Day Twenty-Six
By design, a short riding day today, so a short post. Then I’m signing off for three days. Probably. At about noon today I hit the half way point of the trip. Then I begin my scheduled long recovery, celebrating Minavet’s wedding and enjoying the company of her family and friends. Joan’s flying in too.
Metro America in many ways feels like one, massive, integrated urban landscape, with long stretches of exurbia and ruralness between the city centers. It would be very easy to think of our built communities not as things or places, but as a neural network, with nuclei, dendrites and axons acting as downtowns, suburbs and the transportation system. It helps me appreciate that just because every town may have the same commercial businesses and standardized infrastructure, the real life of each community, the people and the lives they lead, are each unique. The structure is ubiquitous, but the information being created—lives being lived—is always different from place to place.
I’m thinking this as I ride along Austin’s excellent bicycling paths and lanes, which are basically identical to the Los Angeles bike system, or the Phoenix bike system, or what I now think I can expect to find in any city in America. Ironically, I feel safer, even anticipated, on a bike in a city, and in truly rural country, than in the exurbs, which are places that have more traffic than they are designed for, yet are outside the purview, and probably budgets, of true transportation planners. Getting to Austin from Johnson City was the most hair raising day of the trip so far, from a traffic perspective. Too many people driving too fast on roads not designed for the load. But in Austin, and today to the east of Austin, towards Bastrop, has much better roads, built for multiple users including cyclists. So even though traffic volumes are high, my stress is low.
I’m a day ahead and as I mentioned, rather than sit around doing nothing, I pressed ahead beyond San Antonio and Austin to Bastrop, banking about 100 miles. Easy riding. I cross the other Colorado River that flows through Bastrop. It turns out, by American standards, Bastrop is ancient, having been founded in 1832. “Historic” downtown Bastrop is a great place to finish the first half of the trip. I finish the day’s ride at 33.97 miles, and the first half of my transcontinental ride at 1,608.81 miles. That’s what the computer says. Can I just call it 1,609?
I rent my car, get the bike and gear stowed, and drive to San Antonio. It’s still a work day, and I’m off to find a new and more robust, rear tire, a bigger tire pump, one that doesn’t need 500 strokes every time I need to fill a tube, and more Honey Stinger Waffles, my new favorite food for every occasion.
To date my daily cycle wear has been a long sleeve base layer and a safety vest. That shirt is now a rag, and in the southern humidity, I am sweltering in just a light shirt with a mesh safety vest over the top. I will trade in the rag and the vest for a high visibility cycling jersey. I also need to find a small boating air horn to be ready for the free ranging dogs that have been the bane of so many cyclists who are heading west. I was chased for the first time today, but the dog lost interest before catching me. I hear that in Louisiana, the dogs take their jobs more seriously and I can expect some committed chasers.
But now I have three days of celebrating, socializing, eating, cleaning bike gear, but other wise not being a bicyclist. On Tuesday I continue east into the Gulf Coast South, where it’s flat and I’ll be more fit and rested than I have been in probably 30 years. I’ll be chewing up the road in big daily bites for the next 1,600 miles.
I’d love to hear from you. Donate to the ride and send along your words of encouragement and tell me why getting kids outside matters to you.
