All’s Well That Ends Well

College Station – Mannheim, TX

Some days are not as easy as others . . .

Our day started out with a lot of uncertainty. We knew we were heading toward Austin – but in terms of where exactly we would land today we had no idea. 

In general we use several different apps to figure out where we might go. First regular old maps. What towns are about where we need to go? In this case, we were going about half way to Austin, which is about 110 miles from College Station – at least by bike. Potential towns included Rockdale, Lexington and Giddings, among others. 

Once you find the general area and a town or two, you start looking for lodging options – be they camping, hotels or, on a day like today, anything that might work. You do Google searches. You look in the app The Dyrt (usually not much of a help – although it is the app that found us the mobile home park we stayed at with J.R. earlier in the trip). You look at Campendium – which purports to show some camping options. You look at Warm Showers – which almost never fills in big gaps like today. It’s great at college towns and other urban bastions – but there are very few hits in more rural areas. You look at Hip Camp – which can be useful but it usually involves biking 10 miles down an out-of-the-way dirt road to a beautiful piece of property along a creek or something – but with no water or other services. 

Anyway, today there were basically no hotels or campgrounds anywhere near where we wanted to go. I mean there were a few business type endeavors that came up in our searches. But they had names like Bubba’s Mobile Home & RV Park. Not super promising. Nevertheless, as we became more and more desperate we started calling these places. 

“Hello.” Somehow this neutral statement is made with the subtext of “What do you want? What the F?”

”Uh, we were wondering if we could camp there tonight. Like tent camping. Do you allow tent camping?”

”What!? No. We only have RV sites.”

”Could we stay in one of the RV sites with our tent?”

”No. We only have RV sites.”

The conversations would usually go on for a little while – but the ending is usually the same. It’s like these people all graduated from the Rochester School of Camping Philosophy. The basic thesis is that tent camping is one of the more evil things in the world and it should be eradicated at all costs. 

Eventually we decided to just head to a town called Caldwell – with the idea that we would continue our quest for a place to stay at that point . . .

So we head out of College Station. Our route takes us back by the University – which was good, because it was much nicer to see the University in the cool of the morning than it was during the heat of the afternoon. There were actually people around this morning and we snapped a few pictures of things we missed during the cauldron that was yesterday afternoon.

We head out past the presidential library, but somehow George Bush Avenue through the University gave way to some mega-road with on- and off-ramps and cars driving at the speed of Texas – which is roughly 83 million miles per hour. We re-check our route, but this is, indeed, where the bikes are supposed to go. I guess the only route with a bridge over the Brazos River. 

Eventually this road tames down a little and Google Maps tells us there is a turn in 50 feet. As we approach this turn I signal a stop – because I’m not seeing a road at all. Instead, there is the hint of a dirt path between farm fields. Diana asks if we are stopping to go to the bathroom . . .

After examining the maps a little, we come to realize that this is really the only choice . . . So we head down the little dirt path – and Diana is actually happy because we are once again surrounded by fully-formed cotton. Diana LOVES the cotton. 

“It’s so pretty,” she says. “And we’re so lucky to be here before it’s been picked.”

Miraculously, after about half a mile this path ends and we are on a beautiful road with the wind at our backs all the way to Caldwell. We head to the McDonald’s because a) it’s about the only show in town, b) they have air conditioning, and c) they have Southern Sweet Tea (which I am becoming addicted to . . . in a good way . . .)

An hour and a half later Diana identifies Elm Creek RV Park as a potential landing spot. They don’t really do tenting, and they have no fire grate type facilities, but they have water and showers and they’re grudgingly willing to accept us – for $65/night. Ouch.

For the first time on our trip we are forced to cook a camp-stove-only-dinner. Not our favorite. Worse, our food options are limited. The Country Store on the way to the campsite has frozen hamburger because they are part of some kind of ranch, but the vegetable options are canned green beans and canned corn. Not high on our fresh fruits and vegetables list . . .

By this time it’s super hot. I mean, super hot. The mornings and evenings are beautiful, but when the sun hits you in the afternoon it feels like you are basking in the glow of a nuclear reactor. 

Good for thawing out the burger anyway – but the time lost in the McDonald’s comes back to haunt us now. We ride the last 14 miles in the heat – but fortunately the wind is still at our backs and we cook – and I mean cook – along at a good clip.

When we finally arrive we find a place that has some depressing RV park stuff (people who live-here-and-it’s-not-pretty type stuff). But they only charge us $30, the showers are super nice, there are nice picnic tables, and we manage to make a pretty solid hamburger helper type meal out of the rice pilaf we saved from our Russian plov night, some muenster cheese we’ve been nursing along in the freezer bag for a few days, and the canned corn. 

And we’re half way to Austin. Looking forward to the bats, the bands, Barton’s Springs (apparently great naturally cold water swimming hole with no alligators – in this heat even I’m excited about that), the University, LBJ, and just a generally cool city.

I guess it’s true. All’s well that ends well . . .