Wheeler, Texas

We rode 63 miles this morning before we hit Texas. Like yesterday, it was just a straight shot on rt. 152. Again I didn't get a cue sheet because we had no turns on our travels. That can get monotonous, so we played a bunch of cool games to keep our minds busy and make time fly. Riding is really enjoyable when you're not stuck thinking about each pedal stroke. The first game we played was called 20. Kelsey, Mac, Alex, Allison, Myself and Sara counted to twenty each taking turns to say the next number. When you reach 20 and complete the sequence, you get to change a number to a phrase. We played with a Texas theme today so everything had to be changed to comply with some stereotypical rodeo cowboy motif we had of the state. So if we changed number three to Houston, we would say 1, 2, Houston, 4. By the end of the game our numbers looke like this:
1. Death penalty
2. W (dub-yah)
3. Name a Texas city
4. Lonestar
5. Save a horse, ride a cowboy
6. Brian, gimme a piece of yo' meat.
7. (pass)
8. Kenzie, check me for ticks
9. Yeehaw (with a butt slap and lasso swing)
10. I wanna be a cowboy baby
11. Ten gallon hat
12. Longhorns (with hand signal)
13. Remember the Alamo
14. Farm animal noise
15. Howdy y'all
16. Bang! (with hand shooting action).
17. (pass)
18. Boot scootin boogie
19. Everythings bigger in Texas
20. Blowhole! This is the last number done where we take a sip out of our camelbak and blow it into the air so it goes into the cyclist behind us. Before we knew it we had hit mile 14 where we immediately started playing the next game of country music name that tune. We would speak a phrase slowly and everyone else would have to sing the song. After that we played questions where you get a really sweet question to ask someone. They answer it and then ask a question to someone else. The next game is called superlatives where you decide who wins a proposed superlative from the trip. Someone would say something like "most likely to do bike and build again" and everyone would state the person to match up best with that. Of course as we went on, the superlatives got much more elaborate. In no time at all we were at mile 63 and had reached the Texas state line. Definitely the highlight of the day was doing the Boot Scootin' Boogie with everyone at the welcome to Texas sign. Sara and I spent last night
learning a country line dance and then teaching it to everyone so we could do it at the hodown and the state border today. Practice paid off and the group really looked smooth with their Dorothys and grapevines and had fun doing I too. Texas is a whole different country. Immediately when crossing the border. There were oil drilling platforms, wider breakdown lanes, and a landscape that was absent of layered red soil mounds. The grass was sharper like it was made of splinters and only pickup trucks and semis passed us on the road. There were no coupes or sedans, just big trucks with big wheels. We even got shuttled to showers today in the back of a pickup. Right when we got into Texas, there was a roadside BBQ. It was just a man in a smoking trailer who came out of the shack to yell at us to try some food. We got brisket and pulled pork and had our first delicious taste of Texas BBQ. We got a double dose because dinner was brisket with BBQ sauce, coleslaw, and potato salad. What a treat to continue being served regional specialties where ever we go. The kicker in this scrumptious meal was the dessert. There we cookies, cobblers, casseroles, and a peach tortilla tart. I tried everything and ended up eating a huge bowl of cherry and blackberry cobbler. It was just out of the oven and warm and everything a dessert should be and more. Since every town in the last 900 miles has had an antique shop, I figured it was about time I visited my first one. I was not disappointed by the display of odd trinkets and various glass pieces on old furniture that I almost fell into several times. I always look foward to interacting with locals so I started chatting it up with the two ladies working in the shop. After I spoke about two words they said "you look like a Texan (I was wearing my authentic straw cowboy hat) but you sure don't sound like one. Where's your accent from?" They guessed New York City and I told them CT. We had a nice talk about the trip I'm on which kind of worked them up for a ten dollar handmade cowboy boot purchase I made. One of the ladies was explaining that to be a true Texan I needed bob in my name. She told me of all her friends who have added the name so Jim becomes Jim bob and etc. She was saying this in a thick slow southern accent and serious as anything. She suggested I go by Brian Bob. Texas is everything I thought it would be and more.