Out Of The Frying Pan And Into The Fire

Day Seven: Plano to Abilene Texas

•         About 200 miles (we forgot to keep track)

•         6 hours

•         380 W to 67 S to 180 W to 351 S

•         temperature when we pulled off the road: 98 degrees and climbing

We dragged ourselves out of bed this morning at 5. That is an awful time of day to be awake when you’ve had such an indulgant night before. We checked the weather, and we realize that we need to be off the road by noon if we want to be under cover when it hits 100 degrees. We plan to get to Abilene today.

We’re on the road at 6:15. It takes us nearly an hour just to get out of the sprawl of N. Dallas. Just past Denton (where the Texas Women’s College is) the scenery suddenly changes to desert, officially. There are huge patches of prickly pear - each pad looks like a 10 toed foot. Low, swaying mesquite trees and sunflowers are what’s along the roadsides now. We see the idyllic Texas ranches with the huge gated entrances. Some of these ranches appear fancier than others-my favorite had gone through the trouble of inserting verticle mesquite branches through the fencing for about 3 miles. We see fields of seemingly healthy cattle, horses galloping in sage-y pastures and millions of pick-up trucks. Pick-up trucks might be the state vehicle.

By 10:30 we’re melting. We pull over to a roadside shelter (one picnic table with a shitty metal roof) to cool off. The highway is quiet except for a pick-up that goes by every 10 minutes or so. The wind blows, and it’s hot. I feel like we’re in a Mad Max movie. We realize that in our haste to get the hell out of Dallas we packed the saddle bags wrong and the computer is sitting in the saddle bag over the exhaust.

Let me digress and talk about our rig for a sec. You’ve already met R. Girl, The 2004 Yamaha V-Star 650 who is our ride and constant companion. She’s beautiful and I often imagine that she is a giant wasp flying us through the desert. Anyway, strapped to R. Girl are two leather saddle bags, a standard backpacking pack, a big fanny pack and two little leather packs (one on the handle bars and one on the fork). The saddle bag that’s over the exhaust keeps stretching out and wanting to sit right on the exhaust. Not good.  We keep strapping it so its sits up higher, and we’ve laid some heat resistant material across the bottom. And all of that is to say, we put the computer in the saddle bag over the exhaust and thought we’d really screwed up, but all was well.

I should also introduce the computer, from which all of these blog posts come. His name is Mariposa, and he is a flamey latino. He likes the Pirate better than me, as a woman’s touch does nothing for him. Ah, Mariposa.

 

Back to the ride. About 30 miles from Abilene we begin to see that we will pass through some of these enormous windmills that have, so far, been off in the distance. When we get closer, it’s the most surreal sci-fi beauty you can imagine. It’s like driving through a garden of 100 foot tall, stark white, 3 pronged pinwheels. They move slowly. They look alive. It takes us nearly 15 minutes at 70 mph to drive through them all. It is a stark contrast to the small Grapes-of-Wrath looking windmills that we’d seen up until now.

Abilene is the very definition of oasis. It is artsy, landscaped with many fountains, and humming with air conditioning. By the time we arrive, we are really fried. We get into street clothes and into a brewery as soon as possible. Lunch is a green chile burger and some locally brewed beer (a pale ale that did not impress the Pirate). We tried to hit the Center for Contemporary Arts that had an exhibit on body art, but they were closed. We made our way a few blocks over and checked out National Center for Children's Illustrated Literature. This happens to be a quiet love of mine, and I have a collection of illustated children’s books that I’m pretty proud of. Stumbling upon a museum like this is a lucky break. The exhibit currently in place is: Dancing By the Light of the Moon The Art of Fred Marcellino. It includes the original works that eventually made it into the books. I like the watercolors best.  Check it out:  http://nccil.org/exhibits/index.htm

From there, we get a hotel room and enjoy a very lazy evening complete with delivered pizza, cable TV and blogging. The high in the desert tomorrow will be around 105 again. We have a 5 am departure planned so we can make it to Carlsbad NM before noon.

Abilene: Cypress Street brewing,

Hotel. A/C blogging, dominoes.

Mohawks and Metro

Day Six: Ode to Bolsa

•         # of Bevins children toted on R. Girl: 3

•         # of reptiles swimming in the pool along with us: 2

•         # of mowhawks performed: 2

Our second rest day finds us with clean laundry, tans and full bellies. The Pirate and I hit the public librbary first thing in the morning to do our internetting, and otherwise we bum around the house. I gave the Pirate a mohawk (and of course Toren wanted one too). We ate. We napped.

            This evening we were treated to a beautiful meal at Bolsa, a fantastic restaurant and oasis of “real” amidst the suburban sprawl of  Dallas. Check it:

http://www.bolsadallas.com/

Our meal:

Flatbread wit hduck confit and fig

Flatbread with mint and zucchini

Strpied bass with lemon cous cous

Pulled barbeque chicken with beautiful beans

 

Petit Filet with mashed potatoes and gravy

Pork belly

 

Blueberry buttermilk pie

Brownie

 

Lemon poundcake with strawberries

Banana brulee

A heartfelt thank you to Bolsa owner and chef Graham and his enchanting wife Marissa.

Our First Rest Day

Day Five: The Bevins' Estate

•         hours slept: 12

•         time that The Pirate and The Mermaid rolled out of bed: 12:30 pm

•         # of hours by the pool: 8

•         # of Bevins children carted on R. Girl: 2

•         # of times the Mermaid left the premisis: 0

We are not traveling today, and it feels good. We have changed our clothes for the first time since NC, exchanging riding gear for kickin’ it gear. My feet have not had shoes on them all day. I think that we will not do another 400+ mile again if we can help it.

Torin

 

This entry will be about familia Bevins and the food they have made for us. First, the Bevins clan. Meet:

Talon

Tim: Papa and patriarch, a metal head artisan chef with ass length hair and infinite hilarity.

Shawna: Mama and Queen of this castle, a beautiful blue eyed brunette with a sweet southern accent and heart to match.

Gabrielle: Eldest child and only daugther.  She’s the princess, make no mistake.

Tim

 

Toren: Oldest son, comedian, illustrator and lover of reptiles.  A respectful observer who weaves what he sees into comedy and clever insight. We commandeered his room for our stay.

Tristan: Middle son, a quiet 11year old who already has a girlfriend. Responsible, considerate and neat and the dare devil dirt bike rider. The first of the brood to ride R. Girl.

Talen: Last but not least, this little man is no joke. At 4 years old he holds his own with plenty of charm to help you forget whatever mischief he’s up to. He’ll steal your heart and your candy.

Shauna and Gabby

When the Pirate and I finally roll our asses out of bed past noon, the house is empty. We make our own coffee and joyfully scarf the leftovers from the feast last night. Tim comes home panting from a run (“a pervet has broken in the house!” said the Pirate, before we could see who had come in the door)  and over the next hour or so the rest of the family gathered. We spend hours and hours poolside. Tim periodically dips into the house and reemerges with some fantastic treat. First: mecalatas, a concoction of Corona, jalepenos, cilantro, lime tomatoes, hot sauce and balck pepper. Then, watermelon salad with feta, olive oil, balsamic vinegar and basil. Then cornbread with strawberries and orange liquor, and so on. You get the picture. The final meal of the day is enchaladas with homemade sauce at 1 am.

Triston

At 9 pm I am still poolside, and the gaggle of Bevins’and The Pirate return from the local park. They have brought me gifts: lemon thyme plucked from the middle school gardens, a red eared turtle (promptly plunked into the pool) and a frog (also now in the pool). 

We are so happy to be here in the bosom of this wonderful family.

400 Miles To Dallas

Day Four: Greenville, MS to Plano, TX

•         433 miles

•         14 hours

•         82 W all damn day

•         # of dead armadillos on the side of the road: 13

•         # of times The Mermaid said “God damn it's hot”:  40536

            This entry begins at 3 am. We are sleeping soundly to the comforting white noise of the air conditioner when a voice wakes us up. I think it's outside, so I peek through the window- nothing.  R Girl is resting peacefully, and no one is out. I climb back in bed, and again the voice; a strange gravely female voice. We realize that it's coming from the room next door, with whom we share a door ( a room dividing door that is of course locked, but that has about 2 inches between the floor and the bottom of the door.) Over the next 30 minutes the voice amps up to full tilt demonic raving.  I'm totally freaked out.  It literally sounds like there’s  a demon next door loosing its mind. I then realize that I'm hearing a real live crack head for the first time, or someone having a bad schizophrenic episode. Yuck. The Pirate scoops me up and cradles me in his arms (awww....) and we sleep (sort of) another hour before we decide to go. We had planned to leave at 5 am anyway. We gathered our things, staged them by the door, and made a run for it. It felt like that movie, Legend, where zombies come out once the sun goes down. We're on the road speeding out if this crazy town within 5 minutes. I'm not one to think things like this, but I gotta say, the devil's got that town.

Zapatas

 

            By 6 am we're crossing the Mississippi river, and it's gorgeous. There's a  huge bridge with 3 or 4 gigantic upward pointing triangles that look like sails made of cables. The sun is rising behind us making the sky all peachy and pink. We're in Arkansas now, and we're in for a ride today. We plan to do 400 miles to get to Dallas so we can have a nice long visit with our friends and also some well deserved rest.

            The ride between towns Mist and Strong  is really beautiful. We passed through the Felsenthal Wildlife Reserve, a peaceful swampland which, to a freshwater mermaid from mountain streams, looks exotic indeed.  We see our first “big sky” by the middle of Arkansas. It looks just like the window wall in Lisa Mandle's Neighborhood Studio with the horizon being a faint blue and then gradually deepening upward. Big, white, story book clouds sit perfectly still all over the sky. The flocks of white egrets, which distinguish central Arkansas for me, look like clouds that decided to sprout wings so they could ge closer the fields.

Texarkana

            By noon we are to the border of Arkansas with over 200 miles behind us. We take a break in Texarkana, another seemingly abandoned town but without the creepy vibe. We do the library first, then a Tex-mex lunch at Zapatas grill: tamale, brisket taco with green sauce and crawfish stuffed chile relleno. Oh yes.

 

Ace of Spades House

            Over the course of our delicious lunch, the temperature outside goes up about 300 degrees. Our post lunch architectural excursion turns out to be a bit of an energy draining mistake. The buildings in this town are so intriguing. Beautiful tile details, concrete frills, wedge shaped structures and abundant 40's charm make Texarkana a worthy place to visit. Promise. Plus, the town is divided by the 2 states, so you can get from TX to AR by walking across the main drag. Anyway, after walking around about 15 minutes we end up napping under a big gum tree in front of a church. From then on we are a hot, tired, brain fried pair of idiots.

 

            For the rest of the day we ride through 96 degree heat. About every 30 miles we have to stop just to cool off in some A/C. The morning 200 miles took us 5 hours. The afternoon 200 miles took us 9.

            It's 10:30 pm before we pull up to the Bevins' household in Plano (NE of Dallas proper). We are greeted by 2 of the Bevins boys, Tristan and Talen, who are waiting for us on the corner. They run along the sidewalk beside us (we clocked 4 year old Talon at 10 mph) and give us the warm Texas welcome we'd been looking forward to all day. Talon runs into the house and shouts “They're here! They're here!” and out come Tim and Shawna, ready with another round of hugs.

            The next 2 hours are spent swimming in the tiled pool and indulging.  There is, of course, a welcome feast: duck eggs, warmed olives with lemon peel, crusty bread, sesame zucchini tapenade, pickled vegetables, feta cheese and watermelon. By 1 am we're in bed, and with no crack heads in sight, pass out cold for the next 12 hours.