Day 38-39, A Symphony in 3 Movements

Day 39, 59 miles, Vernon to Childress, TX
Day 38, 57 miles, Wichita Falls to Vernon, TX

I’m hearing music here amid the Texas panhandle. In my head, that is. Majestic melodies, weaving harmonies, underlying cross-rhythms that provide a soundtrack to these sweeping, infinite vistas.

I’m always hearing music, always have. But way out here where the road leads you mesmerizingly straight ahead and where the horizon is so distant you can see the earth’s curve, the score is more insistent, closer to the surface. I miss my baby grand, and though I can’t play music at the moment, I can still write about it.

Yesterday was like a symphony. Three distinct parts, plus a coda today.

Pedaling Texas, a Symphony in Three Movements
Movement I: Alone

There was a torrential downpour all through the night, with thunder and lightning. So Day 38 of my 70-day xUS bike trip began wet. The streets out of Wichita Falls were puddled and streaked with last night’s rain. The morning air was cool as I wended my way out of town onto an endless succession of what they call farm roads here. These are back country lanes that get quite remote the further you ride out of town.

After about an hour riding along one such road, seeing no cars or people, I stopped for a drink and found myself quite alone. It was delightful.

The only sign of people on these roads are the occasional ranch gates and fences that announce this is someone’s property.

That and a few cows and horses every now and then, such as this family.

I could ride these empty, isolated ranch roads all day. But alas, it had to end, with…

Movement II: Mud

There are times when you should heed nav lady’s advice, and times when you should not. I seem to guess wrong every time. On Day 38, when she instructed me to “turn left” off the beautifully paved, winding ranch road I was on, I should have ignored her.

I slowed and looked at the road she was leading me onto with raised eyebrows. Mud. Lots of it.

But this is an adventure, right? Not a time to shy away from daunting pathways that may hold wonders. This one didn’t.

I regretted taking this road. At first it seemed passable, if messy. But after about a quarter mile in, it turned into a serious misjudgment as my tires sunk into the wet mud and frequently threatened to remain there, leaving me stranded. Me and True – that is what I’ve named my bike – struggled for mile after mile, slipping and sliding, nearly toppling over into the endless mud puddles.

It might have been beautiful scenery out there so far from everything in mid-Texas. But I didn’t notice, I was too focused on getting through the next ten feet upright.

For six miles, we struggled through the mud, wearing a good share of it by now. But True and I gritted our teeth and finally pushed through to paved Highway 25. I apologized to True, flicked off some mud cakes, and we silently made our way onto the pavement, agreeing never to speak about this ordeal again.

Nav lady is on probation. I’ll be considering her advice closely from now on.

Movement III: Speed

Miles of mud remained fresh on my mind as Highway 25 led me to State Route 287W, an interstate-like highway, four lanes with a median, and a wide, smooth shoulder.

As I turned due west toward Vernon, I felt a push at my back. Wind, finally, moving in the same direction as me. I shifted up and quickly hit a fast cadence. I shifted up again, and again. For the next hour, I cruised along at 20 mph, happily covering the distance into town in an abbreviated timeframe.

The first place I went in Vernon? The DIY car wash. I couldn’t wait to wash all that mud off my bike. True seemed happier after the shower, too.

Before:

After:

Coda: Day 39, Patience

After an uneventful night in Vernon, we hit the road at 9 a.m. on Day 39, with temperatures forecast in the upper 90s for the afternoon. Time to move.

Unfortunately, this morning’s headwind made movement slow.

Riding into a headwind for hours on a road that doesn’t bend requires patience. Patience to go slow, to relax, to breathe, and to work with the wind. Take what it gives you, no more.

That has also become my main Rule of the Road. Take what the road gives you, no more. Solitude. Mud. Speed. Wind. It’s all a masterpiece symphony.