Texas Trip Report #1

4:12 AM - The alarm goes off. I crawl out of bed, scrape a razor across my face and take a quick shower. Got to get to Barry's by 4:50. With Barry in the car we speed down to the airport for our 6:30 AM flight to San Antonio. We rush through parking, get our luggage tags and hustle to the gate only to find that our flight has been delayed. We meet up with Scott and head to Starbucks and then mill around waiting for an update on our flight. 40 minutes later than expected they make the announcement for pre-boarding. I know it's early but this gets Elvis thinking; can you really pre-board? It seems that you're either on the plane or you're not. Anyway, the plane takes off at last and after a quick stop in stormy Kansas City (Missouri, not Kansas) we finally get to Texas.

Scott used to live in San Antonio so he directs us to a great place for barbecue sandwiches. After that we head to our home base in Fredericksburg (about an hour northwest of San Antonio). Home for the week is a dumpy place called the Frontier Inn and RV Park. Note to self; treat with suspicion any boarding establishment that has the term "RV" prominent in their name. Barry says it's just the kind of place the pros frequented back in the day. Elvis says, "It's 2007 and I'm not a pro", but Barry ignores the comment. So we unload our gear, collect our bike boxes (which we shipped to the hotel earlier in the week) and begin assembly.

The wind is blowing at 20mph and it's raining. Weather notwithstanding we agree to head out for an easy shakedown cruise. One mile later Scott has a flat tire. Forty miles after that he'll have another one.

First of two flats for Scott on ride number one

There appear to be no easy routes anywhere near Fredricksburg. The town is located in a valley and every route out of town goes up. And up, and up and up. Toss the hills in with the wind, the rain and aggressive riders and easy is no where to be found. Yes, it was only 43 sloppy miles, but every mile was tough. After an early morning we made it an early night.

The town of Fredericksburg calls itself a town of beauty and charm. True enough if you like kitschy shopping. The town was founded by German immigrants 150 years ago and for whatever reason downtown still remains full of places called Rathskeller, Biergarten and Der Lindenbaum. This lends itself to week-ends full of pudgy tourists mindlessly milling around. And this gives rise to lots of yuppie coffee shops, art galleries and souvenir stores. To give you an idea of the amount of traffic in and around Fredericksburg I'll simply point out that it is the most popular tourist destination in Texas, and the 11th most popular tourist destination in the United States.

You'll also find here, 1,000 miles away from the Pacific Ocean, the National Museum of the Pacific War. Why? Because Fleet Admiral Chester Nimitz of WWII fame was born in Fredricksburg. Fair enough.


Day two dawned just like day one; windy and drizzly. The hills were still here too. Not to be deterred, off we went first thing in the morning for a planned 75 miler. We decided to head into the wind on the outbound leg so that we'd get a bit of a break at the end of the ride. In some stretches where the hilltops were completely exposed to the wind the conditions were atrocious. Even the down-hills were difficult due to the swirling winds. There is not much traffic outside of town but every vehicle that we met (white, 4-door pick-up with huge brush bars on front and towing one or two trailers), we seemed to meet at one of the many one-lane bridges that are found at the bottom of the steepest hills. Maintaining control of your bike while squeezing the brakes and skidding on wet pavement at 30 mph rolling headlong into a huge pickup truck makes for some real excitement. With the exception of one good ol' boy who rolled down his window to yell the following suggestion, "Why don't y'all boys go to Austin and ride on f'ing I-35", most drivers seemed courteous enough.

At about 25 miles Barry's drive-train started acting up and upon a quick inspection it was discovered that one of the links on his chain was coming apart. We decided to head back to town but only made a few miles before the chain broke. Thanks to a handy little tool that Scott had along and an ingenious repair by Barry, we were soon back on the road.

Chain of Fools

The roads here are the kind that can leave your hands, butt and teeth numb. The lack of cold winters means that they can press gravel into the tar and leave it at that. All of the gravel is raised slightly above the tar and the result is a constant road buzz transmitted through the bike and into your body. Did I mention that it's hilly? On today's route we went over a climb called Bat Cave Summit, three times. This is rated by CycleTexas as "Beyond Category", meaning that it's off the scale for rating climbs. Here is it's official description, "One of the harder climbs in the Fredericksburg vicinity. Steepness exceeds length here, but that makes the length long enough for most". Indeed.

At one of the mountaintops there was a small look-out platform. So we stopped to take pictures (OK, for a breather).

Nowhere to go but down

Every mile or so there was an animal carcass either in the ditch or even right on the road. On top of the carcass would be a dozen vultures picking away at it. Some of the deceased we could identify; deer, armadillos, cats, opossum. And some we couldn't. What do you suppose this once was (see photo, below)?

A lot of four-letter words come to mind. 'Dead' works best.

Back at the hotel we cleaned up and then headed into town for lunch and a stop at the local bike shop for repair materiel.

By mid-afternoon we were ready for another ride so that we could get our miles in. Saddled up we once again agreed to take it easy. The wind and hills were staring us down and easy went out the window. The rain had stopped so we finally had an opportunity to get some action shots.

Don't let the smile fool you



Is Barry pushing or is Scott pulling?

I wish I could show you the profile for today's 72 miles. The best we can figure by looking at the local route maps, we climbed over 5,200 feet. That's a mile straight up. Ouch!

Back at the hotel we did a load of laundry and then headed back into town for dinner. Tacos and Dairy Queen. Now that's living!

The remains of the day