A Friendly Wind

looking west, 10 miles east of Marfa,
after crossing mountain

Five o’clock in the morning, full moon high in the west over Alpine, Texas.  Twenty-five degrees-F, wind calm.  I wear every bit of warm clothing the bike has carried all these miles, including three pairs of socks, ski mask, sweat-band over my nose, thick gloves, jacket, rain jacket as a windbreaker.  I close the motel room door and start pedaling west—destination, Van Horn, one hundred miles.

looking east before sunrise,
10 miles east of Marfa

I usually don’t start before seven when there’s enough dawn to avoid using the lights.  But making it to Van Horn today depends on one thing, as far as I can predict the things such rides depend on.  I depends on the wind.  If wind performs according to forecast, I should have tailwind after twenty miles, so I set out to do twenty miles in moonlight.

There would be a breakfast stop at Marfa, after crossing a small range of desert mountains, one-fourth of the distance to Van Horn.  My fingers and toes were numb when I locked the the bike to a post in front of Stripes convenience store.  Customers looked at the strange creature, all bundled up, in their store, stripping off layers.  But Stripes has good food and a table and coffee, and I answered some of their questions.  I stayed there long enough to get warm and for the day to warm, and for the most gratifying thing of allto happen—wind began to rise from the southeast, just as the forecast said.

Even less vegetation sprouts from this part of the desert than on previous days, less objects to slow the unrelenting wind.  Ininhabited only by huge ranches, unfarmed, sand so sparsely watered and permeable that even the deep roots of mesquite keep out.

Wind increased to a steady gale of about 20mph.  That would have stopped me had it come headon. But from behind, I rode at 20mph feeling no wind, except when it occasionally shifted for a few minutes.  I rode with less effort than I had on a previous day at 4mph in headwind.

The miles rolled on easily.  Open space gave way occasionally to an isolated oddity.  The US Air Force, Tethered Aerostat Radar Site, whose primary mission is surveillance along the southwest border of the United States.  This helium balloon can rise to 15,000 feet while tethered by a cable. 

Valentine, Texas

Valentine Post Office

I came to the dying town of Valentine where 217 people still live live, and where hundreds come on Vaslentine’s Day.  They want their love notes postmarked “Valentine, Texas.”

Miles of road like this with a pleasant tailwind.  I arrived in Van Horn last evening, happy for what I have, and happy for all the good wishes many of you have sent.

easier it is

with the wind

to pedal one hundred miles

than thirty

against it

How good and how pleasant  it is to pedal 100 miles on a day like today, through a small portion of the great open expanse of the Southwest.

Please note that I have added a link to Michael Angerman’s Map of my journey at the top of the blog.