Recently, I have discovered postcards.
I've discovered how easy and cheap they are to buy, write, and mail. So I bought a bunch of them, and a bunch of stamps, and with my single, trusty black pen, I'm gonna fill them in and send them to you.
Today I finished early, and in the extra time I had in the afternoon, I started thinking about the rest of the ride more seriously. I looked in greater detail at maps and the path ahead. There's some scary things I'm going to have to think a lot about on the short, medium, and long term.
On the very short term, there's a storm coming tomorrow. I guess I've somewhat learned how to deal with storms, but it's still a scary prospect, as I am getting into areas that are less and less densely populated. There is very little shelter from the storm around here. There are few clusters of trees, and the large forests of the days before Dallas are no longer there. On the other hand, in the following days, it's supposed to be cloudy, and rainless, which is perfect biking weather to cover large distances.
On the medium timescale, my bike is starting to need maintenance. Small things, like the grip tape coming loose, and the GPS starting to look like it might be nearing its end. I haven't had a flat in a while, and by the gambler's fallacy, I should get one soon. On the other hand, my legs are still working well. I'm not mentally exhausted, and the timeline is not too bad.
The long scale problems are the scariest. In two days, I will be hitting a 50km stretch of road with nothing on it. In a few weeks, these stretches will grow to 120km, and eventually, in Utah, to 160km with no humans, gas stations, and spotty cell reception. These stretches follow small country roads, riddled with ghost towns, hills, and desert, and frankly, they are terrifying, and dangerous. The only reason Google suggests these routes is to avoid the interstate highways at all costs. Now, in terms of bicycle safety, the interstate is oftentimes as safe, if not safer than other highways, due to the standardized thick shoulder, rumble strips, and the well-paved road. On the other hand, it's the interstate, where cars drive faster. On the third hand, in some states it is illegal for bicycles to ride on interstate highways. On the fourth hand, the freeways are boring, in that they are "biking in order to get somewhere, and nothing else." Look, I've got lots of hands, just don't worry about it.
In Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Idaho, and Oregon, which are the states I will be biking in for the rest of this trip, it is legal for bicycles to use the interstate highways. This, coupled with the internal monologue and conflicts I've outlined in the last paragraph means that I will probably be starting to bike on interstate highways once I get to the desert. The funny thing is that the highway I biked on all day today, highway 287, has been in all senses but the name, an interstate highway. There were no driveways, all exits were controlled exits, and the shoulders were wide and made for good biking. I guess the only difference was that the asphalt on the 287 highway was raggedy and bumpy.
I'm a visitor here in Texas, and my impressions of Texas mainly come from a day in Dallas, the view from the road, and many gas stations. Yet, coloured by previous bias, I really can feel that Texas is a state with a strong identity, and its own pride. Texas is to the US as the US is to Canada when it comes to nationalistic identity. In some ways, Texas feels like a microcosm of American pride, nationalism, and scale.
It starts with the symbology. Every housing development, every gas station, every souvenir, has some form of the Texas flag on it, in addition to, or in place of, the American stars and stripes. The five-point star can be found on license plates, logos, billboards, and even as a design on fences and ranch entrances. It's no coincidence that Texas is also often called "The Lone Star State."
Then comes the factoids. Everyone in Texas just loves Texas facts. Did you know that Texas is the second largest state? By area and by population! Did you know that Texas is the second largest economy? Did you know that Texas has the fourth largest city in the US? Did you know that Texas has the highest oil production in the US? Texas comes in second place a lot, but each time, a different state comes in first, so in a sense, adding everything up, Texas comes in first place overall. But it's not just factoids, it's also the phrases that pop up everywhere. "Don't mess with Texas," or "100% Texas, 100% American," or the thousands of posters, post-cards, lawnchairs, and other tchotchke I see everywhere that have cowboy quotes, or stories about the farm, cattle, dogs, or guns.
The people are different too, but measureably. In the other states I've visited, there are regions which overlap state lines. The Florida panhandle is more similar to Alabama than it is to Miami beach. Texas also has its internal variety, but everywhere I go, there's a kind of awareness of the rest of Texas, and a bit less of an awareness of things outside of Texas. This is less pronounced near the borders of other states, but because so much of Texas is in the center of Texas (this is not a tautology, and it does not follow just from size, it's a statement about population distribution), it seems like Texas is what a lot of people know. I've also been told, and I finally saw it in real life, that rural Texans dress in a way other than anyone else in the US.
I was sitting on a rocking chair outside a gas station in Henrietta, TX, eating fresh fudge and enjoying the weather, when a large white truck pulls up into a gas pump. From the passenger seat, comes a girl, with long blonde hair, and a spring to her step, as the driver-side door opened up. A man wearing boots, jeans, a big oval belt-buckle, a crisp white button-shirt, sunglasses, and the most stereotypical beige cowboy hat I've ever seen walks out. He pulls up his jeans with one hand, and starts pumping the gas. His gait is stiff, his back straight, as he and his lady walk towards the door. He opens the door for her to let her in, and follows inside. Minutes later, he walks out with two sodas, the couple climbs back into the truck, and they leave. I wish I had taken a picture, but I really think a quick image search would provide an identical picture.
The side of the road is also distinctive. Everywhere I've been, private property is lightly fenced all the way up to the ditch. The farms are large, square, and marked with large arcs with metal letters, spelling out the name of the property. There's considerably more dogs here, too, and they chase me a lot more than in other states. There's barbecue, Mexican food, and burgers everywhere, and no more Waffle Houses. The main crop here is cattle.
Now, of course, all of these things happen in other states. If you could quantify all of these, Texas might not be number one in all of them, or even number two. But in each of these, Texas is beaten by a different state, so overall, Texas might just be number one.
Today I biked 95km, over the course of 5 hours.