No One Said It’d Be Easy

If things really happen in threes then hopefully tomorrow things will settle back down to the way things were before my week in Cuba. My first day on the bike after Cuba was cut short by rain. My second day went well until I got booted out of what I thought was a perfectly good camping location. And that brings us to my third day after Cuba.

It was a very comfortable night at the Studio 6 motel. Sadly, there was no continental breakfast waiting for me this morning. Needless to say I didn’t go to the Flying J for breakfast. Or anything else for that matter. Instead, I headed over to the local Subway for breakfast (and lunch to go). Both courtesy of Geoff (from Balboa Island).

Much like yesterday, I didn’t have a concrete destination to reach today but I figured my day would likely end in ether Welsh or Jennings. Either way, today would be my final day in Texas. It’s a bit hard to believe that I spent 24 days in the Lone Star State!

Again, like yesterday, I opted not to follow Google’s route. Instead, I once again followed Highway 90 and Interstate 10. And yes, there were a couple of times where I was actually on the Interstate. I’m not sure if I was SUPPOSED to be on the Interstate but it’s not like that’s stopped me before.

The upside to riding on the Interstate is it’s a very direct route and generally has a very wide shoulder. The latter is particularly nice as the traffic zooms by at speeds in excess of 75 mph. The downside to the Interstate is that it tends to be very loud as the traffic zooms by at speeds in excess of 75 mph. And then there are times when construction or other obstacles make the Interstate more than a little unpleasant. Today was one of those times.

My ride along Interstate 10 was going well for a while but, as I neared the Louisiana border, the shoulder started to become covered with more and more debris. Gravel, rocks, dirt, branches, broken glass, fragments from blown tires. It was pretty unpleasant. For obvious reasons, I really didn’t want to swerve off the shoulder and into the flow of traffic. Then again, for equally obvious reasons, perhaps I shouldn’t have been on the Interstate! It was a bit late for that though.

The Interstate got worse as I found myself facing a long stretch of concrete barriers that were essentially in the middle of the shoulder. Clearly, I only had two choices. Ride to the left of the barrier (and in the flow of the traffic travelling at speeds in excess of 75 mph). Or, ride to the right of the barrier. The latter would keep me safe from the traffic but I had no way of knowing if that part of the shoulder would suddenly end, leaving me nowhere to go. In such a situation, lifting my bike over the barrier would in no way be practical.

Against my better judgment I opted to stay to the right of the barrier. I’ve cycled (not entirely legally) with the flow of traffic on similar highways and it’s not the always the most enjoyable of experiences. Although, I probably enjoy it more than I should.

Sadly, about 800 metres later my concerns were realized when the shoulder disappeared into a ravine. Fortunately, I didn’t do the same. Instead, I was forced to turn around. I have to say, I really should’ve known better. I’ve been on the road long enough to know that the probability of that section of shoulder coming to an abrupt end was very high. Fortunately, I didn’t have to backtrack too much.

Also fortunate was the fact that I only had to ride with the flow of traffic for about 2 km and the traffic during that stretch was very considerate. Everyone left me ample room when zooming by at speeds still in excess of 75 mph. After that section, I only had to focus on the debris on the shoulder.

And to think all of that happened during my first hour on the road.

It was shortly after 10:30 when my ride through Texas officially came to an end. Goodbye Texas. Hello Louisiana. And about 20 minutes after entering Louisiana I was able to leave the Interstate and return to the less travelled Highway 90. Despite the lack of a shoulder on Highway 90, I very much enjoyed the quieter ride. What I didn’t enjoy was the construction.

I was in Louisiana for a little over an hour when the construction began. The construction in question was road resurfacing which meant I had the “pleasure” of riding on a roughed up road for about 10 km. On the upside, it wasn’t loose gravel. On the downside, it was a fully grooved surface the entire way – and those grooves are not particularly pleasant on a road bike.

It took about 45 minutes to get through that first bit of construction but it felt like it took longer than that. That said, I’ve cycled through worse. The second section of construction was much more pleasant – mainly because it was less “construction” and more “maintenance” based.

The maintenance being performed was on a rather long bridge and the result was a full lane closure. It was a lane closure for motorized vehicles anyway. For those of us not travelling by motorized vehicle, it was essentially a dedicated bicycle lane which made the crossing very easy compared to what would have otherwise been a narrow (and likely unpleasant) ride.

I cleared the bridge without incident and set my sights on Jennings. Welsh was still an option but Jennings was my preferred destination simply because there were more services available. That plan hit a bit a speed bump shortly after 3:00. Actually, it wasn’t so much a speed bump as another piece of metal that decided to puncture my not-so-puncture-proof tire. And so, for the first time on this trip I found myself on the side of the road fixing a flat tire. Unlike my previous two flats, there were no rest stops anywhere in the area. Also, unlike my previous flats, this time it was my front tire.

The repair went reasonably well until it came time to put the tire back on the rim. This proved to be more challenging than I would’ve liked. And yes, a small level of rage may have been invoked to finally force the tire back into place. The joy of finally doing so was short lived as it would seem I managed to create a pinch-flat in the process. Translation: I had to fix the tire a second time. At the time I believe I said something like, “Gee, how unfortunate.” … although, to the untrained ear it may have sounded more like, “@#$%%&^^&%!!!!”.

Adding to the pleasure of the whole tire-changing experience was the presence of the very aggressive (and large) Louisiana mosquitos. They seemed quite happy that I stopped to feed them. I was significantly less happy.

I eventually repaired the tire and was road-ready once again. There was now a new problem. Daylight. Best case scenario I was about 90 minutes from Jennings. In that same best case scenario I figured I had about 90 minutes of daylight left. I think the later calculation was based strictly on optimism. Spoiler Alert: The daylight calculation wasn’t accurate. At all.

By the time I arrived in Welsh the sun was essentially touching the horizon. Any hopes or thoughts of making it to Jennings in daylight would have been foolish. Clearly, I’m a fool. For reasons I really can’t explain, I decided to continue on and head to Jennings. I don’t know why. I think part of me actually thought I could make it before dark. Again, clearly I’m a fool.

So there I was, about 25 minutes from Jennings pedalling down the highway in the dark. Not just a little bit dark. But completely dark. The only thing between me and an unfortunate run in with a vehicle was my red flashing light on the back of my bicycle. And yet I kept pedalling. In my mind I think I really believed it wasn’t that dark. Clearly, I was in denial. I was also hungry. And tired. And thirsty. This really had the makings of a bad day. So finally I pulled over. Not to stop for the night but to at least address some of those issues. Namely, my hunger and the lack of bicycle illumination.

Moments later I was back on the road with a CLIF Bar in hand and my head lamp dangling from around my neck. Neither was ideal, but it was an improvement.

The fact that you’re reading this update is evidence that I reached Jennings successfully. I won’t lie, I was pretty happy when I arrived. I was even happier when I discovered a Wendy’s. After the way today’s ride ended I felt I was very deserving of a Frosty. A large Frosty.

The one thing I don’t like about Wendy’s is they frequently have their air conditioning set particularly low. This was again the case in Jennings. And maybe it was fatigue, or hunger, or dehydration, or the chill I was already feeling, but I felt especially sensitive to the temperature tonight. So much so that I was actually shivering. A lot. One might even say uncontrollably. A smarter person may have actually been concerned by the degree of shivering that I was experiencing. Seriously, in hindsight it was pretty severe. Actually, it was a bit severe without hindsight.

And so, for the third time in as many nights I decided that staying in a motel would be a prudent decision. I figured I really didn’t want to wake up dead tomorrow from hypothermia. Okay, I don’t know if you can get hypothermia when the temperature is 13 degrees celsius but I did know that I didn’t want to spend the night shivering in a sleeping bag. Not to mention, I had no idea where I could’ve camped anyway. Finding a motel was significantly easier.

My night ended at the Days Inn motel in Jennings, about 200 metres up the road from Wendy’s. It was a very welcome sight. I won’t lie, I was pretty happy when I finally entered my room. And the first thing I did upon entering my room was turn up the heat. Wonderful, glorious heat.

Today’s totals:
Distance travelled: 124.53 km
Ride time: 5:38:44
Average speed: 22.06 km/h
Maximum speed: 42.94 km/h