I'm genuinely struggling to think of adjectives to describe the day. I was brutal, violent and extremely tough. It's been the toughest day's cycling of the trip and, it is no exaggeration to say, it's been one of the thoughest days of my life.
The plan was to ride from Sanderson to Del Rio on the Mexican border. 120 miles through the desert with only 2 hamlets/villages with very limited services to break up the journey (amazingly this is the only realistic cycling option to get East at this time of year, that does not involve the Rockies or completely unsupported desert). I had that much clear in my mind, and set off 30 mins before sunrise to make the most of the day, however the reality was horrific.
The ride was a rollercoaster ride through canyons and river beds, with endless grim climbs. The roads were the worst I've travelled on, and littered with debris on the shoulders. The 5-10 mile tailwind, promised by the Weather guys, was instead a 15-20 headwind that gusted all day, making it a struggle to hit even 10mph downhill, and led me to walk up the final 10 hills. And then their was the heat. It was always going to be hot in these parts, but at 103F in the shade it was well above 110F on the tarmac for a good 5 hours of the day, even the locals deem this heat wave extreme. Throw in a puncture on my front tyre and the fact much of the scenery was ugly dry shrubs and you have, to make use of a hack cliche, a "perfect storm."
It was a horror show from start to finish, and for the first time on the trip I've not made my original planned destination. I'm 30 miles short of Del Rio in the rusty little village of Comstock, which whilst ugly, dust strewn, and shabby, has the friendliest locals I've yet encountered.
In fact the day one saving grace was the people I met. The day was broken up by a visit to the ramshackled petrol station at Langtry, a village of almost impossible remoteness and harshness, where thank goodness, my puncture occurred. Inside the owner called Mike and hit mate, whose name I never got, provided the good light relief. Over the best BBQ sandwich I've had to date, they entertained me with their rather glib local safety advice, and because I'm British I guess, their unsolicited views of the royal wedding, which consisted of some well thought out, if very crude views on Middleton's anatomy, as opposed to flowers or Westminster Abbey.
I'm very glad today is over, it's put me back a day, but finally see the light at the end of the tunnel on the desert portion. From tomorrow or Friday I should start to pull into the more populated farming country, and I can not wait, even if the wind is set to blow straight in my face till at least Monday.
Route - Sanderson - Langtry - Comstock
Breakfast - 2 Egg tacos - Stripes petrol station. It was the only choice in town, and the only food available at 06:30. Disgusting and greasy.Lunch - BBQ Sandwich - Mike's Gas Station in Langtry. A complete surprise. In a dark broken down little room, a man and his mates serving up fantastic food in the middle of nowhere.
Snacks - 2 Cliff bars. One in the morning, one to get me through the last 10 miles.
Supper - Cheese Burger. J&J Holley's place. Literally the only place to eat in this village, and burger was the only choice available. A smokey bar in a trailer, where 2 large bottomed ladies were holding court over the only cafe or watering hole in town. To a person everyone was friendly in there, and the burger is not going to win prizes, but it was edible.
