#marshall tx

Louie Gohmert, America’s Dumbest Congressman 8 years running, goes out of his way to defend the El Paso Mass Shooter from having Hate Crimes against him. No really.

Gohmert is so far on the Far Christian right he is defending Mass Shooters. Seriously Louie?

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 “New year, new me” How many times have you heard that? It’s a good mantra I guess. I kinda like the old me. Speaking of old, December brought yet another birthday. Forty-six so far (counting the actual day I was born). That’s forty-six New Years. While I don’t care for a new me, I did want to start my forty-sixth orbit of the sun off right. Elite Bicycles of Tyler was riding old Stagecoach road out of Marshall on day one of 2017. That sounded like the right I was looking for. My wife was on board. Let’s do it!  Marde and I were able to sucker our friends, Donald and Amanda into joining us. Scatter morning showers didn’t deter us. This was after all a rain or shine event. It was expected to clear up anyway. Loaded in my truck, we made our way to Lowe’s parking lot in Marshall. It looked mostly empty. A concerning sign for a ride scheduled to take off in fifteen minutes. Did we miss a memo? Perhaps a cancellation was necessary? Maybe they just moved the start time back a bit? There’s a truck with a bike on back! Hey, I recognize that truck too. If there was a memo, Tim didn’t get it either. As we are unloading bikes, Sam pulls up. Our group is growing. One after another, bike carrying cars begin pulling in. We are soon 20+ strong. With all the non squares in attendance, we rolled out of the lot and headed east on Poplar. The first ride of the year had begun!

From L-R behind me: Donald, Amanda, Tim, Sam.

 The damp air rushed across my body as the tandem picked up speed. I am glad I didn’t carry through with taken off my long sleeve shirt back at the truck. I had certainly thought about it. Much descending didn’t allow for warming up. The fact that we’ll be climbing all this later does cross my mind. Tandems are supersonic down hill machines. Marde and I coast through the group. We are passing people I know are my superior fitness wise. Thankfully arrogance is kept at bay with the occasional elevation correction. As soon as the road levels out or, Heaven forbid turns uphill, the Jones pair is put back in our proper spot on the cycling pecking order. Tandems don’t climb well. Lynette, on her single speed, eases past Marde and I on the climbs before we ease back past her on the next drop in altitude. Back and forth we go as we continue on Poplar towards Stagecoach.  At the start of Stagecoach, the stretched out gang of cyclist regroups. From here we say goodbye to the pavement. Dirt will be our friend for the next several miles. As per usual, the tandem finds it’s rightful place at the back of the pack. Here Marde makes a new friend. A Great Dane mix is walking the road. On all fours, he is tall enough Dirk Nowitzki could pet him without stooping over. Even though we are already behind our group, we must stop and scratch his ears before continuing on. 

We couldn’t NOT pet him...

 The dirt surface of the road is fantastic. Deep cuts in the landscape put us between tall clay walls as we pedal away from Marshall. A misty fog hangs in the trees all around us. A fitting look for a road some claim to be haunted. The ghost of fitness past is the only thing scaring me though.

Creepy and cool

Tires deserve dirt

 Mile eight brings the fork in the road that will make this ride a lollipop. An out and back with a loop in it. Large logging machines sit idle as the Lumberjacks are off for the holiday. A couple in the group bid us farewell as they turn back down the lollipop’s stem and head back to Marshall. We take the left fork towards Karnack and speed down hill. Once again the tandem gets delusional and weaves in and out of some faster riders. Soon enough it loses it’s gravitational advantage and falls back.

Eight miles in

 Regardless of how far back we fall, this Tyler group occasionally stops and allows us to rejoin. Even when I assure them it’s OK to drop us, they stop and wait. “I like the rest!” one claims. Even then, they give us time to rest once we roll up. Leaving one stop, a rider takes a tumble. It’s akin to tripping as you stroll down an empty hallway. The road is flat and featureless. He laughs it off and remounts his beautiful Salsa. With weight back on it, the front tire flattens out on the ground. Ah, there was something there after all. Not fully flat, it was suffering from a slow leak. Once we knew he had all he needed to get it up and rolling again, we opted to push on. Far slower, we knew he’d catch up with the tar fast tandem in short order. 

A few spots were flat

The bad kind of flat

Tim on a break away

 As we near Karnack, we are reintroduced to pavement. With asphalt comes faster speeds. Even though we are faster, so is the Salsa. As predicted, he passes us without struggle. A left turn takes us to a Family Dollar. Most find calorie replenishment. A few take advantage of the reheat opportunity. One guy reminds us duct tape is versatile. A lack of bike bags does not deter him from continuing on with powdered donuts, Pringles, and a cold one for later. I see a bike tour in his future with that kind of ingenuity.

Dollar pit stop

A powdered form of genius 

 The group prepares on the return trip back to Marshall. Realizing they were planning on simply retracing their tracks, Marde suggests continuing the loop we’d already started. It would actually be shorter. The group elected to split. The ones aching for more aching chose to return the long way back. Those of us gripped in a sense of leisure chose to finish the loop. They had the advantage of aggressive speed. We had the shorter route. 

Worth every pedal stroke

 The logging equipment marks the end of the loop. The faster group will also come by here from the other way. Marde and I wonder if they’ve already beaten us here. Like them, we will be backtracking for here back to Lowe’s. This scenery is worth seeing again. Hills we climbed earlier are now relaxing. Earlier coasting time are now quad burning pedal fests. As we near the end of our dirt road bliss, the fast guys pass us. Well, that answers that question.

This hill was easier the first time

    Back on pavement it is now just myself, Marde, Donald, and Amanda. A couple of miles later, we are back at my truck. Sam meets us there. He had told us about the Longhorn Ammunition facility earlier that day. We discuss it again. Talking about a future adventure at the end of this one. New adventures are not exactly new resolutions for us. It’s what we already do. New year, old me. I like the sound of that. 

Don 't mess with Texas.