For 5 miles odd I was hard up against the fence, and underneath the bridges that link the two cities. I rather scuttled through, and only took one photo unsure what the rules were. It's safe to say it's not pretty (I'm yet to find a land border that is, even the India-Pakistan one in the Punjab with it's high camp competitive military drills every evening, is dull, functional and dusty in the day), but I'm glad to have seen it up close.
The rest of El Paso was decent enough. Clearly the council has shoved most of the industrial stuff right next to the border, but there's a strange appeal to those kind of areas. All very Sopranos opening credits. My main focus however was the road. The promised headwind seemed to have been stifled, the surfaces were great, and I was flying along well above 15mph. Feeling bullish I decided to change my plans on the hoof, and aim for 125 mile run to Van Horn for the day over the 95 to Sierra Blanca. As a result, I have discovered a new rule of desert riding; do not change you plans last minute.Since the shake up North of Palm Springs I've been obsessive about planning my routes daily, with a special focus on where I can get water and where I'll sleep for the night. Today was no exception. It being Saturday however most places were closed early doors, and the two final petrol stations I had on my planned route, both turned out to be out of business.
The rather dull farmland ran out fairly early on, and I was back out in hard desert ranching country, on isolated farm roads, and then the parallel road to the I-10 freeway for the bulk of the day. The headwind suddenly whipped up around 10:00, and the "reasonable" slope I faced towards the end of the 95 miles, turned out to be a 15 mile relentless climb, not steep but relentless. I was also in the wind shadow in the heat of the afternoon. It must've been well above 100F in the sun.As I was pushing it harder than planned, I was flying through the water supplies, I was now unable to top up. In a sweaty mess somewhere half way up the 15 hill I realised I was not only not going to make the more distant Van Horn, and of more immediate concern was starting to run worryingly low on water.
As always with these more unnerving situations the juxtaposition is so odd. You are being battered around my the wind in the desert, feeling your legs get heavier, and you're head get lighter, and yet 300 metres away you can see signs off the freeway for "picnic areas." If you're in a car round here you just get no feeling for quite how wild it is, quite so close. I rationed myself to water to every 30 mins, and started to walk up the steeper areas, to conserve energy and to my great annoyance. To my surprise however, I was eventually saved by the federal government. I stumbled across a border patrol car staking out a mini van in the bush. The guy couldn't have been nicer and handed over a bottle of water without the blinking, and went back to his stake out.
Slightly unnerved by the whole experience I headed off the road at 18:00 into Sierra Blanca, and in a funny way I'm glad I did. This town is pure film set. Clearly there was once a big plan for a highway and railway town here, but for what ever reason it died, and almost everything on the strip is closed. With no rain to rot anything, the whole town is slowly bleaching and weathering in the wind. In the light of a West Texas sunset it had a unique derelict beauty. The motel is basic, and supper was in the only restaurant in town: a cluttered BBQ joint by the truck stop. The BBQ sandwich was superb, and the other customers could not have been politer or friendlier. A trucker, an old boy in a stetson (which never came off), his wife and their mid-aged son. The son worked for Shell and I got chatting to him first, but then the old boy decided he'd test me on some Rodeo terms. By chance I'd been to the Western Stock Show in Denver in January and well that was it. He was thrilled, and from there on in wanted to advise me on everything he could about my trip through West Texas. There was no question on leaving the restaurant that I was expected to shake everyone's hand, and I headed off into the dusk more than happy with the whole experience.
The only annoying part of getting only to here is it puts my plans back a day. Tomorrow will be a very short 30 miler to Van Horn; but today has taught me that it is really not worth taking on the next 75 miles of unsupported riding later in the day, in these conditions. Will use the day in Van Horn to prep for a pre-dawn set off on Monday, and read up more on the local fires that have been raging. The weather channel scaremongering on TV is unhelpful (even if their website is great), but I just want to get some local input.
 |
| Inside Curley's |
Route - El Paso - Fabens - Fort Hancock - Sierra Blanca
Breakfast - Cherrios, bagels and peanut butter, and juice at the hotel
Lunch - Peanut Cliff bar. Was planning to eat at one of the closed petrol stations, so this was my lot.
Supper - BBQ sandwich and onion rings, the owner insisted I have too, even though I'm not a big fan. Curley's BBQ, Sierra Blanca. If you are ever in the area, go. It is not polished, but is the most authentic place I've eaten in years. The real deal.
