DAY 17: 10/6 El Paso, TX to Fort Hancock, TX

DAY 17: 10/6 El Paso, TX 67 miles to Fort Hancock, TX –

After Stu and Jacques left us in El Paso, we cycled 5 miles to our Warm Shower hosts. We were welcomed by Rebecca and Mike and the smell of warm chocolate brownies baked just for us. After a wonderful home cooked feast of Thai chicken, Heather polished off about a dozen bite-sized brownies.

Heather too, can plow away the sweets

Thinking about the day, I was struck by a sign we passed that was purportedly about religion, but could easily have been about Heather since her middle name is Faith. 

A sign about spirituality and about Heather 

Our hosts were warm, genuine and down to earth. It was great being with them last night as I felt a bit of a letdown by the departure of our friends. Had we gone ourselves to a hotel room, I suspect I may have found that to be sad. 

Host Mike

One more thought on yesterday, is the Rio Grande ain’t so grande! It was a dry River bed. It would have made a great set for Cecile B. Demille to shoot Israelites fleeing Egyptians through the Red Sea. 

Rio Grande not so grand. 

On our way out of town, we checked out the campus of University of Texas at El Paso (UTEP) and literally biked right up a ramp onto an open football practice field. Heather may have been the first “pink-shirt ride-on” in the UTEP Miners’ history, whose graduate Aaron Jones stars for Green Bay. 

Pink-shirt ride-on

A quick stop at CVS for lip balm, resulted in an impulse 2-for-1 purchase of one of my favorite combinations: milk chocolate and salt. 

Cycling bandit made out like a bandit 

We rode quiet Farm Road 76, with Interstate 10 a few miles in the distance to our left. We could see the stream of tractor trailers. On our right were mountains that lay in Mexico beyond the nearby border. There was a seemingly ever-present passing of US Customs and Immigration SUVs. I stopped to talk with one agent to ask about the border, learned it was less than an eighth of a mile away, and his concern for me was genuine. He offered me a water refill and told me if we run into any trouble at all, we could call them for help. 

I was enjoying the scenery of fields of green crops alternating with fields of fallow earth. Each ranch we passed had a gate with its identity. Most were modest. 

Farmland scenery

Ranch gate

Around 1pm, we passed though the very small town of Fabens, with its two stoplights. We took a brief refuge from the rising midday heat in an air conditioned laundromat for a snack and rest. As we were leaving town, I wanted to check my directions and there was not much of a safe shoulder to stop in, so I made a right turn onto a side street. I immediately got yapped at by a small dog who gave short chase to us but gave up as we went two houses past. However, the street was a dead end and we needed to exit right back the way we came in and this very smart dog stood at the corner like a sentry awaiting us. As I built up as much speed as possible in a short distance to pass it, I realized another peril. I was riding through a stop sign into the potential of two way traffic and needed to make an immediate 90 degree right turn. This was not an easy maneuver and even more difficult with the small yapper chasing me. Due to luck alone, no cars were passing at that time, and I escaped unharmed. My record with the dogs now stood at 3-0.  I thought to myself, I just can’t keep doing these chases. 

The rest of the ride was hot and the beginning of what we were warned about - a week of difficult nothingness, on bad roads for riding, in West Texas. 

Our motel was a stark contrast from the homey comforts of the past three nights. Thankfully, Angie’s, the restaurant across the street, served up a slice of Pecan Pie as close to perfection as possible! I’d been dreaming of just this ever since we cycled through the Pecan groves. 

Angie's serves it best

Pecan perfection

© Copyright Mark Segal 2021