If you want to be a record breaker…. Del Rio to Langtry

For the first time on the Southern Tier we’ve been camping with other touring cyclists – Jay from Savannah, Georgia, riding the Southern Tier West – East,  and Lloyd Collier and Louis Snellgrove, two doctors from the UK, now living and practising in Australia.  To be fair, calling Lloyd and Louis touring cyclists is rather doing them a disservice,  since they are attempting to take the world record for the fastest circumnavigation of the globe on a tandem. 

We met them first thing this morning as we were on our way out of Del Rio. After leaving the motel, we’d popped into a Walmart to pick up some orange sachets in an attempt to make the water in our bottles taste tolerably drinkable and there they were,  sitting astride a blue Dawes Galaxy tandem and in Lloyd’s case looking more beard than man. 

The duo, who it turns out are based in Queensland, had begun their challenge in Adelaide and were raising funds for Spinal Research and the Brain Foundation. Their inspiration had come from Lloyd’s uncle Alun, who had sustained a spinal cord injury which had put him in a wheelchair at just 29, the same age as Lloyd was now.  The tandem record, they explained, stood at 290 days and they were now 14,000 miles in, with around 4,000 to go. Once they reached the Pacific they planned to fly to New Zealand and then back to their start point in Adelaide. 

The rules were straightforward – they had to cover 18,000 miles minimum, keep travelling west and passiung through a pair of points antipodal to each other – ie so a straight line connecting the two would effectively pass through the Earth’s centre. In their case they had ticked off Madrid in Spain and its antipode would be Wellington in New Zealand.

“As we waved them goodbye we realised we were unlikely to see them again, them being would-be record breakers and we being two old duffers twice their age”.

They were in incredibly good spirits, full of fun and certainly seemed determined to enjoy themselves along the way. Unless they encountered a major hiccup they were on target to gain a place in the Guinness Book of Records. It made our little jaunt seem like a joy ride and as we waved them goodbye we realised we were unlikely to see them again, them being would-be record breakers and we being two old duffers twice their age. We rode on in awe. 

Today’s riding proved spectacular. Think ‘No Country for Old Men’ territory. Indeed Del Rio was where much of the film was shot and the landscape surrounding the city make it classic western country. Films such ‘Arrowhead’ from 1951 and starring Charlton Heston, ‘Two Rode Together’ from 1961 featuring James Stewart and John Wayne’s ‘The Alamo’ (1960) were all shot around here. Del Rio itself is only six miles from the Mexican border, although the infamous Battle of the Alamo took place in what is now modern day St Antonio some 150 miles east. 

Riding our trusty steeds north west, Terry and I soon found ourselves in the Amistad National Recreation Area and crossing the Amistad Reservoir, created on the Del Rio River by the Amistad Dam in 1969. As we cycled across, the Southern Pacific Railroad bridge was to our left and beyond that, the Mexican border. Best of all we had a monstrous tailwind behind us which made the cycling a delight – at one point I looked down and we were averaging 17mph – with packs on!  Later in the day I reached an incredible 36mph – it seemed we were finally going in the right direction.

Going over the reservoir we could see the vegetation changing … probably due to the presence of water.  It was much more colourful with the brush in flower and the bluebonnets now being replaced by wild verbenas and White Prickly Poppies. (If we are beginning to sound like travelling botanists then you’ve got Terry to thank for that – as well as becoming an expert on fauna he’s fast becoming a dab hand at identifying the flora). 

Stopping for coffee at a gas station about five miles out of Rio we met Phillip. Only in America can you meet someone just by holding a door open and leave half an hour later knowing every detail of their past, present and possible future relationships. In the UK revealing that kind of detail, even to close friends, can take decades.

“I’m the oldest fattest pool man in America,” he smiled.  Fascinated by our ride, 56-year-old Phillip explained his daughter was in Britian with the US Air Force at Mildenhall, monitoring and translating Arabic. He was keen to talk about Brexit, Trump, his son’s track event (which was where he was headed that morning) but most of all love. A divorced father of nine, three months ago he’d made contact and found love again with a woman he’d known back in eighth grade in school. 

“After tackling the subject of love we moved onto the more sensitive subject of politics”.

“Can you see the sparkle in my eye?” he asked as he showed us photos of his sweetheart on his phone. We could. 

After tackling the subject of love we moved onto the more sensitive subject of politics, but Phillip was keen to talk. Living close to the border he was concerned about people coming across from Mexico and said there was a need for a hard border in some places. He agreed with Trump’s policies in certain areas, but felt that the rights of Mexicans already living in the US should be protected.  He was yet another warm hearted, genuinely friendly person that we’ve met so many of on the Southern Tier.

Climbing up towards Comstock the scrub returned – only more sparse  –  and the height of the brush became lower as the landscape became more arid. A few goats, fewer sheep and even fewer cows dotted the enormous ranches as it got more and more remote. Just before we got into town we went through our first border control check area. For the first time since flying into Orlando we were asked for our passports – although how many Mexicans try to get into the country wearing lycra and sitting astride fully loaded touring bikes is anyone’s guess. 

After 30 miles or so into today’s ride we climbed a hill and discovered Comstock itself. When I say discovered, obviously that had taken place some years before – 1883 in fact when the Galveston, Harrisburg and San Antonio Railway had driven west through here on its way to El Paso. The mystery was why anyone had decided to hang around. 

It really did feel like we’d arrived in a different world. The wind howled around the mostly derelict buildings and it felt like you’d reached some abandoned frontier outpost on the edge of nowhere. It certainly didn’t take too much imagination to picture a western being filmed here. We half expected the Duke to appear in the middle of the street and challenge us to a duel – bicycle pumps at dawn!

It looked like every business in town had closed up shop many years before,  so imagine our surprise when we went into the tiny gas station to find Cooter, a one year old Eclectus parrot and his owner Wanda waiting to serve us. “He’s learning to say a few words,” she explained as Cooter, who had been bought in Austin, whistled and clucked before climbing up onto Wanda’s shoulder. It was a scene right out of a movie.

We ate lunch tucked up on a step at the side of the store taking shelter from the wind and then headed downhill, passing Lloyd and Louis’ tandem propped up outside a restaurant which, incredibly, was also open. Having already eaten and with the heat building, we decided to head on, figuring that they’d be shooting past us pretty soon. 

Leaving Comstock the feeling of remoteness was enforced as we passed a sign reading ‘Next Services 88 miles’. Certainly there was no chance of supplies at the next gas station we passed. Lying derelict, the twisted remains of its canopy looked like they been knocked over and shaken about in some weather-related tantrum. 

Continuing to ride on through the Seminole Canyon, we took a slip road off the 90 for spectacular views of the Pecos River Gorge and the impressive bridge which spans it. Looking south west, high cliffs and canyon walls marked the channel of the Pecos River, with now just a mile or so to go before it reached the mighty Rio Grande and the Mexican border. 

The water level was so low that in some places grass and scrub had begun to claim the river bed and it was hard to believe these waters could have carved such an impressive landscape. But a history of the bridges across the Pecos told a different story. 

The Southern Pacific Railroad built the first high bridge in 1891 with the first road traffic bridge built a mile downstream in 1923. Just fifty feet above the water this had been destroyed by floods in 1954. Two temporary low water bridges built in 1954 and 1955 were also destroyed by floodwaters before some bright spark thought it was high time they paid attention to the old adage: “If you want to do something, do it well”. In 1957 a new 1,310ft long bridge was built 273 feet above the river – the highest highway bridge in Texas. 

Crossing the bridge we were now officially in the wild west. The Pecos River was the last major hurdle for the Southern Pacific Railroad and, as if to reinforce the fact,  two incredibly long freight trains rumbled across the valley.  Half a mile east of Langtry we crossed Eagle Nest Creek, before arriving in town to a scene that was right out of a movie – abandoned buildings, barking dogs and a metal sign swinging noisily on its hinges in the blowing wind. It was so stereotypical we half expected to see a film crew adding the finishing touches.

As usual everything was shut, except the Roy Bean Visitor Centre dedicated to the notorious justice of the peace and saloon keeper, who dispensed his own brand of self-styled homespun justice here known as ‘The Law West of the Pecos’. Making up the law as he saw fit, legend has it that a new book of legal statutes were sent to Bean every year or so, but he used them to light fires with.

According to an information board at the museum, the judge preferred instead to call on his own ideas, delivered with bluff and bluster. Court was often held on his porch with spectators grouped about on horseback. Occasionally he would break off proceedings to serve customers in his saloon, which was also part of his courtroom-home.

Since the town had no jail, all offences were met with fines which Bean then pocketed. Drunken prisoners were often chained to mesquite trees at the front of the building until they sobered up enough to stand trial. 

Langry itself was established in 1881 for workers on the Galveston, Harrisburg and San Antonio Railroad and there are two versions of how Langtry got its name. The first certainly fits a familiar formula, being named after a civil engineer who worked on the railroad, but the second has far more romance and a real wild west feel to it. 

His one stop shop saloon, billiard hall and courtroom was called the ‘Jersey Lilly’.

The story goes that Bean named the lawless tent-city after his idol, the English actress, Lillie Langtry. His one stop shop saloon, billiard hall and courtroom was called the ‘Jersey Lilly’ and it’s said Bean would often sit up late at night writing letters to Langtry, although he never met the star with her only visit to the Texas town being in 1904, less than a year after he died.  

What she made of the place is anybody’s guess. Today the smart, brightly painted museum, seems to be the only reason anyone would visit. Coincidentally Terry’s local pub is called the Lillie Langtry,  although he assures me, drunks are not tied up to lamp-posts on the Unthank Road. At least not anymore.

Our heads full of history we found out from the musuem guide there was a possibility the store at the gas station a mile back towards the 90 might be open, so we jumped back on our bikes and got there just before it was about to close. On our way there we passed a touring cyclist coming into Langtry, but he seemed reluctant to stop so we ploughed on. The selection, to say the least, was limited, but it was enough. 

We contemplated wild camping, but a few things put us off – finding a suitable spot which was both out of the wind – and not on the rocks – avoiding border patrols and snakes.  After seeing a photo of a two meter long rattlesnake caught in Marathon last year (one of the two largest ever found in the US) we decided to check out what was available back in town. 

The near abandoned RV park, surrounded by barking dogs and ‘Trump 2020’ posters seemed like a poor choice so we headed down to the Vashti Skiles Community Center where we were told we could camp for free – and it even had a cold water tap! 

Already there putting up his tent was the cyclist we’d spotted earlier, who unlike us had been battling a headwind all day which was probably the reason he’d hardly acknowledged us on the road – hour upon hour of constant battling can really destroy the spirit. 

At first he still seemed reluctant to talk, but soon opened up – he was Jay, aged 60 from Savannah in Georgia and was undertaking his first long distance bike ride. Divorced and having spent, in his words,  a few years couch surfing, he’d come upon cycle touring later in life and was determined to see as much as had could before ‘decrepitude kicks in’. He also seemed to be in need of a good woman and wanted to know all about cycle touring in Europe. 

Jay turned out to be interesting, friendly and intensely curious about Brexit, politics and the state of the world, particularly the environment. Shortly afterwards Louis and Lloyd turned up. They had sat in the restaurant in Comstock downing a few beers and expecting us to call in. Wrongly we’d assumed that being potential record-breakers, they be desperate to push on as quickly as possible. Turn out if you are fit and young and riding a tandem you can have plenty of breaks – and beers – and still remain on target!

“We went to bed way too late, but without doubt it was one of the best days yet”.

Keen to spend their first night camping with other cyclists in 14,000 miles, they’d slowed down sufficiently to spend the night in Langtry with us, so we had five cyclists in all, cooking laughing and telling stories. It was exactly what these long distance adventures should be about and it was fascinating hearing of their record attempting ride, being held at knifepoint in Mongolia, police escorts in Greece, being hit by a lorry barely 20 miles from the start in Australia and even a crash in India. We also watched a video of their journey so far – just amazing. 

We were so pleased they wanted to spend time with us. They also had a flag from every country so we took a photo with the five of us in front of the Stars and Stripes. We went to bed way too late, but without doubt it was one of the best days yet.

Today’s miles: 61.93

Total miles since Anastasia State Park: 1702.39