Hey ya'll, from Van Horn, Tex-Ass.
So, we thought we had it bad in the mountains of New Mexico, where they grow their grasshoppers to the size of mice. Yup, they're big and blue and nasty and are ready to take on the world...they would fly at us from all angles as we innocently biked uphill, trying to knock us off our saddles so they could enjoy a nice tasty dinner. Either that or they took one look at kt's Babe in all his shining blue glory, and it was love at first sight. Anyway, the roads were a war zone there for a while with mass carnage as a result; Lola was a death machine and we biked to the sweet music of 'crunch, crunch' beneath our wheels. Still, we made it through.
But now we're in Texas, and working on our 8th flat tire in 5 days. Six of them have been Mine, and I lay the blame for all of them at the feet of this state. Slowly making our way out of New Mexico, the clouds decended, birdsong ceased and all joy was snuffed out of the world. El Paso lay ahead of us, lurking just out of reach as we followed the road along the edge of the state, beckoning to us with long fingers of smog. Flat tire right there on the border, ensuring that we crossed into El Paso in darkness, right through the chemical treatment part of town. (We stopped to switch maps at the first turnoff; a big 'DO NOT ENTER' sign lay ironically in front of us. 'twas lovely). Biking through acid rain the next day kt had an explosive flat in the middle of a monster puddle (the concept of drainage has yet to reach this state), and then another one 2 miles later. Rescue came in the form of Mike, a 4-foot tall man who pulled up on a kiddie bike, offering to take us to a nearby bike shop to buy some new tubes. Mike led the way, fearless in the face on oncoming traffic, lollypop in mouth and cell phone firmly attached to his ear, while we, like overbalanced ducklings, followed frantically in his wake. Let me tell you, there's nothing like facing a rampaging 18-wheeler head on a shoulderless stretch of road. (Mike's excuse when I told him he's lucky to be alive, the way he bikes..."man, you have to be able to SEE the traffic"...and there was something in that, as the second we crossed back to the right side of the street the car horns started blaring away again). Anyway, I had two flats the next day, then one flat the next, and then two yesterday, the 2nd coming just as the sun was setting over the windy plains and I-10; being totally out of tubes and patchless, we walked our bikes for 2 miles down the dark, freezing highway and stopped at the first hotel we passed.
Now we're just hanging out in the dead end town of Van Horn, waiting for help to arrive in the form of an overnight delivery of bike tubes and patch kits. The excitement of the day thus far has been the attack of a rabid one-eared Chihuaua as we, innocent tourists that we are, were out for a morning constitutional. The people are nice though; we're happy to be out of the meat market of El Paso. There cars would slow as they passed us on the road, listing to the side as all the passengers leaned out the windows to send leering glances and whistles our way. No, now we're into "How you doin', l'il lady" country....I'll take that over lascivious glances any day.
So that's it from Texas; hopefully we'll be back on the road soon and on our way to Del Rio. Hope you's all are well.
xoxo,
Sylvia
10/25/2002
So, we thought we had it bad in the mountains of New Mexico, where they grow their grasshoppers to the size of mice. Yup, they're big and blue and nasty and are ready to take on the world...they would fly at us from all angles as we innocently biked uphill, trying to knock us off our saddles so they could enjoy a nice tasty dinner. Either that or they took one look at kt's Babe in all his shining blue glory, and it was love at first sight. Anyway, the roads were a war zone there for a while with mass carnage as a result; Lola was a death machine and we biked to the sweet music of 'crunch, crunch' beneath our wheels. Still, we made it through.
But now we're in Texas, and working on our 8th flat tire in 5 days. Six of them have been Mine, and I lay the blame for all of them at the feet of this state. Slowly making our way out of New Mexico, the clouds decended, birdsong ceased and all joy was snuffed out of the world. El Paso lay ahead of us, lurking just out of reach as we followed the road along the edge of the state, beckoning to us with long fingers of smog. Flat tire right there on the border, ensuring that we crossed into El Paso in darkness, right through the chemical treatment part of town. (We stopped to switch maps at the first turnoff; a big 'DO NOT ENTER' sign lay ironically in front of us. 'twas lovely). Biking through acid rain the next day kt had an explosive flat in the middle of a monster puddle (the concept of drainage has yet to reach this state), and then another one 2 miles later. Rescue came in the form of Mike, a 4-foot tall man who pulled up on a kiddie bike, offering to take us to a nearby bike shop to buy some new tubes. Mike led the way, fearless in the face on oncoming traffic, lollypop in mouth and cell phone firmly attached to his ear, while we, like overbalanced ducklings, followed frantically in his wake. Let me tell you, there's nothing like facing a rampaging 18-wheeler head on a shoulderless stretch of road. (Mike's excuse when I told him he's lucky to be alive, the way he bikes..."man, you have to be able to SEE the traffic"...and there was something in that, as the second we crossed back to the right side of the street the car horns started blaring away again). Anyway, I had two flats the next day, then one flat the next, and then two yesterday, the 2nd coming just as the sun was setting over the windy plains and I-10; being totally out of tubes and patchless, we walked our bikes for 2 miles down the dark, freezing highway and stopped at the first hotel we passed.
Now we're just hanging out in the dead end town of Van Horn, waiting for help to arrive in the form of an overnight delivery of bike tubes and patch kits. The excitement of the day thus far has been the attack of a rabid one-eared Chihuaua as we, innocent tourists that we are, were out for a morning constitutional. The people are nice though; we're happy to be out of the meat market of El Paso. There cars would slow as they passed us on the road, listing to the side as all the passengers leaned out the windows to send leering glances and whistles our way. No, now we're into "How you doin', l'il lady" country....I'll take that over lascivious glances any day.
So that's it from Texas; hopefully we'll be back on the road soon and on our way to Del Rio. Hope you's all are well.
xoxo,
Sylvia
10/25/2002
