The Kraemers continued to astound us with their hospitality. We were awoken at 6am by the aroma of fresh coffee and outmeal porridge, home-made by David. It contained added fruit to fortify us for the Texan hills and was accompanied by a bevy of bagels to help us on our way.
Such lovely people, with a lo-tech life. David doesn’t have a phone or a computer and Susan has only recently got a cellphone, so she can subscribe to Warmshowers and book theatre tickets. Without a computer of any sort they were finding out about local events long after all the tickets had gone.
Susan had mentioned she would show us the way out of Austin as she fancied a quick spin – and to her credit she didn’t even wince when we said we needed to leave by 7am. True to her word she accompanied us as we rode out of the Austin bowl. Even for a Sunday morning the traffic was incredibly light and we whizzed through the city along near empty roads.
Cycling through the suburbs I was in my element discussing the curious assortment of housing. New domestic architecture in Austin is a great mix of traditional, referential and downright out there. The modern houses of all shapes, styles and materials are interspersed randomly between the original turn of the century wooden homes, like that owned by the Kraemers.
“The thought of that much goo and sugar at 8am made my teeth go on edge“.
Many of these traditional homes are now being lost to the modern usurpers and according to Susan and David and they don’t go down too well with the locals. I can see what they mean … right building, wrong place. What would be good would be a whole block of contemporary houses together. That could be impressive!
Somehow we ended up outside yesterday’s bun shop – Schlotzsky’s – I think Paul had had words with Susan. The thought of that much goo and sugar at what was now 8am made my teeth go on edge. No such effect on young Pauly. After being handed a fresh Cinnabon he promised not to eat it for 30 miles (fat chance) while Susan bought a further two for herself and David.
At Barton Springs we stopped to look at an enormous outdoor swimming pool, which at first I thought was a Lido, but which is heated by a spring and maintains a temperature of 68 degrees.
Then came some really stiff climbs out of the city, taking us past some very expensive homes, where the leaves from the live oaks are swept up neatly and put into bags to be taken away for compost. That’s if David and Susan don’t get there first, half-inch the bags back to downtown and mulch it for their delightful garden.
West Austin goes up. Then annoyingly down. Then back up, further. But the views were spectacular. Steep hills and valleys marked out by huge white water towers and smooth roads which even at this time of the morning had already attracted more road cyclists than we’d seen on the whole trip so far. We also met some tourers who were out for a ride into the Texas Hill Country. This was Lance Armstrong’s training ground and you can see why – it’s a superb terrain for cycling.
After around ten miles Susan left us and turned for home after and we were left to a superb descent, followed by a slow climb up into the hills that surround the city. On the outskirts it’s all expensive houses, Teslas, Porsches and golf courses. There’s no rubbish or litter anywhere.
In a marked contrast to the east side of town here it is much more arid, the landscape much more like southern Spain, although perhaps a little greener. Huge flying beetles click their wings noisily as they buzz past, butterflies flutter and occasionally we get a glimpse of an exotic bird, one like a yellow zebra finch, another with a long scissor tail.
The highs and lows were repeated for the next five miles until we broke through the skyline to see a wide vista of fields and trees … well below us! Once down, we bowled along empty English country lanes that had names, not numbers, and slowly climbed back up to the high limestone hills. Bee Cave and Dripping Springs came and went as we pedalled west through a mixture of cattle pasture, scrubland, an olive grove and the occasional vineyard.
The roads are steep but rewarding. It’s the best riding of the Southern Tier by a long chalk. Does it make up for all the awful roads we’ve experienced so far? I’m still sceptical and I’m keeping Plan B firmly in my back pocket which means I’m ready to head for the nearest international airport, which for a few days at least will remain Austin.
“I hate good weather and good roads – it confuses the arse out of me”.
As we rode through the stunning scenery Paul (who was distracting himself from the pain of the steep climbs by catching up on the results of the Australian Grand Prix through his headphones) said this was what he’d always imagined the Southern Tier would be. I’m not so sure, I hate good weather and good roads – it confuses the arse out of me.
Convinced I’ve left my spare pair of cycling shorts behind at the Kraemers I rang them on the phone to see if they’ve found them, only to later discover them in my pannier. Paul is looking at me oddly, I know what he’s thinking “This isn’t like Terry at all?”. And he’s right, it’s not. What if our roles are reversing and Paul’s becoming the organised one and I’m becoming… no I can’t even bear to think about it…
Texas is all owned. Everywhere is fenced off and ‘Posted’. It’s tricky even finding somewhere in the countryside to stop and eat lunch by the side of the road. Eventually we found a place that ticked all the boxes. We found an old lorry tyre squashed between the road and the 8ft deer fence and dragged into under the shade of a small tree (after first checking it for snakes, scorpions, spiders and dogs).
Perfect. Lunch was peanut butter on bagels, followed by whatever trailmix we could find, tepid water from our bottles and……… Cinnabon. Yes Paul had shown amazing resolve and resisted devouring it for an incredible 37 miles. Livin’ the dream!
Dream over we were back on the bikes and riding under a hot sun, although the downhills were still quite chilly. We were now cycling above and by the side of the Pedernales River which, because of the geology, was wide, shallow and clear. Numerous roadsigns saying ‘Road Subject to Flooding’ gave us a clue that flash flooding – even in locally dry weather – can occur at any time.
The ACA maps warns there are many low water crossings on secondary state highways between Austin and Del Rio and that during heavy rains these low spots can flood extremely quickly. Adventure Cycling advises carrying a Texas state highway map so alternative routes can be taken at the last moment. We should have read that before we set out! But with so many crossings it would mean a lengthly and time consuming detour. So far we’ve kept our feet dry with the deepest water only being around six inches.
As we approached our destination for the night, the Johnson City water tank, looking like a gignatic War of the Worlds tripod, came into view. What followed was the usual rather disappointing Main Street with its bric-a-crac and curios shops replacing all the mainstream stores which had migrated to out to the major trunk roads.
“We got into our sleeping bags fully dressed in the cycling longs we’d been wearing all day. Yes it was cold! Really cold”!
Johnson’s claim to fame is in its name – as it’s the hometown of President Lyndon B Johnson. We rode past his modest single story home from where, on the east porch, he launched his first campaign for congress and his susequent ascent to the White House.
More importantly for us, the supermarket just a stone’s throw from the Roadrunner RV Park where we were camping for the night so we were able to stock up on noodles, avocados and butterscotch puddings. While eating we got chatting to Ian, who was riding from San Francisco to Austin, but was full of the joys of cycle-camping in Australia.
We pitched out tents and got into our sleeping bags fully dressed in the cycling longs we’d been wearing all day. Yes it was cold! Really cold!
Today’s miles: 53.33
Total miles since Anastasia State Park: 1,402.12
