Aransas Pass to Deer Park, Texas©1998 BAM

Saddle up!

It was the kind of night in which you wake up many times only to sleep your hardest just before the alarm clock goes off. I was so restless before the start of my Aransas Pass to Deer Park ride that I thought the night would never end. Morning, however, finally arrived and saying goodbye to my parents, we took control of the street as the salt-laden air enveloped us.

Our quest? To ride by bicycle from Aransas Pass to Bay City and then on to Deer Park the next day. The total distance would be 208 miles.

Linda and I rode from Aransas Pass without event. We breakfasted in Rockport then headed toward Tivoli 21 miles away. The day was cool with a fair wind pushing us over the flat prairie. The way led through openness, a single asphalt ribbon of insignificance in a sea of green salt grasses and shore creatures. The emerald fields blossomed with shore birds. There were gulls, ducks, storks, egrets, pelicans, and host of other birds soaring and singing as we sliced through their private world. The pristine Aransas Wild Life Refuge, through which we rode, is subject to few man-made interruptions. The lone rest stop did however hold a major surprise for us.

Is that a Sissy or a Frog?

The rest stop was the solo infraction on the prairie. As we closed on the rest stop we saw 2 bicycles, both bristling with every basket and contraption conceivable. Always excited to share stories, we stopped to talk to the cyclists. The owner's of the Peewee Herman turned Beverly Hillbilly looking Huffy's were none other than Sissy and Frog. Steel

baskets, ice chests, bungee cords, 2 ½" tires, the works! Sissy and Frog hail from South Texas, and now retired, have headed out on "some bike ridin'" These modern day adventurers conjured visions of Conestoga-powered pioneers of the 1870's. This trip (their second) was a 5 day 285 mile ride from Catula to Angleton. Sissy (in her thonged feet) and Frog (now using his cigarette as a pointer) explained their philosophy. "The secret is… to start slow and taper off."

Seriously though, these great people were enjoying their retirement on our greatest form of transportation. We exchanged stories and left thankful that they didn't make fun of Linda's carbon-fibered "horse" or our clip less "stirrups" 

Good fortune (cookie that is.)

The best place to carbo-load in Port Lavaca is the China Town Restaurant. With sixty miles behind us, we couldn't resist. Their buffet is always great and lunching there the first day was perfect. I especially liked the way the snickers drained from the faces of some teenaged boys. They were eyeing our spandex when I explained that we were riding 200 miles.

Hide the blurry stuff in the middle.

Riding long distances can be likened to credit-card contracts. In both cases, they start and end very up-beat, but somewhere in the middle they become a little hazy. This was true of this ride as we rode through miles of flat wind-strewn prairie. The journey was highlighted only by road-kill and by trees resembling ancient gentlemen bent by the incessant wind. Somewhere in this mindlessness we reached the 100-mile mark. Here the Tres Palacios River marked the turning point of our first day and like cows heading to the barn, we picked up our pace and our spirits.

Snow crabs!

Bay City at last! We tooled through this wonderful town feeling pretty cocky. One hundred seventeen miles were now behind us and a shower was just ahead. We stayed the night in the Econo Lodge Hotel. They gave us the change of clothes that I had dropped off a few days before. After endless blissful showers, we walked across the street to the Golden Corral. There we feasted on the all-you-could-eat snow crab legs. Linda swore they would be an endangered species by the time I was through. Hey, they were just that good!

On the road at the crack of…er…midmorning.

We slept until 7:30 the next morning and gave up any chance of an early start. Why I couldn't get rolling right away Idon't know. I stopped 3 times I think within the first 10 miles to rest and stretch and finally got my body moving. The road led us through unpopulated farmlands leaving us dangerously low on fluids. As we drained the last of our water bottles, we came across the business of Able Casas. Able operates a first-rate custom automobile shop. Several examples of his beautiful craftsmanship were on hand. One truck in particular had spectacular paint and fiberglass work. Able graciously shared his water and air conditioning with us and proved to be a fine friend in our time of need.

Dinosaurs and Speed bumps.

The rural farm communities transitioned to the suburban. With this came the road-kill. It is easy to ride blissfully in our air-conditioned cars; mindless of the debris and carnage that litters our highways. However, while cycling, one can always tell how close he is to "civilization" by the amount of car-struck carrion strewn along the way. I can hardly fathom how hunters could ever kill as many animals as autos. Yea, I think the automobile has to be the world's greatest predator. Anyway, I have lived throughout the USA and seen many of God's creatures. The most interesting looking by far though is the armadillo. This slow moving, nearsighted dinosaur is native to about anyplace here that has soil he can dig in. And with his strength and claws, that is just about everywhere. The problem is, the little guy can't see to well and often finds himself wondering onto the road. Well, you get the picture. I was once told they used them for speed bumps down here.

Service, smiles, and hospitality.
If you are hungry, the Hardtack Café in West Columbia is the place for you. Let me tell you, we arrived at this all-you-can-eat BBQ place before it opened. When the owner/operator ,Scott Leopold, heard we were cycling, he opened for us and fed us like lumberjacks! Chopped beef, pork chops, veggies, umm, umm! The cobbler? It was the best I have ever had! The Hardtack is the site of preference for many celebrities and visiting VIP's. You can be treated like one too!

Smelling water.

I saw a western once where a cattle-drive crossed a waterless stretch. When the cows finally neared a river however, they could smell it from miles away and began moving faster and faster. I always think of this near the end of a long ride and have often confused strangers by gleefully announcing, "I smell water!" I guess it was about 10 miles from home when I first "caught the scent." Linda and I felt great as we coasted into my driveway, victorious.

Nostalgia

I can't wait until I can do that again! Yea right! Nostalgia has not set in yet. What has set in is my saddle soreness. The Aransas Pass to Deer Park ride was a great success though. We arrived, unharmed, without mechanical problems, not even a flat tire. We saw many interesting things and met some nice and helpful people to whom I would like to thank. I also thank God for keeping us safe. Two times at least, cars took dangerous chances at intersections that could have resulted in our being struck. I believe there was divine intervention those two times and maybe more. As for Sissy and Frog (whom I took liberal journalistic license by portraying them as country bumpkins, and who were not at all), I dedicate this story to you. You two are what cycling is all about. That is, taking the great adventure, not slaves to technology, just embarking on your bikes and living life to its fullest. You two are the best and the highlight of my trip.

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