists a better image so the owner would be more inclined to let future cyclists stay. I rebuilt Andrew’s wheel. Luckily Bryan at Links and Kinks had given us 12 extra spokes each and we had to use 9 of Andrew’s to fix his wheel. I woke up to another flat and Andrew repaired that while I fixed his wheel. He found holes in my tire so put a new one on the front. I told him he should put new rim liner in his rim, but he didn’t. On the way out of the building his tire popped. We pushed it across the street to the general store, he changed the tube, and we ate some brunch. With all the mechanical problems we didn’t end up getting on the road until 11am. We had a goal of riding 20 miles to Sanderson and then 55 miles to Marathon. The maps said we would be climbing 3000 feet in elevation. The hills started nearly instantly and it was uphill nearly the whole way to Sanderson. We rode through some ranches at first and then started hitting some beautiful scenery in the mountains. In Sanderson we ate at the Dairy King. They served Mexican food and we both had the chicken fajitas. We stopped at the gas station for some energy bars and tons of water. This was our longest ride with no water in between at 55 miles. The first 40 miles were a slight incline uphill. We passed some cyclists heading east who stayed in Marathon the night before. They said to ask for Gill who owns a hostel that hosts cyclists when we got to town. The last 15 miles turned out to be absolutely amazing. It was nearly all downhill, the wind was at our backs, and the temperature finally started to cool. When we arrived we stopped at a gas station with three Hispanic guys sitting out front. They knew Gill, but it was hard to understand their directions. The guy inside helped us out and we pedaled on to the hostel. When we arrived they told us Gill is a pilot and was out of town, but we were welcome to stay. They host cyclists free and had warm showers, beds, and laundry facilities. They recommended a restaurant down the street and we rode there first before settling in. We sat down to dinner and I quickly realized how chill the atmosphere was in the town. Everyone is extremely laid back and go easy. Much, much slower pace of life than I am used to in Ohio. It would be best described as a small Mexican town in Texas. A lot of the houses are even made from clay and stone like in Mexico. I had the spaghetti and it was some of the best I have ever eaten. It was southwestern style and very spicy. It turned out our waitress is also living at the hostel. The people who stay here work on the organic farm in order to pay for room and board. We did some laundry, showered, and I worked on my blog before bed. I met a guy named Norbert who is staying at the hostel. He is from Australia and works at random organic farms around the world. He leaves tomorrow for Utah and plans to do the same thing in Europe and India in the future. Andrew and I chatted with him awhile before going to bed.

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Upon waking up we had peanut butter and jelly for breakfast, got packed, and quickly got on our way. We rode near the Mexican border all day. There were Border Patrol trucks nearly every mile searching through the bushes for illegals. We went through some beautiful scenery including canyons and rivers that run from the USA into Mexico. Andrew broke a spoke on the way to Langtry. Unfortunately, it was on the drive side. The cassette has to be removed to repair this. I packed a cassette tool, but forgot to bring a wrench to fit it. It was quite scary, because spokes usually break in a domino effect. Once one breaks it is a chain reaction. We pedaled on in hopes of finding a wrench. When we got to Langtry there was only one business in the whole town. It was a general store. They served food, but the only two things on the menu were cheeseburgers and beef brisket sandwiches. We opted for the cheeseburgers. They were made out of black angus beef and were so good we had two each. A guy doing the census was inside and I asked the population. The man and woman debated if it was 18 or 19. They finally came to the conclusion the population was a whopping 18 people. While we were eating two men and woman rode in on touring motorcycles. I recommended the cheeseburgers to them and they all ordered. We got to chatting and it turns out they are also from Fairborn, Ohio. They trailered their motorcycles to Dallas and are touring the Big Bend area. They were extremely interested in our trip. They bought our lunch and told us to come out to their house to party when we get back to Ohio. We took some pictures with them and got on our way to try to make it to Dryden before dark. Andrew got a flat tire and realized four more spokes were broken. His wheel was hitting the frame. I trued it roadside the best I could, but was very fearful it would fall completely apart before we made it to the next town. We pedaled through the hills and fortunately made it to Langtry. This town only had a population of 11 with one general store/post office. We bought some food and asked if they had a wrench. The owner let us use one and we got the cassette off and the spokes inserted. Unfortunately they were too short so we decided to wait until morning to fix it. I asked the owner if he knew somewhere to camp. He initially said roadside and I asked if it was legal, but he said he wasn’t sure. He debated a little longer and said we could camp in an old building with no roof he owns across the street. He said he is weary to let cyclists camp in it, because the last group had left tons of trash behind. We bought some more food, thanked him, and headed across the street to the building. We set up our tents, but the wind was so rough it was blowing them down. I took my rain fly off to help the problem. We got to bed, but I didn’t sleep too well with all the wind and the semis passing by all night.

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I woke up right as the sun was coming up. It was way too cold for the cold showers the campground offered. This was our first time packing all our gear, tents, and sleeping bags after a night of camping so we were slow. It took us about an hour total. We went back to the gas station from the night before in search of breakfast. A guy working in there recommended the Jacksons at a place across the street called the Krazy Chicken Café. I ended up eating two of them and they were definitely the best breakfast burritos I have ever had. They were flour tortillas with beans, eggs, Mexican sausage, cheese, peppers, and homemade salsa. We rode to Del Rio and passed an Air Force base on the way in to town. It was non-stop jets flying over our heads only a few hundred feet above. We needed some bike supplies and found a bike shop in town. We talked to the guy working in the shop for about a half hour before we got on our way. He said he is planning on opening another shop across town. Not realizing we were already on West 90 we pedaled the opposite way in search of it. This went on for about 2 miles until we saw a sign that said, “Last chance to turn around before entering Mexico.” At that point we both realized we were going the wrong way. An army guy at the Greyhound station already warned us that it is very easy to enter Mexico without passports, but hard to get back in the USA. Neither of us have passports so that could have turned out bad. We pedaled on throughout the day with plans to make it to Comstock. We ran into a border patrol station on the highway. We told the guy our story and he asked if we were US citizens. We said yes and he let us go on our way without showing identification. The maps said Comstock had a grocery store, restaurants, post office, and campground. We got there and the one restaurant in town was closed. The grocery store was actually a convenience store/bar. There were people buying single beers and getting drunk inside. We chatted with them awhile and headed on to the RV park. The sign coming into the park said, “Read your bible.” We found the owner and he only charged us $5 each to camp. The site had electrical outlets and what he called a “solar shower”. It was actually a building with a black rubber hose on top that heats up and in turn heats the water. Unfortunately, we were too late in the day and got stuck with cold showers. At this point a cold shower was better than no shower. We ate the convenience store food and hit the hay.

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We got dropped off in Sabinal at about 9:30am. There was a store closed nearby with a shelter so we assembled the bikes there. We first checked for damage. The rims had some slight kinks and wobbles they didn’t have when we left, but nothing too serious. I had some scratches on my new frame, but I am sure I will scratch it up even worse on the tour. Our derailleurs were also out of adjustment. At this point I was just happy to see the bikes in one piece and in front of us. We got them assembled and everything packed up in about an hour. A small town Sheriff kept a close eye on us the entire time. The situation did look a little weird. As we were about to leave a truck pulled up and the Texan asked what we were up to. I told him we were putting our bikes together and asked if he was the owner. He responded, “I have a small interest in it.” I take it that means he was just being nosy. He then said, “To get done with our business and get on out of here.” I didn’t think it was a good idea to get into it with a guy with a big truck, big dog in the passenger seat, and likely a shotgun behind the seat. We just finished up and headed out. Uvalde was 21 miles away and we needed to get to a Walmart. Andrew needed some boxer briefs and I needed a new cable for my iPhone. I was having serious internet withdrawals. As we pedaled along we both looked for the X in the road where I was hit, but it was never found. I was pretty nervous as you can imagine riding through this stretch and was continually checking my rear. My panniers seemed to be loaded unequally. Whenever I looked back the bike wanted to fall. The more I rode, the more comfortable I became with the passing cars. The shoulder was very wide in most parts so I am really wondering how far off the road the guy had to have been last January to hit me. He tried to tell the cop that we were out in the road. My recollection had been bad, but now I know we couldn’t have been, because we would have never wasted a shoulder as safe as that. We got into Uvalde about 2 hours later and were happy to see a Walmart. Andrew got his boxers and a screwdriver to adjust the deraillers. I got my iphone cable and quickly got it charged. We chatted with a nice older lady and her granddaughter a few minutes and got on our way. I called the Fort Springs campsite in Brackettville and a man told me we could arrive anytime before 10pm. As were were riding through town we passed the motel Aaron and I stayed at on the previous trip when I got transported to Uvalde by ambulance. As we rolled out of town the signs said the next town was Brackettville 43 miles away. At this point I unconsciously thought there would be gas stations or rest stops in between. The temperature was about 80 degrees and we filled up our Camelbaks before we left. We both started having some pain about 10 miles in. About 20 miles in we were both about out of water with still no signs of where to get some. At 25 miles in I was completely out of water and feeling very dehydrated. My lips were chapped before we even started the trip so I may have already been partially dehydrated. At 30 miles in I felt like I was close to a heat stroke and Andrew seemed about out of gas. Andrew pulled over and cooked an MRE for us. At this point I was ready to drink out of a creek, but a drop of water was nowhere to be found on the ground. I literally started praying for water. I thought I was seeing an oasis as a Sheriff was parked in the middle of nowhere ahead. We rolled up to him and he asked what we were up to. We told him the story and asked if he had any water. He gave us two bottles and told us there was a rest stop 5 miles ahead with a water faucet. We chugged the water and rolled on. We made it to the rest stop and there was no water. For the first time on this journey I literally thought I wouldn’t make it to the next town. Another blessing came about a mile later as the Sheriff pulled back up, said he had checked the rest stop, and also found out there was no water. He handed us two cold liters of water. In my mind they had been sent from heaven. My prayers had literally been answered. We pedaled on slowly to the next town and found a gas station that served hot food. We each ordered a footlong sub and piece of pizza. It was one of the best subs I had ever had, but of course that could have just been my hunger talking. We headed over to the campsite and the guard at the security gate told us the tent camping was about a mile back and he had already told the lady who runs it we were on our way. It was like a state park and very historical. They have a retirement community built into it, RV camping, and tent camping. When we pulled up the lady was waiting outside and started yelling at me for riding through the grass. I am not sure what grass she was talking about. All I saw was some brown dirt. When we got inside she said we were late. We said the security guard had told us we could come until 10pm and she said her rules are before 6pm. She charged us $20 to camp and told us the showers were cold water and there were no electrical hookups. I thought it was overpriced. We got the tents set up. I got an internet connection through my cell phone and checked messages on facebook. I left the rain cover off and star gazed through the mesh on the tent. The temperature dropped from 80 degrees to 40 degrees throughout the night. My off brand Field and Stream mummy sack kept me warm the entire night.

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