Day 28 Navasota, TX to Shepherd, TX

June 6

Navasota, TX to Shepherd, TX

84.5 Miles
2910 ft of climbing

Map:


http://www.mapitpronto.com/index.cfm?fuseAction=routePlanner.viewDBRide&rideID=1834 (cont.)


http://www.mapitpronto.com/index.cfm?fuseAction=routePlanner.viewDBRide&rideID=1835 (partial)


Happy birthday to Papa John, Grandpa, and tomorrow (June 7) to Chris.

Second, some really special people are posting comments and we thank you. I however, being the bonehead I sometimes am, didn't realize I had to check the blog for comments. I figured that out just a couple of days ago. I thought comments were also e-mailed to me. Every comment is precious to us and I read them all to Chris and introduce him to those of you he hasn't met.

On to our day.

It was a great day to ride. We have yet to meet anyone who would agree. Ninety eight degrees and eighty eight percent humidity. Fluids in, fluids out.

Breakfast in the hotel is definitely the quickest getaway. Cereal, banana, eggs, and a biscuit. Perfect with OJ. Oh, and coffee of course.

We rode into a great pine forest of Sam Houston National Forest soon after we started. If there was wind we'd never know it. Very dense stands of pine that apparently go on for a hundred miles. II think it may be part of what's called "The Big Thicket".

The road was good but without shoulders. That can be a bit unnerving. Most drivers coming from behind moved completely over into the oncoming traffic lane. I will ALWAYS do that for touring cyclists in the future. I wouldn't expect that kind of exaggerated courtesy on a road bike but the touring bikes are anything but nimble and I will be forever cognizant of that in the future.

I was aware I had broken yet another spoke about a mile after we started but couldn't bear to stop. We felt great and the riding was glorious.

We came to a railroad crossing just as the train was coming and I took the opportunity to evaluate my rear wheel. It was a driveside spoke this time. A bit more significant because they are more highly tensioned than the opposite side. I needed a one inch wrench to turn the special tool which I had picked up at Bike Den in Glendale. I hadn't had a chance to get the wrench. The special tool lets you remove the gear cluster which covers access to the driveside spokes (you should really remove the cassette to reach spokes on either side but I've been lazy about that).

We had twenty three miles
to go. I slacked the brake so it wouldn't drag with the rim wobble and off we went.

We got to New Waverly and rode right up to the busiest and possibly only lunch restaurant in town. It was cafeteria style but very efficient and very good. Pork chops, mashed potato, cornbread casserole, pinto beans, a salad, yes salad, and a slice of pie. All really good and for seven bucks.

I ate big knowing we were churning out the watts and we weren't sure about dinner options. It was rolling hills all day but none of them with any sting. We finally averaged over fifteen miles per hour again. It would be closer to nineteen miles per hour on a seventeen pound bike.

Something I look forward to is letting Chris ride my beloved and semi retired Lemond Maillot Jeune while I ride my Seven up some New Mexico mountains.

After lunch, on the way out of town, we found an auto parts store and I picked up a wrench. The spoke was pretty quick work and off we went.

It was very damp and we rode through occasional light showers and over quite a bit of blacktop that was very wet from cloudbursts just ahead of us. This went on for thirty miles. The further in front of us the rain got, the more steam rose as the pavement heated. It was the coolest sight and when we'd ride through a cloud of steam it felt five degrees hotter.

We made our way to Lake Livingston, which looked huge on the map, and through Coldspring. We got to Shepherd and were presented a conundrum. Fifty more miles to a place to stay and likely no open services in between or stop feeling good at eighty five miles. We'd have to deal with dinner too.

As we cooled down and drank up at the gas station a number of cars came and went. It was just after five and we figured everyone was getting off of work on a Friday night.

A beat up car limped up and killed the engine, or rather the engine died. A fellow got out of the back seat and gave us a friendly hello on his way inside the store. There were three little boys left in the car and a woman behind the wheel. One of the boys started talking to us right away. His brothers listened and started asking their own questions. The lady driving joined in. They were very pleasant and inquisitive. We told them what we were doing and how we were raising money for Lance Armstrong Foundation. I kept it light and upbeat with the boys. When the man came out (dad I think) he handed me three dollars and pointed to the driver (his mother I think) and said, "she wants you to take that, she wants to help". I said, "that's not necessary, are you sure?" she leaned over and said, "it's not much at all but I want to help". Three dollars meant something to these people. I am certain that's true. What can you think but god bless these people?

It is speaking to each other in the common language of an evolved humanity.

Compassion.

We decided to stop for the night. We're at nineteen hundred miles and I can begin to see the finish. Eleven hundred to go but barring injury or mishap, I think we're likely to finish. We're both really conscious of savoring it.

We found a motel (the motel) and asked about dinner spots. The woman at the front desk recommended a couple of places and I have to admit I was concentrating more on food than what she was saying.

We rode down the highway as she had directed and we stopped at the first place we saw. Sally's Diner. Only after sitting down and ordering drinks did I realize we were in the wrong place. We were recommended to Happy Days Diner. In an illustrated dictionary Sally's would be an ideal candidate for greasy spoon. Emphasis on greasy.

I actually proposed to Chris that we pay for our drinks and leave. We decided to order burgers.

As we finished our dinner, a couple sat down next to us (father and daughter I think) and then a man by himself sat at the next table over. It sometimes takes a woman or a child to establish contact but the men are fast to follow.

We ended up shooting the breeze for another twenty minutes with the three of them. It was really great conversation. Living in the most egocentric part of Southern California for ten years I have become accustomed to people who prefer the sound of their own voice to having a conversation. I don't think conversation is a lost practice. All participants just have to enjoy listening.

We returned to the motel and enjoyed some Shiner Bock.

My big heroes today are Simon (Chris's brother) and Ashleigh and Justin. They are driving to California as we speak to bring my camper trailer home. It was in the driveway of our California house which closes escrow Monday.

Thank you guys!

More adventures tomorrow.