Jan. 11th – Feb. 3rd – Marfa, TX to Vanderpool, TX

How to describe the last 25 days? A boondoggle. A series of rift-raft days plundering our time and treasure. A clown show kerfuffle of mechanical issues, leaving me holding a wrench and a sad cloud of deflated colorless balloons. In this time, Ance’s aluminum rim chose to split, Augustine’s chain snapped, my Kenda tire nearly exploded and then Ance’s actually did – going out with the bang of a gunshot. 

Aside from all that, we killed some time in wonderful Mexico, met some wonderful people and ate, and ate, and ate until our bellies were plump, happy, and eager for the next meal. We broke out of the desert into the green hill country of Texas and met more wonderful people. It is the goodness and kindness of Texans that allows me to type out these updates from the comfort of indoors, while ice rain drops from the cold heavens.

The world is big and the depth of peoples’ goodness runs deeper than the roots of oaks that shade the weary and freely fill the lungs of those that breathe. I turn 37 this month. I hope, when I grow up, to be as generous and kind as those we’ve met over the past 25 days.

Happy Travels

– Latvian Alaskan Family

Jan.11th – Marfa to Alpine (Lost Alaskan RV)

27 miles. The howling wind has settled into a whisper as the morning of the 11th shook the darkness of night from its hair. Started off morning zip tying Augustine’s front rack to her front fork. Note to self – the Salsa low rider racks are not so great. The lower eyelet that bolts the rack to the fork has broken off. Probably going to have to wait until Austin to get it fixed or find a replacement.

Set off from Marfa for a relatively easy climb to what is considered a pass in these here parts. Stopped for lunch after a fit of bridge road construction – just at the summit. Had to patch yet another tube on my bicycle after lunch. Annoying. Glided into Alpine at a steady clip after lunch. Punched in at one of the local Porter grocery stores and set off to the Lost Alaskan RV park – mainly for the name.

The girls got an evening of play at the local small human equipment areas and off to bed we went.

Jan. 12th – Alpine to Marathon

32 miles. Woke to a chilly wind and the cold morning shade of pines and bamboo. Showers for all in the morning. Sprint of a day with decent tailwind and mostly downhill. Rolled into Marathon around 3 PM. Setup camp in quite possibly the nicest tent sites we’ve enjoyed since Idaho. Pond with gold fish and a placid compound of twee shacks and swings abound.

Jan. 13th. – Marathon to 10 Miles West of Sanderson

45 miles. Downhill and good tailwind the whole day. Faster than lighting. An interesting development late in the day. Ance asked to stop, indicating that all of the sudden her brakes started clamping down on each rotation. I suspected a bent wheel somehow. While inspecting the wheel, I heard a popping noise and the dreaded sizzle of air being released from its useful chamber. After taking off the tire, I found that the aluminum rim was splitting apart, creating jagged edges which punctured the inner-tube. In a word – shitty. I electrical taped the jagged splitting seam and bent the rim back into a somewhat working shape with my pliers and pressurized the tire to well below the rim / tire specs. 

Ance and I swapped the trailer – the person with the trailer has less of a load in their bike bags. Off we road for another 5 miles to tie for our second longest day. The night came swift with darkness as Ance and I chatted about what to do about our split rim situation.

Jan. 14th – 10 W of Sanderson to Sanderson (Canyon RV)

10 miles. Road downhill with tailwind into Sanderson with a rest / planning day in mind. Got to our campground and quickly set to making plans for how we were going to fix our rim issue.

Amtrak, no – expensive and the schedule out and into Sanderson is insane. Buses, No – there is no bus. We ended up asking around town for a lift into Del Rio – we saw on the map one bike shop that might be able to help us out. We happened upon Valentine . He and his wife run a local food truck just nearby the Amtrak station. We arranged to have Valentine pick us up the following morning at 7 AM. We didn’t let it slip that this is an early hour for the Kvasnikoff’s on a cycling trip.

Retreated back to our RV site of astroturf and dinosaur statutes for a game night as the wind began to whip and whoop. A troubled night of attempted sleep ensued. The wind hollered so loudly it bent our tent in half throughout the night – smacking Augustine a few times in the head.

Jan. 15th – Sanderson to Del Rio and Acuna, Mexico

120 miles, by car. 10 miles on bicycles. We woke, or more accurately, opened our eyes from pretending to sleep at 6:30 AM. The fury of the wind had not abated, still it tussled the air in a fit of humorless chill. We quickly packed up the insane amount of gear we have just in time for Valentine’s arrival. Loaded up his truck to the the hilt and off we shot hurdling toward Del Rio at 80 MPH.

Valentine told of his family and his life – how he loves his kids and to fish. He has an easy way of talking with a smile on his face. The conversation ebbed and flowed all the way into Del Rio for about an hour and a half. Had breakfast with Valentine at a spot he likes and then unloaded at the Lakeside Sports bicycle shop. 

We quickly found out that the shop was essentially out of business – something about the last mechanic quitting. After it became clear we weren’t going to get Ance’s wheel fixed on the American side, we jetted off to Acuna, Mexico – after eating some tasty droughts at the River City Doughnut shop. Toasted coconut. Just do it.

I should clarify here that Ance’s wheel is usable just not reliable. We didn’t want to ride into the 80 miles or so of nothingness and have Ance’s wheel catastrophically fail. That is to say, it was in good enough working order for a short 10 mile ride into Mexico. 

The crossing into Mexico was accompanied by a gray sky and fanatical gusts of wind. The combination cast a setting of the coming apocalypse. We road around Acuna a bit, poking in at bicycle shops. We had little hope anyone had what we were looking for in a wheel, but you never know. Stopped at one shop and as I went to knock on a door of what appeared to be a bike shop, not one but two locals gave me a disapproving finger wave. An older gentleman informed us that the owner had apparently gone “loco” recently – yelling in the street and throwing bicycles around. He directed us to another shop.

We met Luis, with impeccable English and a great kind smile. While he didn’t have a wheel, he did have some spare tubes. He was getting ready himself for a cycling tour down the Mexican coast. We made off from Luis’ shop toward our AirBnB. There is one hefty hill that cuts through Acuna. The majority of streets decide to cut straight up the vertical. For the second (perhaps 3rd?) time this trip, we actually need to dismount the bikes and push ourselves shamefully up. 

We arrived at out Casa Marbella and promptly set to being lazy, eating, playing games and general slothing. 

Jan. 16th – Jan. 24th – Acuna, Mexico

0 miles. Days of waiting and outstanding lazy degeneracy. Cartoons, movies, games, food….so much food. Tacos, salsa, beans, and munchies. Rinse and repeat for 10 or so days. We all probably gained 15 pounds. 

On the wheel front, we resorted to ordering a new/used wheel from Haines, Alaska. Yeah, I typed that right. After a barrage of phone calls to Silver City, NM and 6 or 7 bike shops in Phoenix, we opted to call up some friends in Haines who connected us up with the Sockeye Cycle’s owners. They hooked us up with a fantastic wheel and 2 day UPS shipping – which actually took about 6 days, but whatevs. 

Took one unloaded bicycle trip back to America on the 21st. We needed to pick up some paperwork to apply for the kids’ passport renewals – their current passports expire in February and we had an appointment at the Del Rio Post Office. Well, the appointment was canceled due to staff contracting Covid and on the way across the boarder bridge, Augustine’s chain snapped. Awesome.

I left Ance and the kids just on the other side of the boarder – they hung out at Dollar General and a greasy gas station. Swung by Fed-Ex, picked up paperwork – check. Coasted into Wal-Mart, no chain that would fit. Called around town and stopped in at the shuttered bike shop one more time. Pestered a guy cutting marble in the back, he texted his boss. Said he would get back to me. Fantastic.

Met back up with the family and we limped back to Mexico. Stopped by Luis’ bike shop again. He was able to throw a new chain on, however, it doesn’t quite fit right, skips in the higher gears. It is better than using the bicycle as a scooter though. Essentially, we’re continuing our cycling touring kerfuffle boondoggle. 

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While the days of Mexican leisure, complete with tacos and tequila of every sort, have been great, by the time the 25th was rolling about, were were antsy to get back on the road. 

Jan. 25th – Acuna to Del Rio, TX

10 miles. Took off from Acuna to shake off the days of laziness. With paperwork in hand, we were able to put in the daughters’ passport renewal applications.

After some deliberation and a stop into the store, we trucked off to the Del Rio Elks Lodge after Alan Alexander got back to me to confirm we could camp behind the lodge. After arriving, Alan texted me to come have a visit in the lodge. What proceeded was an awkward and dimly lit exchange in the smokey Elks Lodge bar. Alan was busy arranging paperwork and signing checks. Ance and I got some $4 dollar cocktails and chatted with the regulars at Alan’s table. We then slunk out – grateful for the camp spot and hospitality, but not particularly eager for more halted conversation at the bar.

Jan. 26th – Del Rio

0 miles. Had to wait around another day to get the replacement wheel in. Stopped in at a Chinese buffet and outstandingly gorged ourselves – an effect that lasted for two days. We were, finally, able to pick up the replacement wheel from the UPS store. Got back to our camping spot and I commenced to swap the tire and tube to the new wheel. Found that the new wheel only accommodates presta valves, I only have schrader tubes. G’al dang son of a hay stack cluster funk backside dingleberry. 

Jan. 27th – Del Rio to Pinto Creek Picnic Area

22 miles. Finally broke free of our Del Rio breakdown. I started the day with a quick 2 mile ride to Wal-Mart to by a couple of presta valve tubes. Getting back on the bikes feels great. Though, I do feel my legs have atrophied and my ass is unprepared for that seat, once again. Stopped at railroad track pull off for lunch. Gray. Cycled onto a sheltered picnic area. Rain for the night.

Jan. 28th – Pinto Creek to Tularosa Rd. (Outside Bracketville)

20 miles. Slow and grinding day, trying to get back in the groove of actually moving again. Toward the end of the day, 6 to 8 police, sheriff, and boarder control vehicles scream past us – apparently chasing down a white pick-up truck. A gaggle of law enforcement surround a pair of alleged criminals. We cycle by, trying to tend to our own peddling business. 

I’d like to comment here about a cute proclivity of Ance. She is so sweet and buttery, I’ve noticed that even with sirens and lights blazing (ambulances and cop cars) roaring down the highway at breakneck speeds, Ance will happily wave at them. It seems so funny to me, I am jotting it down. Could you imagine? You’re a police officer, peddle to the metal, chasing criminals, lights flashing, sirens screaming, going over gun training in your head and some blonde haired blue eyed helmeted cyclist smiles and waves at you? It makes me chuckle just thinking about it.

Jan. 29th – Tularosa Road to County Road 410

22 miles. Things are changing to green. The barren dry deserts we’ve gazed and embraced since Utah are breaking into forested hills, with trees and bushes. And, there is water flowing in some of the river beds. I feel like Moses after 40 days and 40 nights. Warm day. Stopped at the gloriously clear flowing Nueces River for a bath – first in 4 days. Ended day around 3 PM. Girls played in water for about two hours. 

Jan. 30th – Co. Rd. 410 to Wes Cooksy Park

11 miles. Short day, still easing back into it. Wonderful campground near the Nieces River. Another warm day. The hills and green are good for general morale. Ance and I took an unloaded ride into town for a supply run. During the ride my Kenda tire decided to start bulging out along the sidewalls on my rear wheel. Hope it makes it to Austin. Watched the Mask with Jim Carry – Augustine loves it, gotta love the ridiculous 1990s comedies. Rain came down in rental sheets starting at 4 AM.

Jan. 31st – Wes Cooksey to Leaky

26 miles. Woke to the aroma of wet earth and gray skies. The clear green-blue water of the Nueces bubbles over the walls of a dam. Endless clear cool sheets of crystal spool themselves out into the wonder of existence. It makes me think of dreams and memories, how they spill over the crested dam of our consciousness. 

Easy push through Camp Wood and a little beyond. Then we encountered some manageable rollies. Then there is this insanely steep shot uphill for 4 or 5 miles. We then careened downhill on a winding road surrounded by green.

About 3 miles outside of Leaky, Ance’s back tire blew out with a startling sound of a gunshot. This was no ordinary flat – the outer tire tread was blown to smithereens. We ended up calling the local sheriffs office. Two friendly and smily officers showed up to load up Ance’s bicycle and gear. I road the last few miles into town with the girls. 

We were setup with a place to camp (with water!) at the Leaky City park. The whole of Leaky doesn’t carry bicycle tires – so Ance and I work on the plan to get to Kerrville – the nearest place with a bicycle shop some 60 miles away. We are likely stuck here for at least another day.

Feb. 1st – Leaky to Kerrville, and back

120 miles, by borrowed car. Last night Kurt stopped by. He apparently heard of our plight – small town. He asked what size tire we needed. We roll with 26ers, which is now not so common in our blessed America. So he couldn’t help us out in that department. However, after I called the Kerrville bike shop to confirm they had tires that would work for us, I texted Kurt asking if he knew anyone going to Kerrville or if he knew anyone who might lend us their car for a little road trip. In short order, Kurt let us know we could borrow his car around noon.

We piled into the grandma gangster mobile – a 1998 four door Lincoln Town Car. Off to the big city like the country bumpkins we are. Stopped in at the bike shop, Chicken Express (for Kurt and family), and Wal-Mart. Jetted back to Leaky and handed off a 16 piece mixed chicken meal to Kurt for the car loan. Spent the evening putting a new front rack on Augustine’s bike, swapping out tires, and Ance headed to the local laundromat to wash our clothes.

Feb. 2nd – 4th Leaky to Lost Maples RV

15 miles. I cannot recall the last small stretch of milage that utterly beat my ass. This stretch bent me over its knee and whipped me like an insolent child of the 1970s, when it was still okay to have the neighbors discipline your progeny. Just outside Leaky, Texas hill country throws a vertical slap in the face, then lures you in with some gentle rollies, and then, in some sadistic mental gymnastics, you are shoved around with two  great walls of China that you are supposed to scale like some Tom Cruise Mission Impossible agent.

The day was wet and gray. Augustine was characteristically excited for strange reasons. At the top of both of the great walls, Augustine kept commenting with glee – “we’re in the clouds! Its so cool!” This while we’re getting soaked and beaten up with the climbs. She’s made of different stuff, that one.

It took 3 and a half hours to get to Lost Maples. We rolled into the campground and paid our 20 bucks for two nights. It is supposed to ice rain and blow tonight and all through tomorrow. High of 30 tomorrow. We won’t likely be traveling for a day or two.

While setting up our tent, MJ (Mary Joe) informed us that we had a cabin for two nights.  Apparently, she had worked out with the office manager and the owner to pay for two nights for us to sleep in-doors. This is bewildering generosity – the cabins are $100 dollars a night. I stand with tent stakes in my hands, not knowing what to do, while Ance talks with MJ in ecstatic and confused overtones. “She will come out in a little bit with the keys to the cabin.” There was no saying no, so we packed up our gear and headed to cabin 21.

MJ runs a food truck in front of the nearby Lost Maples Country Store. Unable to produce another outlet to express our gratitude, we stopped by to have a lunch of burgers, tacos, fries, fried mushrooms, and onion rings. All absolutely delicious.

As the temperature dropped, we heard the wind rattle the world from the warmth of a heated structure.