It’s not been easy.

At times we’ve had to eat McDonalds twice a day. At times the wheels and tyres have failed. At times the roads have been hellish, the sun has been unbearable and the rain has beat down on our poor tired, old bodies. However, the American people have been super friendly, we have never run out of Woodford Reserve Kentucky Bourbon and the beer is improving. Things are just great.

Leaving Orange, we had a short 37 mile cycle to Beaumont. We were glad it was short for the rain fell like a tap was turned on. Visibility on the road was poor and it wasn’t long before we were having our second breakfast of cheeseburger, apple pie and coffee – that’s our standard mid morning order.

Now we love McD’s. Its not as good as Tim Horton’s in Canada because Timmy’s had donuts and cyclists love donuts. We struggle to get donuts down here. All we see is the ‘donut palace’ and believe me it’s not a palace! Where do all the police officers get their donuts? Don’t tell me they don’t eat donuts. I’ve seen them – they eat donuts!

Now I mentioned previously (Louisiana Roadlife) about our two most scary cycles in the world. Well straight in at number one is a new scary cycle – the ‘Rainbow Bridge’. Please forgive the quality of the photo but I had to zoom in, its raining pretty hard and we’re on a hard shoulder with trucks passing at light speed. However, as you can see it didn’t look like a bloody rainbow!

Built in 1936 to allow the tallest American warship of the time (USS Patoka) to pass below and whilst the USS Patoka never did go under the bridge, 82 years later that practical decision had unpractical consequences for us.

Now Susan hates cycling over such bridges – remember she has already had a nightmare (some say it might be a prophetic vision) about being ‘catapulted’ over the edge. So she adopts a positive approach and says ‘well then let’s go’. On the other hand I’m thinking ‘wait, slow down lets think about this’. To be honest I’m thinking ‘f****s sake’!

You see it has no hard shoulder, a slope like a roller coaster and reduced visibility with the spray. The barrier wall on the near side is two foot tall – yes you’re already thinking what I was thinking – just the right height for someone to be catapulted over!

Now I don’t recall a time when I’ve ever been so reluctant to take something like this on. It really was pretty scary. Susan, of course, was trying to be positive and helpful but is that what you need at a time like this? Was she weighing up the risks or just looking through them? I will give her the benefit of the doubt and say she was being brave and I was just being a ‘big Jessie’. Honestly, it was borderline terrifying.

So we went for it. As soon as the bike hits the mountainous slope our speed slows to 6 mph though we pedal as hard as we can. The traffic comes at us in waves and I take the centre position of the inside lane – if you keep to the side the cars will pass within inches and that bloody side wall was too low to risk a swerve to the right.

The roadway was in sections and connected by steel teeth with gaps that will take out a bicycle wheel. I pick the spot to cross each section but that’s not so bad as, by this time, we are down to 4mph and the legs are burning. The rain continues to come down in sheets and the trucks appear behind through the rain mist in my rear view mirror. I watch every single one to make sure they pull out in time. That said, we have no escape option as we’re now 180 feet over the water.

When we crest the top that’s the time to push harder because that’s when we’re most vulnerable. As we climb the cars and trucks can, hopefully, see our bike (with its three rear lights) from a distance back. As soon as we go over the crest of the top we disappear and the first thing a driver sees as they go over the top is an almost stationary bicycle. I don’t think we have ever pedalled so hard.

The drivers were great and moved out into the outside lane and gave us lots of room. There was one ‘deadneck’ who sounded his horn and I still had enough strength to give him the two fingered salute. No mate we didn’t want to be there either!

Susan didn’t get ‘catapulted’ over the edge and we survived the ‘Rainbow Bridge’. She still doesn’t talk about the bridge but she has recently been taking more than a fair share of my Woodford Reserve Kentucky Bourbon. I’m an understanding kind of guy though.

After that the cycle to Houston was pretty uneventful. Oh, apart from our puncture resistant front tyre having a puncture and the front brake leaking oil. And did I mention the category 3 thunderstorm where we had to take shelter from forked lightning? That’s as a cue for a picture of that brave soldier, Susan.

And then here’s the both of us.

Finally, here’s our dinner last night in Dayton, Texas.

Yes guys we’re in a gas station again. That’s a beef burrito and I’m sitting looking at a beer fridge! That’s my definition of ‘fine dining’!

We have now reached Houston, Space City, from where the famous, inspiring American Apollo missions were controlled.

Houston is, however, also referred to as the ‘energy capital’ of the world because of its innovation in oil and gas. That said, Susan and I are not surprised by this next fact – Texas emits more greenhouses gases than any other American state and also higher than all but six countries in the world! Over the last couple of days we’ve cycled passed so much petroleum refining and chemical manufacturing plants. We can taste the air as we cycle.

But we’re in the Space Capital of the world and its only fitting we leave with some space quotes. Yes, yes I know the most famous is ‘one small step’ but here’s the best of the rest.

‘Anyone who sits on top of the largest hydrogen-oxygen fuelled system in the world, knowing they’re going to light the bottom, and doesn’t get a little worried does not fully understand the situation’ John Young, after being asked if he was nervous about making the first Space Shuttle flight in 1981.

‘I didn’t feel like a giant, I felt very very small’ Neil Armstrong on looking back at the Earth from the Moon in 1969.

And finally,

‘From out there on the Moon, international politics looks so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, ‘look at that, you son of a bitch’ Edgar Mitchell, Apollo 14 astronaut.

All American heroes. Nuff said.

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