No where in all the glowing online reviews for the Marathon Hotel and RV Park was there mention of the train tracks on the other side of the road from the establishment. Equally left out was the tendency of the trains to blast their signal horns as they passed; at 1:45 am, 3:00 am, 3:15 am, and 6:00 am. Any speculation as to the breakfast topic this morning?
Today's ride was fantastic. Partially cloudy, not overly hot, empty road, and best of all, a tailwind. I loved the vastness of the prairie around me. I could've ridden hours longer, I was so in tune with my surroundings. The silence, when I stopped to eat or take a picture, was almost deafening. Awesome!
I've also discovered there are times I prefer to ride alone, at my own pace, following my own whims as to when to stop for food or photo. It can be quite liberating. There's plenty of time for socializing at the end of the day.
It can be quite disturbing to have a buzzard circle overhead as one pedals down the road; perhaps it knows something I don't? When the one multiplied ten-fold, I became a very cautious rider. As any good detective-story character will tell you, there's no such thing as a coincidence.
It was about that time I received a bit of a shock. Suddenly, the silence around me was broken by the sound of an onrushing vehicle. A big vehicle. There was nothing in my mirror, and the road ahead was empty. I quickly checked the railroad tracks. Nada, and the sound grew louder. By this time I was weaving across the lane. The noise crescendoed directly above me, and quickly faded away. I managed to catch a glimpse of the fighter jet as it curled away in the distance. About this time, the buzzards disappeared. Maybe they were hoping for a better outcome than transpired; like Canadian road-kill?
Anyhow, I made it safely to Sanderson, another small Texas town that seems on the brink of extinction. The sign at the edge of town heralds Sanderson as the Cactus Capital of Texas. Next to it is another, smaller sign that reads, "For Sale". That pretty much says it all.
We're staying in a grungy little motel; beats camping in this heat. Tomorrow we'll head to a state park at Seminole Canyon, 81 miles away. If these conditions persist, it'll be a great ride. Fingers crossed.
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