B & B BASTROP & BUDA

On Tuesday 10-19-10, we left Bastrop at 8:30 on Hwy 71/21 that took us to FR20, a narrow, hilly, ribbon of pavement that was prowled by big trucks. At mile 10 we stopped at a roadside store where we met Mike who was wearing a Texas longhorn ballcap. Mike likes maps and knew the roads in this area very well. He suggested we take FR812 to Hwy 21. 812 was great-quiet, smooth, and truck free. It passed mostly scrub land with small modest homesteads. Some had a few head of cattle, others had chickens. while a few had a collection of appliances and old cars that stopped working years ago. On Hwy 21 we encountered high speed traffic with about every 3rd vehicle being a big truck. However, we enjoyed a wide clean shoulder until we crossed the Caldwell/Hays county line. When you creep up a long curvy steep hill loaded with 40+ pounds, your bike can sometimes wobble a bit. On one of the hills, there was NO wobble room. So we pushed our bikes to the top using them as shields between us and a steady stream of trucks. We have concluded Texas surely has more trucks than Baptists and that is alot of trucks! While on 21, we saw a multitude of sunflowers and patches of prickly pear. We also saw a scissor-tail flycatcher which is one of our favorite birds. The big blue Texas sky was almost hidden by large white clouds that gave us some shelter from the afternoon sun, but were no doubt, somewhat responsible for our headwind. While taking a 10 minute break before heading into Buda, a nice guy pulled up and gave us 2 "country" pears. The kindness of the people we meet in this state is encouraging.

B & B BURTON & BASTROP

Washington House at Knittel Inn - Home was moved to the property and reconstructed
Knittel Inn
Roundtop

It would be a shot of the actual river, but it was a narrow bridge with no shoulder, sorry!


On Monday 10-18-10, breakfast at the Knittel Inn in Burton was great as was visiting with owners Carmen & Steve. This couple has made the property a showcase for design, hospitality & elegance. The original house was built by a Prussian immigrant (Knittel) who fought in the Confederate Army and became a successful merchant/politician after the Civil War. A number of German immigrants settled in this area and there exists, even today, stories about their lives. One example is about a German shoe cobbler who lived in Burton repairing shoes & leather tack. He worked 6 days a week. He earned the respect of the town because he never charged for repairing the shoes of children. There are so many small pieces of history being preserved in the area. Carmen said that shortly after they moved here, she heard a commotion outside and upon investigation, saw a parade with horses and all go past their house. The unique thing about the parade was that the participants were all African-American. When she sought an explanation, she learned that the local plantation owners did not immediately inform their slaves about the Emancipation Proclamation. They wanted to break the news after the slaves had harvested the cotton crop. The parade was to celebrate the local date of emancipation that is somewhat later than the rest of the country. Our ride today started in a dense fog until we reached the community of Roundtop, population 77. For such a tiny place there are a number of neat old historic buildings still in use as cafes and shops. We visited the worlds "smallest" Catholic Church, St. Michaels. Near LaGrange, we crossed the Colorado River where cattle drives from Texas to New Orleans would forge. We took Hwy 71 to Bastrop where we found a bike shop. Ann's bike had developed an annoying clicking sound we could not get resolved. It also stumped John, the bike mechanic. We were like 3 monkeys trying to figure out how to open a bottle of coke. We finally lucked upon a pedal adjustment and all is again smooth & quiet. The excitement of the day was a deer darting in front of Ann as she was tucked, zooming downhill. The best sign we saw read, "Fat people are harder to kidnap" All the more reason for us to eat this great Tex-Mex food we can't seem to resist.

PLANTATION ROCK

Sunday, 10-17-10, it took us 8 1/2 hours to ride 45 miles. Was it the increased number of hills we are now encountering? That is a factor, but not totally. Was it the headwind that kicked up in the afternoon? It may have slowed us a little but not that much. Was it the friendly people in Southeast Texas? YES! That is what did it. It started at breakfast when we met 3 nice people who were "costumed up" for a nearby Renaissance Festival. We so enjoyed talking to Tim, Amy, and Nikko that we started a little later than planned. Tim & Amy offered future assistance, if needed, and we are hoping we might have a chance to cross paths again. We left Navasota on 105 and crossed the Brazos River. The terrain then became hilly, one climb following another. This will be the case for the next 280+ miles as we climb toward the convoluted Texas Hill Country. Gone are the days of the lovely flatlands. As we topped the hills, we enjoyed panoramic views to faint ridgelines on the horizon. This is vast, open country. There are both huge ranch homes peeking over clusters of trees from behind elaborate gates as well as abandoned little homes tucked away in the weeds & wildflowers. The latter make you wonder about the people who lived there and what became of their hopes, dreams, & aspirations. We came upon the beautiful Hatfield Plantation Home that was built by slave labor in 1853. As we were photographing the place from the road, Ben Beauchamp (pronounced Beecham) pulled up and invited us on the property. Ben is a retired attorney from Houston who has a nice retreat in the woods nearby. He checks on the plantation for the owners. We toured the magnificent home where one of the unique features was plaster casts of the hands of the slave that supervised the construction. heard about the other structures on the property, and met Waylon & Willie, the 20 year old Percheron draft horses who ate out of our hands. When we left, Ben gave us an alternate route on Gaskamp Road that would take us by his place. When we arrived there, he had cold orange juice for us and an invite to come sit on his deck. Ben was very likely a good litigator since he held our attention with his wonderful stories. He invited us to stay for spaghetti, but there are only so many hours of daylight! Our next stop was at the Weiss Store. It was a store at one time, but now serves as the monthly meeting place for the oldest rifle club in the State of Texas. What a great group of people. They offered food, beverage, and enjoyable information about the area. Hit bullseyes y'all! The free beer was not enough to numb our butts for the remaining hills to Burton. However, we were refreshed as soon as we arrived at Knittle Inn and were greeted by Carmen & Steve. They served us salad & pizza for dinner and promised breakfast the next morning. Before bed, we listened to Elvis sing Plantation Rock. Sweet Dreams!

NavaSOta Rest

Our previous rest day in Baton Rouge we failed to truly rest. We wanted to do better in Navasota on Saturday (10-16) and we did! We rode to town but it was only about 3 miles. Norb cleaned the bikes. We both got hair cuts, read, went to the pool, perused the ever-present maps, had route discussions, and watched the 4th quarter of the Mizzou football game against Texas A & M. Lovely day of rest after 8 consecutive days of riding.

BILL IS THE MAN

On Friday, 10-15-10, we left our motel rather late since the bike shop in Conroe did not open until 9:30. The owner, Bill, had arranged to have some tubes overnighted for us. We had an enjoyable time visiting with him and taking in all the memorabilia in his shop. At 11:15, the UPS gal showed up with the needed tubes. We also had the opportunity to visit with Angie, a nurse, who was in the shop to buy the yellow Trek she has been eyeing and saving for. Boy was she excited and we were excited for her. Ride like the wind Angie!! We continued our day riding on the shoulder of busy Hwy 105 toward Navasota, Texas. We stopped by the blue waters of Lake Conroe to eat our bagel and apples for a 20 minute break from traffic noise. As we continued west, the scenery was reminiscent of Missouri - pastureland with hedgerows and large round bales of hay. As we entered the city limits of Montgomery, a sign proudly announced it was the birthplace of the Texas flag. West of Montgomery, we experienced a series of long but gradual rolling hills. A slight breeze blew toward us from the west beneath a cloudless sky. We passed several large cattle ranches with four-board wooden fences that seemed to stretch for miles. Several of them had elaborate stone entrances with huge wrought iron gates. Ann set a blistering pace all day so we could reach Navasota and start relaxing for our rest day tomorrow. Although we contended with much traffic noise, we were chased by ZERO dogs today. Serendipitously, twenty-nine miles away Mizzou will play Texas A & M at College Station tomorrow. Go Tigers!

DON'T bELIEVE ALL THOSE LIES

We know we are in Texas now!

Thursday 10-14-10. Today we rode from Kountze to Conroe Texas, 81 miles, our longest day yet. We had 2 options for riding today. One was to stay on the Adventure Cycling route that promised narrow, rough roads infested with logging trucks and questionable lodging. We opted to go off route and take Hwy 105 to Conroe, since it has a bike shop and we need tubes for Ann's bike. We called the sheriff's office to inquire about traffic on 105 and whether or not the road had shoulders. The sheriff's office told us we should contact the Texas DOT, who referred us to the Dept. of Public Safety. Evidently the agencies who patrol and patch the highway did not have the information we needed. Public Safety said they would have someone call us. A nice guy did call. Although he tried to be helpful, he did not know if the highway had shoulders. He did recall it had alot of traffic. He stated it had been years since he had driven that far west. Well, we need tubes since Ann's spares are patched, as is the tube in her rear wheel. She is now affectionately referred to as "PATCHES". We took 105 hoping for shoulders. We had great ones for 50 miles and stopped for lunch in Cleveland at the new Fish Tales restaurant. A group of locals told us 105 to Conroe had no shoulders-was dangerous with lots of truck traffic-and offered alternate routes that may have taken us all night. We stayed on 105 and, lo and behold, we biked nice shoulders all the way. As the song says, "Don't believe all those lies, Darlin' just believe your eyes"

THE BIG THICKET

Wednesday, 10-13-10. When we left our motel in Kirbyville, a man drove up in a pickup truck, hopped out, and asked if he could approach us. Once permission was granted, he began ranting about all kinds of conspiratorial things including a horrible murder that had transpired in the very motel where we spent the night. Schizophrenia is, without doubt, a terrible illness that can trick ones mind to be fearful of almost everyone and everything. We said goodbye to our friend and headed west on US96 where ten miles outside the small town of Buna we cycled past a tiny section of Big Thicket National Preserve. The Thicket is so named because it is extremely thick and brushy with undergrowth that forms a nearly impenetrable jungle. It once covered more than 1 million acres. Big Thicket became a refuge for service-dodging Texans hunted by the Confederate Army, who became known as bushwhackers, a term which survives today. It was an enjoyable day of riding to Kountze TX beneath a blue sky with temperatures in the low 80's.

THE EYES OF TEXAS

Two Welcome Signs as Texas constitutes over 1,000 miles of our trip



Post Ride Yoga - No Shower Until We Have Stretched
Kirbyville Gateway Motel

Tuesday, 10-12-10. By 8am the clouds remaining from a thunder storm last night began breaking up, allowing some sunshine. We had previously ignored a warning from Adventure Cycling about avoiding rush hour. Since it was again advised for this section, we checked email. Our friend Anne Cox in Springfield sent us an article from MSNBC that had a photo of us meeting with Roger Grooters along the road. The headline read, "Mourners Pay Tribute to Charity Cyclist Killed in Crash." We met Roger and his wife Vicki who was driving a support vehicle for their cross-country journey to raise money for Gulf Coast Oil Spill Victims. They impressed us as being a generous couple and offered to place our blog site on his. Three days after we met them, Roger was struck by a pickup truck only 300 miles from completing his ride across the Southern Tier. Our hearts are heavy. You can visit his site at rogerxcountry.blogspot.com. Our thoughts today were with his family and we hope the memories they hold of him will help them deal with this tragedy. As we took to the road, Hwy 190 had nice wide shoulders separating us from the big logging trucks. We passed large stands of pine trees that seem to be grown for a nearby paper mill and a plant that manufactures plywood. At mile 23, we crossed the Sabine River and entered Texas, state #5 and definitely the largest of our 8 state odyssey. We turned onto Farm Road 363 which was much quieter. It had no shoulder, but the logging trucks were respectful of the small space we occupied near the white line. We arrived in Kirbyville, TX as the gray clouds overhead began connecting, promising rain before days end. This town was settled in 1894 at the foot of what became known as the "Scrapping Valley." The name derived from a feud between two local families during the 1870's that resulted in lots of shootings. Local citizens asked the Texas Rangers to stop the feud. Unfortunately the feud did not end peacefully. It ended with a pitched gun battle between the feuding families and the Rangers, who reportedly reduced the number of family members by an even dozen. Again, thanks to all who are supporting us from afar. It means alot to know you are there. Peace.

WINDING DOWN STATE #4

Monday, 10-11-10, we leave the Oberlin Inn on a hazy morning. The road is smooth with moderate traffic. The pine trees are mixed with oaks & maples that are starting to show fall colors. Clumps of yellow wildflowers bloom along the road. By 11 am, dark clouds begin banking up to the west and south, but don't concern us much as we are only 2 hours from our destination of DeRitter, Louisiana. Many of the signs now inform us we are in Creole country. Our research indicates Creoles are of Spanish/French ancestry, primarily from Louisiana. As this is a fairly short day, we have time to relax and enjoy a lazy afternoon. Despite slathering ourselves with great sunblock provided by daughter Sylena, we are browner and more freckled than either of us have ever been. No doubt, two examples that would be horror stories for the American College of Dermatology. If weather permits, tomorrow we will be "Leaving Louisiana In The Broad Daylight".

LISTEN TO THE MOCKINGBIRD

After breakfast, we are ready to go before 9:00, but get delayed chatting with Paul Bienvenue. ("welcome" in French) He lost 120 lbs. by starting to ride his bicycle and is now doing triathalons. He and his wife were here for his 20th high school reunion and seemed to have a blast. Paul reminded us of friend Steve Edwards in appearance and Steve also likes to do ultra events. We biked through the quiet Sunday morning streets of Opelouasas and stopped at the courthouse to snap photos of fiddle-art that lined the front lawn. The artwork represents the history this town has with Zydeco music and also features some of the local things that grow around here such as yams and yellow catfish. We rode SR104 to Hwy 26 toward Oberlin, a town with 1400 people and one motel, The Oberlin Inn. We encountered some rough pavement on 104 and a slight headwind. We didn't however, encounter a constant parade of big trucks blasting past us. It was great riding on roads quiet enough to again hear the songs of mockingbirds. We cycled past rice fields, some speckled with crawfish traps. Whenever the fields are flooded, the water forces the crawfish into the traps that subsequently deliver them somewhere for great cajun gumbo. Yesterday, while crossing the bridge that spans the wide and muddy Atchafalaya River, a sign stated "Welcome to the heart of cajun country" Some of the people we have met have spoken with a hint of the interesting cajun dialect. At mile 25, we stop at Piggly Wiggly in Manou for some apples and had a great time joking around with a trio of locals who could not believe we wanted to ride our bikes to California. We ate our apples on the porch of Frenchies Restaurant, which was closed for the day. We passed over small muddy creeks that no doubt snaked their way to hidden bayous. A highlight of the day was riding past a stoic red hawk perched on a wire. The excitement of the day was Ann outrunning a determined 3-legged dog that ambushed her. We had no idea a 3-legged dog could run that fast. Thankfully we saw our only big truck of the day on Hwy 26 as we were borrowing the shade of a big oak tree at a roadside farm. The only place open on Sunday evening to eat was a casino 10 miles south of Oberlin that provided a free shuttle. Although the food was good, the noise and crowds of people were overwhelming. We celebrated hitting the 1,000 mile mark today.