From Deming we cycled 62 miles to Lordsburg through a reasonably strong headwind. All the way across America and our first headwind worth mentioning.

I’ve moaned about the heat, the rain and the cold but I’m not going to moan about the wind. Not yet anyway. A headwind is worse than everything else put together but its not been bad enough yet to create an issue for us.

Still the cycle to Lordsburg was pretty tiring and it didn’t help that we got another puncture 6 miles from our destination.

To date that’s 18 punctures. Probably 5 caused by degraded rim tape, 6 by wire from truck tyres and the rest cause unknown. Tyre choice is important when touring and the Schwalbe Big Apple tyres we started with was a mistake. Great tyres for the tandem but not for American roads which are ridiculously covered in crap.

After Lordsburg we headed 77 miles to Safford. Along the way we passed into Arizona. That’s right – time for another border picture.

Now I suppose at this point I should clarify a little bit of fake news. We’re in America after all and I hear there’s a lot of fake news about and well I kind of added to it.

I know you would have been disappointed if we had crossed into New Mexico and I hadn’t posted a picture of the border with a sign. So I did a couple of posts ago.

Actually, when we crossed into New Mexico along the Rio Grande cycle path there wasn’t a ‘New Mexico’ sign. A couple of days later, when we left ‘New Mexico’ into Arizona we crossed the road and pretended we were arriving. Susan made me do it.

Now most of the people reading the blog won’t know the difference but in the interests of blog integrity I must confess the arriving in New Mexico picture is a fake! We were actually leaving!

Thankfully, most of us are old people and will forget that detail and in a month I will erase the last few paragraphs of this post and nobody will be wiser and my conscience will be clear.

However, we really are in Arizona and what a place of outstanding beauty it is.

So where are we now?

Honestly, this is where we are! No more fake news.

3 days cycling to Phoenix.

2,250 miles done and dusted.

Leaving Las Cruces we headed directly west towards Deming (66 miles).

We followed ‘frontage’ roads alongside the main Interstate and initially made good progress when we left Las Cruces. Then Google Maps told us to use an overpass to cross over to the north side of the Interstate to continue. We decided to stay on the road we were on. Oh I know but you had to be there! Everything was looking fine and Google Maps said the route we were currently on was an option.

Two miles later the road went from paved highway to this:

Well what would you do? Turn around and go back to the overpass? Now I’m the kind of person that is always going to go forward and I rely on Susan to add a bit of sense when sense is required.

“What do you think?” I asked. I was sounding reasonably positive and so Susan said to her ‘idiot at the front’ of the bicycle ‘I think we should give it a try‘.

Off we set down the sandy limestone road. ‘How is it?’ Susan asked the ‘idiot at the front’ whose steering was weaving. It was clear I was having difficultly balancing. ‘It’s fine‘ said the ‘idiot at the front’.

I mean, that’s the kind of thing the ‘idiot at the front’ would say and Susan should know that. What I’m saying here is that really all what was about to happen was now Susan’s fault – she was listening to the ‘idiot at the front’. This is actually a lesson if you are ever faced with an ‘idiot at the front’ – please do something to change the course of your destiny.

So the road changed to this:

Instead of heading west towards Deming we were now heading due south into the desert. We were eight miles from the overpass and the sand was getting deeper in patches.

Now the last thing you ask the ‘idiot at the front’ is ‘is it still okay for you?‘ By this time I was getting used to cycling in the frequent sand pits and as long as I shouted ‘pedal hard‘ we could force our way through.

I was just congratulating myself on the skill I was displaying when the bike went over into a sand pit. I managed to jump off as I get a millisecond warning as the front wheel goes from my hands. Unfortunately, Susan hits the sand with the bike. It’s okay though I’m fine and I still haven’t even got sand in my shoes!

We cycle on as we know there is a right turn 10 miles into the desert that will turn us west and back towards civilisation. ‘Turn right’ says Google Maps and continue on this road for 13 miles. This track was actually called ‘The Robert Larson Boulevard’. Well Robert you’re having a laugh!

So would you turn back now? Of course you wouldn’t!

So ‘idiot at the front’ and Susan headed onwards. We couldn’t cycle at this section so we pushed for 15 minutes until the desert sand firmed up and we cycled again. We stopped for lunch but we couldn’t eat much because we weren’t carrying enough water. Have you ever tried eating a sandwich when your mouth is like the desert you’re cycling through? I suppose I should also mention it was now midday.

Now at the time it was all very difficult but after two months on the road we are reasonably fit and hardy so everything was calm. It’s hard not to be calm when you have an ‘idiot at the front’ who is entirely confident he can cycle through endless miles of desert.

After another five miles this road came to a junction. That’s right a bloody junction in the desert! Google Maps said go straight ahead westwards but there was another option to turn right and head north eight miles towards the Interstate.

Now the route westwards was reasonably appealing to the ‘idiot at the front’ as it headed in the right direction. He even walked a bit and scoped it out.

Unfortunately, there actually wasn’t even a track. Maybe there was at one time. Maybe there will be in the future but right now it was desert and, in these circumstances, even the ‘idiot at the front’ had to admit defeat and head north.

All went well as we headed north and we even safely negotiated a mud pit in the desert. Yes a red mud pit and we’re still scraping the mud off the bike and our shoes.

Then, as we approached the highway Susan said ‘if there’s a fence between us and the highway you can cut it and we’ll get through. You can use your multi tool’.

Now the pliers on my multi tool would be lucky to cut through a paper bag but that’s exactly the kind of never give up attitude the ‘idiot at the front’ likes. What a partnership!

Thankfully, we found another frontage paved road and the day was saved. After another 25 miles of cycling and next to no water we were pretty dehydrated and stopped at a gas station just before the motel.

We will dream about the large ‘fountain’ of cola we each had in the setting sun for many years to come

The day ended at the Grand Motor Inn with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, macaroni cheese and beer. What a lovely end to our cycle in the New Mexico desert.

We left El Paso, Texas, and headed north to the town of Las Cruces, New Mexico. It was a short 48 miles with only 1,000 ft ascent and everything went smoothly.

I’ve now replaced the rim tape on both wheels and the rear wheel now has a self sealing inner tube. I wonder how well that will work? All the spokes seem strong and apart from a difficult to trace squeak from behind Susan’s seat all appears well with the bike. Incidentally, there’s never been a squeak from my seat but I really don’t know if you can read anything into that 🙄.

Part of our route to Las Cruces went along a cycle path beside the Rio Grande river and on that path we passed into New Mexico. As everyone likes to see Susan and I standing beside a sign here is a photo at a New Mexico sign.

Las Cruces is a nice enough town and was established by the US Army in 1849. It was built near a stand of crosses marking the graves of travellers and soldiers and this landmark of crosses gave the town its name.

Las Cruces, nearby Mesilla and southern New Mexico was the area where the infamous Billy the Kid marauded. He stole, murdered, was arrested and jailed (in Mesilla) only to escape, murder and subsequently be hunted down by Pat Garrett, an American old west lawman. One day, Billy the Kid was holed up in Pete Maxwell’s (local land owner) house and suspecting someone was in the bedroom he walked in and asked “quien es?” (“who’s there?’). Garrett answered by shooting Billy the Kid twice in the chest. Frontier justice.

That’s us at the big blue dot.

Over the next week or so we head towards Phoenix, Arizona, passing briefly through New Mexico en route.

We won’t slavishly follow the American Cycling Association’s Southern Tier Route as some of it doesn’t make sense. We really don’t need to cycle circuitous routes through anonymous hills when we can take a pleasant and more direct route.

So tomorrow it’s Las Cruces.

Recently the weather has been relatively cloudy and cool (25c /77f) and we have not been troubled by wind. We much prefer the cloudy skies but feel our luck wont last.

1997 miles down. A lot less than that to San Diego.

Leaving our guest house in Fort Davis the road climbed for 18 miles at a 1% gradient and we eventually reached 6,000 feet altitude.

The next 62 miles was either downhill or reasonably flat until we reached Van Horn. We made great time and at a ‘banana break’ en route, Susan caught me returning from a quick shopping trip.

As you can see the weather is still quite cool. Long may it continue.

Actually, the shop is a sculpture’ called ‘Prada Marfa’. I’m not even going to offer a comment or wonder how much it cost or even ask what’s the point?

From Van Horn we had a short (34 miles) to Sierra Blanca which is a lovely town that’s been bypassed by the interstate. It’s slowly declining into a ghost town.

We were told that the ‘State’ cinema, in the photo directly above, is one of only two adobe (mud brick) cinemas in America.

Apparently it closed in the 1950’s and inside is pristine and looks like the day it closed with all the old equipment and movie posters. Unfortunately, the current owner isn’t caring for the outside. Sad.

Leaving the decayed elegance of Sierra Blanca we cycled 72 miles to the south east of El Paso followed by a short and uneventful 24 miles into the city centre the next day.

We met some fellow cyclists who were travelling the same route in the opposite direction. Lovely people. Good luck with your journey and be safe.

So that’s where we are now – El Paso.

Right on the Texas and Mexico border. We have been staying at a lovely Airbnb house near the city centre but, after three nights of accommodation luxury, a new bottle of bourbon, numerous bottles of local craft beer and more Mexican food than is good for us, its time to hit the road again. I will be glad to get back to my burgers 🍔

Hasta la proxima.

Adios.

From our camp in Langtry we headed 60 miles to Sanderson over hill and canyon, climbing over 3,000 feet in the process. A hard day with a puncture thrown in for good measure.

The motel was crummy but the Ranch House for a burger was damn fine. Wish I had been counting how many burgers I’ve had this trip. It’s an easy choice when you’re tired but packed with protein and carbs – just what a cyclists needs. Sometimes there’s even a few vitamins if a salad is included.

You wouldn’t complain about the burger in the Ranch House even if it was bad. You see the young waitress has a gun strapped to her waist. That’s Texas! And I can’t even begin to tell you what was written in sparkly letters on her T shirt! Really I can’t. I was like a 5 year old child who sees something strange he shouldn’t be staring at. Ranch House – thoroughly recommended.

Over the next few days we pedalled steadily through Marathon (55 miles), Fort Davis (55 miles), Van Horn (80 miles) and climbed 5,000 feet. It wasn’t so rolling but a steady 1% gradient mile after mile. Now these 1% hills are relentlessly slow and our speed suffers. Give me the pain of a big uphill and downhill any day.

Approaching Marathon we had a triple puncture whammy! Yes its time to talk wheel issues again. You love it!

Following ‘Spokegate’ in Florida we thought our wheel issues were behind us. We had both wheels rebuilt and Susan lost some weight so all was fine or so we thought!

Five miles from Marathon. Front wheel Puncture. Quick change (Susan and I are so practised we’re now like a formula 1 team pit stop team). New inner tube in. Pedal one mile. Second front wheel puncture. Change inner tube. Pedal one mile. Puncture!

No spare inner tubes left so we inflated the deflating inner tube and kept on pedalling, stopping every mile to re- inflate. We made it to our rather nice motel cabin and turned it into a bike workshop.

Now you’re thinking we didn’t check the tyres for a sharp object but we did. It was only when we got the the motel when I examined the burst inner tubes I found the punctures were on the inside of the wheel. Without getting too technical and boring the culprit was the rim tape.

Cyclists know what I’m talking about and for non cyclists who are still reading let me explain – inside the tyre, the rim tape stops the rubber inner tube catching on jaggy metal bits on the inside of the wheel. Our rim tape was like myself – well past its best!

The plastic tape appears to have deformed in the heat at the earlier part of our tour and hardened in the cold of the latter part of the tour. It now presented hard sharp plastic edges to the inner tube.

Now if you’re not interested in tubes and rims then please move on to the nice picture of Susan smiling at you. You’ve had all that salacious storytelling about Jersey Lilly and the Jack of Hearts and now its time to cater for people interested in cycling.

So what did we do with our deformed rim tape in the middle of Marathon which is in the middle of nowhere? I went to the local general store and bought some masking tape and lined the rims with a bit of a diy bodge. Do you know? Sometimes I sit back with a beer and congratulate myself for the ingenuity. Well, nobody else is going to do it 🤠

Before we move on from Marathon – the town was a filming location for the 1985 Kevin Coster film ‘Fandango’. Another movie reference for you Brian – you’re probably the only one that may have even heard of that movie! 🎥 🍿

The following day was wind and rain and 1% gradient. You’ve seen Susan in her summer gear so now its her cold rain gear. Still smiling – what a trouper!

We passed a rather sad sight on the road – a ghost bike to commemorate a cyclist killed on the road. Ghost bikes are part of an ‘unofficial’ worldwide movement.

We also passed some lighthearted sights.

Eventually reaching our lovely guest house at Fort Davis.

Self check in with no manager/owner present and no other guests. The whole ghostly place to ourselves. Sweet. The beer? Oh that’s me still congratulating myself for solving ‘Rimgate’

Bye y’all 🤠

Jersey Lily eventually made it to Langtry, Texas, the town named in her honour, and found that her admirer Judge Roy had recently died. During her short stay she was asked to cut a pack of cards. Fittingly she drew the Jack of Hearts.

Lily was a princess, she was fair-skinned and precious as a child,

She did whatever she had to do, she had that certain flash every time she smiled,

She’d come from a broken home, had lots of strange affairs,

With men in every walk of life which took her everywhere,

But she’d never met anyone quite like the Jack of Hearts. (B.D)

It’s been a while since I last wrote the blog or so it seems in the life of a touring cyclist – so many places and people all blur together. You’re probably thinking it’s not been that blinking long!

We’ve been busy relentlessly turning the pedals and dealing with the rain, wind and hills. Now I’ve got the time to catchup.

So last time I wrote we were at the nice Comstock Motel.

What a great place. Notice the nice touch with the life size silhouette of the horse and the cowboy – you just don’t get such authenticity at a Hilton!

Essentially, Comstock is not much more than a ghost town with nothing left at the centre apart from a small gas station, Border Patrol Station and The J and P Bar and Grill across the road.

The place next door to the J and P has long since closed and I was disappointed I was not eating catfish that night – a local southern States favourite. Instead, it was a rather nice burger and chips at the J and P and a great chat with the locals in the saloon with the chipboard walls. Obviously, one of those authentic retro designed places – you don’t get that either at the Hilton!

Next morning it was raining but as we only had 30 miles to cycle to Langtry, we waited until 11am when the rain stopped. We then started cycling and the rain started too.

So we arrived at Langtry soaked to the skin and sat in a warm and very welcoming Texas Visitor Centre where the staff couldn’t be nicer. The visitor centre was built around the original bar of Judge Roy Bean.

Now I could tell you the colourful story of Judge Roy Bean but to save me typing here’s a photo of the historical information marker.

Now here’s the best photo I could get of old Judge Roy Bean. Apologies for the quality – it’s a photo in a glass cabinet and I’m cold and wet through.

Hopefully, you read the plaque and it’s interesting to see that the town of Langtry was named after the actress Lillie Langtry.

Lillie, born in Jersey and known as Jersey Lily, was a famous actress and socialite in her day. Living in New York and London she had relationships with quite a few famous aristocrats including Prince of Wales (later Edward VII) and was introduced to Queen Victoria. It must have been quite a journey for her to travel to this remote place in Texas with its adobe brick (mud) and wooden buildings.

The visitor centre has correspondence from Judge Roy to Lillie and its quite poignant that by the time she actually visited the town he had died.

So guys the message is this. If you see a famous woman on the television or in the movies and take a liking to her then start corresponding. Rename your house in her honour (hopefully your wife wont mind) and persist.

If Judge Roy can get Lillie Langtry to visit a remote wilderness in Texas you also have a chance. Don’t get put off by the police and the restraining order and please don’t say I encouraged you. All I’m doing is giving you the facts – you may be old, have a beard, have next to no money and a house made of wood but you’re still in the game!

Ladies I’m afraid it doesn’t work the other way around – us guys are far too discerning 🙂 (yes I know that’s a damn big lie!)

Incidentally, ‘The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean’ was made into a movie directed by no less than John Huston and starring the incredible Paul Newman.

That night was camping night and we left the warmth of the Visitor Center for the relatively dry bit of ground behind the community center. Well it wasn’t actually dry but it was the bit of ground that wasn’t flooded.

Yes I know – you’re jealous your holidays are not like this!

It gets better though. We may have had no sleeping mats but we used the bike seat covers to lie on. We may have had no sleeping bags but we had a woollen blanket the kind owner of the Comstock Motel gave us. We may have had no stove but we had cheese crackers and spam for dinner ! Yes you heard me right! Tasty spam that all you posh people no longer eat. Get soaked through and lie in a tent in a wet field and then you’ll know how tasty spam is!

It gets better. The tent is pretty small but we shared it. Yes, Susan and I shared the tent with another couple – Mr Bourbon and Mrs Netflix! Ha ha now you really wish you could have been there!

So that was us – sleeping in damp clothes under a blanket. It wasn’t all fun though particularly for poor Susan. In the small tent we had to sleep head to foot and Susan’s head shared the same space as my feet in two pairs of damp socks. That’s what I call love.