Over the Hill and Far Away……….

We spent the latter part of last night watching news reports of the tragic events in Oklahoma. We seem to be just outside of the extreme weather zone and the worst we got was a rather cool and overcast start to the day. The trees outside our hotel room were swaying in the strong wind so we were quite glad that we were not going to be riding in it.

After a rare and luxurious lie-in we wandered over to the enormous Walmart store which is just across the lot from the hotel. It literally seems to sell everything from car tyres to fruit. It would probably be quite possible to adopt a life as a hunter-gatherer and live out one’s days there without ever getting caught. Shotgun shells (which are very competitively priced I have to say) are openly available on the shelves although the rifle and handgun ammunition is kept in locked cabinets. I offered to buy Mark a gun rack for his bike but he was surprisingly unenthusiastic. I bought an entire new outfit for $30 dollars (although now people point at me in the street and mutter “he buys his clothes at Walmart”).

We then went back to the hotel where we got a cup of coffee and a tea. The latter came in the form of a paper cup of hot water and a tea bag. After some negotiation something resembling milk was obtained but there was nothing to stir at with. It was at this point that the scissors Mark had purchased at Walmart came in handy as a tea stirrer.

Thus fortified we then walked the mile and a half or so to the Buddy Holly Center. Again we were the only pedestrians about who did not look like they would be sleeping in a doorway that night. It is a life-enhancing experience scampering across a six lane highway to get from one block to another. However it has to be said that the car drivers are extremely courteous and will stop to wave us across a junction whether we want to go across or not!

The grid pattern is at last starting to make some sense to us with the north-south roads being alphabetised and the east-west are numbered (our hotel is between 8th and 9th Streets on Avenue Q). So the Buddy Holly Center is on the block between 18th and 19th on, err, Crickets Ave (Ok, the system isn’t perfect).

The Center was well worth a visit if you have any recollection of Buddy Holly. I was shocked to realise that he died when I was 6, when he was only 22 years old.

After that we were back to the hotel and after a session in the gym and laundry we were again retracing our steps to the Triple J. Once more we fell into the trap of ordering starters which turned out to be the equivalent of a main course for a family of 5. Our digestion wasn’t helped by having already tucked into the very fine Pilsner that they brew on the premises. American pints are only 16 fluid ounces as opposed to ours which are 20 so it doesn’t seem as naughty somehow.

Our waitress was studying nutrition at Texas Tech. She assured us that we were eating healthily with all the major food groups represented. However when asked to estimate how many calories there were on the table in front of us she started to look shifty and suddenly noticed that another table required her attention! However, that aside, I can certainly recommend the salmon steak cooked on a piece of cedar wood as a main course providing you pass on the starter.

The plan for tomorrow is to get to Boise Oklahoma, weather permitting. We have to head north from here anyway so we’ll keep a wary eye on the skies and see how far we get. At the moment the weather forecast looks OK so fingers crossed we should be in yet another state tomorrow.

It was another hot and sunny morning as we set off to realise one of the objectives of our trip – Lubbock in Texas!

Heading east on Highway 380, the first ninety miles or so were across the high desert that reminded us somewhat of the North York Moors. We stopped for fuel in a small town called Tatum which seemed to be little more than a gas station and some deserted buildings. The journey was through ranch country where cattle rearing seemed to be the main industry. There is also a lot of small-scale oil production with “nodding donkey” oil pumps and small storage tanks dotting an otherwise flat and featureless landscape. There was something rather sinister about the nodding donkeys, which resembled large predatory, primeval birds (or at least they did to me – I must have been on the road too long). Despite the apparently vast size of the ranches the domestic buildings seemed quite small which is probably a reflection of the low productivity per acre.

After about 90 miles we saw a small sign signifying the Texas border so we pulled up and engaged in a photofest. We then became embroiled in a orgy of politeness about who would have the honour of crossing the border first. “Go on old chap, it was your idea.” “No no, I insist you must go first.” Anyway eventually we got across and like Hillary and Tensing we have agreed never to divulge which of us was first. (but I can say that I was the last to leave New Mexico).

It was surprising how much the landscape began to change after we crossed the border. The towns looked more established and prosperous, there was more evidence of irrigation and agriculture and Baptist churches started to spring up everywhere.

After another 80 miles or so we arrived in Lubbock, the home of Buddy Holly and probably the furthest point east that we will go. We booked into the Holiday Inn along with large numbers of proud parents here for their children’s college graduation day.

We then embarked on the customary “let’s find a bar and somewhere to eat” odyssey. Many of the towns we have stopped in are laid out in a widely spread grid pattern with no discernible centre. Lubbock was no exception. Residential, business and social areas seemed to be mixed up at random. We set off walking in what we thought might take us to the central area but soon found that we were more likely to get a tattoo than a drink in the areas we passed through. At one point we thought we saw a bar called “Freedom” but it turned out to be the offices of a bail bondsman!

Eventually Mark decided to ask directions from the only other pedestrian we had seen on our travels. He couldn’t have been more helpful and not only gave us directions but even decided to accompany us and entertained us with a vibrant conversation which seemed to involve Greyhound buses, cigarettes and his need for a drink. It was at that point that we decided we might be better off left to our own devices and swiftly reversed course with him still following us offering further advice. As luck would have it we then found ourselves approaching the police headquarters which caused our erstwhile companion to take a sharp left while we went on to seek directions from two heavily armed plain-clothed cops who had popped outside for a quick smoke. They pointed us in the right direction and we soon found the Tripple J, a micro-brewery and steak house, which satisfied our every need.

We walked back to the hotel from the bar. The wide streets were almost completely deserted (with the exception of a man pushing a shopping trolley full of scrap metal). It is really hard to get used to the way that an auto repair shop, someone’s home, a popular bar and a derelict building can all occupy the same city block and there seems to be an absence of a “town centre” as we would understand it although the “Depot (pron “deepoe”) District” does seem to be the home of the resaurants and bars. I assume it is named for the Greyhound Bus Depot

We’re now back in the hotel planning the next stages of our journey. We picked up another hour on the journey east. We are now on Central Time which means that we are now only 6 hours behind the UK.

By the way, the Gene Pitney fans among you will be fascinated to know that in Lubbock we are in fact “24 hours from Tulsa”. It is also interesting to note that no-one we have met out here so far seems to have heard of Gene Pitney.