Day 84: August 26th 2009, Spicewood to Llano (42 mi, and then some)

My shitty Wal-Mart wristwatch changes the time on its own. According to it, it was noon when I woke up. The sun however, was not even on the horizon yet. No time for breakfast, stretches then, bust a move. Of course this is Texas and I was greeted by nothing less than the shittiest roads. 30 minutes into my skate a white truck pulls a u-turn ahead and waits.

"Hey man, you need a ride, thought I should help a fellow skater out."
"Fuck man, these roads suck, unskateable. Can you take me to the intersection with 281?" I had heard the road quality improved at that point, 8 miles ahead.
"Hop in man"

So I did, and after some conversating it turned out Al joined us for a couple of Monday night sessions in Austin. I recognized his white truck that followed us around as he taught his young son to bomb some pretty intense hills. Small world. We got to the intersection, I departed and he left me with his card.

"Let me know when you get to San Diego man, Ill come visit"

Things drastically improved when he dropped me off. The road was flawless. Big hills, smooth surfaces, wide shoulders and epic scenery. It gave me goosebumps. There were certain parts where there was no shoulder but the road was empty enough to be skated. I covered 30 miles in no time on the best skate I have had in Texas so far, probably the best since Memphis, and got to Llano at about 1130. Even though it was pretty hot, I learned that maybe headwind wasn't my enemy anymore. It was blowing slight enough where I could maintain speed and strong enough to keep me cool. In that 30 mile run, I consumed only 1 L of water.

I took a break in Llano and decided I should keep moving some more. It was too early to set up camp. Besides, the road still looked good. And so it also looked on Google maps all the way to Brady, 51 miles ahead. A mile outside of Llano, the fucking shit roads reminded me that this is still Texas. Terrible gravel, no way to skate this shit. It was faster and less draining to walk. The sun was out in full force now and it was taking its toll. I made it about 10 miles outside of Llano on empty 71. Every 5 minutes a car passed. Why oh why, did I not just set up camp? But who cared, I was going to be on this road anyway tomorrow. Right then with that thought, a Ford F-150 pulled up ahead, I got happy.

"Want a ride to Brady?"
"On these crap roads, Ill go as far as you'll take me on this road"
"Im headed to Sweetwater right on the Interstate, by Ablilene"
"Oh yeah?" I took my map out and searched. He saw my highlighted path
"You're headed to Big Spring?"
"Nah, Im actually going to San Diego"
"Well you wanna get in?"
"Yeah, sure"
"I don't have any room in the front but if you can handle the wind you got the truckbed"
"I can handle it"

On that ride, I had so many thoughts, bad ones. Especially the thought that I was cheating, again, or deceiving myself. Here I was taking another ride, more than 200 miles and I am supposed to be skating. So I have to apologize to all the people following this blog expecting to read about me skating not hitchhiking. I am sorry to all the people who told me my journey was an inspiration, I have failed you. Texas has beat me. Its roads take all the fun out of skating and it is so frustrating. I wish I had reached a point of discpline where I could just keep pushing through it, but I honestly can't. So many times I tried and it just brings me down, physically and emotionally. I hate these goddamned roads because they fucked up my skate and I am so disappointed in myself for giving in like this, but I'm nobody special. Austin was such a high, I should have seen a new low coming my way. My advice, do not skate through Texas, don't even take a roadbike. If anything, take a mountain bike, because the road is rougher than a mountain trail. I can't wait to get out of this fucking state and onto some skateable roads.

I got dropped off at a gas station on exit 247 on I-20. It was about 3. The kind old man with the ponytail never even told me his name. He offered to buy me a bus ticket to San Diego but I refused. He did insist on giving me $20, this time I couldn't refuse. He said he was taking care of his mother's will who had just passed a week ago in Sweetwater and she would be proud of him for giving me a ride and some funds. And I am sure that she is looking down on you smiling, kind old sir.

I had to accordingly change my route and after about 30 minutes of figuring it out, I would skate 8 miles to the town of Roscoe, 2 miles northwest of the interstate. The interstate was smooth as granite countertops. All the open farmland meant no appropriate spot to camp. I found myself laying out underneath the US-84 bridge next to some railroad tracks. I dont even feel like setting my tent up tonight. Some homeless person must have slept here not too long ago and he left a jacket I could lay on. I'm just going to sleep. From what I can see the road looks shitty for tomorrow. God give me strength.