Stopped at: Open field before Rogers, TX Miles today: 50 Total: 170
Yesterday evening, I found an access to the Brazos River and went swimming. Twice.
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Every cyclist's concern was flat tires. After coming back from a swim, and packing up my gear, I noticed
the back tire flat. How could that be? Last night after deciding to stop here, the tire was fine. Examining the tire, the
piercing plant could have only come from taking the bike offroad to get down to the river. I suspected it was due to leaning
the bike against a tree among weeds. If the bike had a kickstand, that could have prevented a flat, but would introduce
another pound to carry.
Through the dirt roads, I made it out to a farm road with directions from a man who was probably looking over his property and
cows. Like yesterday, the morning started out well because of the cool weather. The farm road was short before it intersected
Highway 71 heading towards Milano and Austin. At that point, heading to Milano would be more westward than northward, and because
of the heat, I wanted to head north, but I was starving and wanted to get something to eat.
Before Milano was small town with a couple of restaurants and a general store. At the store I bought a 2-liter Dr. Pepper and a bag of
small donuts. Although unhealthy, a bag of donuts supplied a boatload of calories. When I went out to sit at the picnic table, one of the
two patrons, who appeared to be friends of the owners, came out and offered a bottle water from the truck. He said, "If you want another one, just
grab it out of the cooler from the back," as he went back into the store. Earlier he had heard me ask the owner if I could get water from the hose in the
back of the store, and he knew how awful hose water can taste. I couldn't drink all the soda, so I packed it to go in the water bottles. It was sweet
just thinking about having a pop on a hot day.
Outside of the small town on that lazy Sunday afternoon, I immediately veered onto another farm road heading north. The patch rear tire appeared a little
flat. I stopped next to a house, and after examination, it did lose some air, but still ridable. I hadn't repaired a flat in over a decade and this was
the first time using a glueless patch kit.
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The same ole story concerned the sun- finding shelter. I found refuge in a naked field recently cleaned away with only the
tall trees spared, for now. That meager field, except for a few patches and trees...it made me think about life and courage. Like company
layoffs, the animals were economized, and the ones living in the trees kept their jobs because they held the fortunate positions.
The animals that did survive would be forced to crowd into other territories. Some would cross the street to the other
side of the road. Was that courage? Walking blindly across the street where drivers made no or little effort to stop? Forcing a man, like an animal, to
play Russian Roulette, would we call that man courageous? And when the odds did catch up to him and he lies lifeless, only a shell of his existence left,
and we are indifferent, then what does that make us?
Or is courage simply taking a risk realizing there was no or very little threat to our own safety? Then all of us would be labeled courageous.
Earlier in the day, I had passed up a sign for a road leading to Cameron. Now after taking a longer route, I was just outside Cameron. When the long busy shoulderless
bridge awaited me, I was very concerned. Concerned not about the drivers necessarily because the single lane was just wide enough for a car and bicycle, but
worried about maintaining a straight line across the bridge so I don't lean into an oncoming vehicle.
It was a little scary, but I did make it. Most of the way, I just focused ahead like a drowning man whose one goal was reaching shore. The road
was shoulderless into the city, but it was double lane fortunately. Immediately, I stopped at the city park. A man, with a bicycle by his side,
was sitting slumped looking down towards the grass. No doubt, he must have been a local by the rough appearance of his bike. Obviously, something
troubled him, but I was just relieved to make it here, and left him be. Maybe I should have approached him and said something. There was a family, who's kids
were running around and hollering in the small cazebo area- they were in complete contrast to the burdened man.
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I decided to ride the back streets since the main street was shoulderless (at least the portion I rode earlier). I made about
10 miles before stopping at a puny town I probably even shouldn't call a town. The entrance of a closed restaurant was the only
good shade since Cameron. There was this large beautiful greyish brown spider walking around, and then there was this flying red and brown
insect which rubbed its front legs together like a common fly. I hadn't realized they were enemies, but just 2 insects living in the same
proximity.
The spider walked around like it didn't have a care in the world. Unlike it's much smaller relatives, it was too large to spin webbing, but
it was able to leap. Like the lion in an African setting, the spider was the king of
it's surrounding. Or so I assumed. The spider sealed its own faith when it started to climb the wall because it was no longer able
to leap, and if it tried, it would only fall to the ground. The flying insect was waiting for an opportunity to inject its venom. I watched the insect fly in circles
and then came close to enough to apply its tranquilizing poison. I was shocked when the spider, just moments earlier roaming freely, fell straight to the
ground.
Once the spider was frozen on the ground, the insect hopped immediately on top of it, applying more venom. Most likely the spider was still alive at the time
it fell. For some reason, it disgusted me to watch this, and I wanted to save the spider. As I came closer, the insect looked up at me and rubbed its legs together prepared to
take me on. It just didn't realize I was part of a species called man, and man was the enemy of all living things, regardless of how civil we can appear. For a brief moment, I wanted
to crush it, not knowing if there existed another spider like the one fallen. But I couldn't.
Waiting out the heat, I eventually made it to convience store to buy a couple of corn dogs and fuel. In a small town further ahead, I stopped at a church to reload on water
and possibly find a place to sleep. The town was so compact, there didn't seem to be any place to stealth camp. With relunctance and darkness arriving, I biked on and took a dirt road as
the red sun eased over the horizon. The dirt road eventually led to a field that had been prepped for some type of construction. The field was divided into
lots and I walked the bike to the end of one and found it perfect to set up a tent although there was a house nearby, but they wouldn't be able to see me in the darkness.
For some reason, the rear tire lost some air while riding on the dirt road. This is the second air lost today, so there must be something wrong. The tire
was pumped up before bed.
Every cyclist's concern was flat tires. After coming back from a swim, and packing up my gear, I noticed
the back tire flat. How could that be? Last night after deciding to stop here, the tire was fine. Examining the tire, the
piercing plant could have only come from taking the bike offroad to get down to the river. I suspected it was due to leaning
the bike against a tree among weeds. If the bike had a kickstand, that could have prevented a flat, but would introduce
another pound to carry.
The same ole story concerned the sun- finding shelter. I found refuge in a naked field recently cleaned away with only the
tall trees spared, for now. That meager field, except for a few patches and trees...it made me think about life and courage. Like company
layoffs, the animals were economized, and the ones living in the trees kept their jobs because they held the fortunate positions.
I decided to ride the back streets since the main street was shoulderless (at least the portion I rode earlier). I made about
10 miles before stopping at a puny town I probably even shouldn't call a town. The entrance of a closed restaurant was the only
good shade since Cameron. There was this large beautiful greyish brown spider walking around, and then there was this flying red and brown
insect which rubbed its front legs together like a common fly. I hadn't realized they were enemies, but just 2 insects living in the same
proximity.
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