As we stood there, a woman bicyclist came flying by in the opposite direction. The fact that she was moving so fast told me that I was gonna be moving that slow for the rest of the trip. She didn't have much to say, but she did warn me to watch out for the tumbleweed that the wind was blowing around. To make matters worse, when I had left Marfa, there was a sign that warned me of no services for 74 miles. Hell, there wasn't so much as a abandoned building in which to take cover if I needed to. I got a blue bandanna and covered my face, like a bandito, and headed into the misery of a headwind for the rest of the trip. I would guess that not even 100 vehicles passed me in the entire 75 miles. It was Easter Sunday, but no one was going to Grandma's house in Van Horn, I guess. (I got a late start because I went to mass in a neat little Spanish church, and Pam went to a service at another cowboy church. My excitement for the day (besides the dust and headwind), was a train that went by. I waved, and much to my surprise, he blew the train whistle in response. I guess it was so desolate, he figured nobody would hear I but me. The KOA in Van Horn was a welcome sight, and Pam was well on her way to having a nice Easter dinner prepared. We had a small ham she had bought, with all the fixins, and I ate enough for about three people.
|No caption needed!|