Deep in the heart of Texas

We've had an eventful 2 days of riding. Yesterday, we had steady 30mph winds all day. The route curved in various directions, so we had to fight crosswinds, and occasionally a head wind. That made the day as much of a mental challenge as a physical one, because you always had to be focused on handling the bike and not getting blown off the road. 109 miles of that was tough, even though the wind helped more often than not.

Today we had 96 miles of riding with almost no wind most of the day. Very pleasant. Two milestones - we left New Mexico and crossed into Texas, and we entered the Central time zone. I think it's cool that we traversed an entire time zone by bicycle. 20 miles after the Texas border, we passed two enormous cattle feed lots. The first was 1.5 miles long and stretched back from the road at least 1/2 mile. Every inch had cattle on it. Then we passed this Cargill facility.
It's tough to see, but all those dark spots behind the railroad track are cattle. Zillions of them. I don't think I want to know what goes on in the buildings in the background. The smell was interesting. I ate a Cliff bar while riding past, just to see if I could do it without vomiting. I was successful. Another major accomplishment on this trip.

A few miles after the cattle lots, we entered Dalhart, Texas, our home for the night. Rick, one of our support crew and a native Texan, probably put it best. He said if God gave Texas an enema, he would insert the hose in Dalhart. If I lived here, I would be like other Texans and buy a gun. However, I would only use it to shoot myself. This is one nasty town.

Here I am with Greg, Ty and Roy.
We would know this was the welcome to Texas sign even if it didn't say so, and even if it wasn't shaped like Texas. The chunks missing from the sign are because people shoot at it. If they don't have a gun, they throw beer bottles at it, as evidenced by all the brown broken glass at the base. Yee ha! Ty (in red) is a native Texan, so it didn't bother him to be sitting on broken glass.

There was another milestone yesterday. We descended the Canadian Escarpment.

After spending most of the past two weeks at elevations between 5000 and 7500 feet, we descended the escarpment to about 4000 feet elevation. That marks our departure from the high Western lands. We're now flatlanders for the duration. The basin we're riding in now was once a sea. The top of the escarpment was the shore.

My good friend Bonnie left a really nice comment on my last post, and asked how many women were on the trip. There are six in the current group, and three in the group going all the way across the country. Bonnie and others have been very encouraging and complementary about how they are impressed by me doing this trip. Don't be. The folks you should be impressed by are some of my fellow riders. Colin is 70 and Jan turned 66 a few days ago. Janie and LaVern are grandparents doing the trip on a tandem. In fact, of the group going all the way, I'm the third youngest. Roy the Rocket, my coffee and riding partner, hammered out the first 30 miles with me a few days ago at an average speed of 22.8mph. He's 66. Those folks are my heroes.