On day three we awoke to a very upset wife/mother in our campsite! Despite our best efforts, none of our messages stating that we were ok made it home the day before. In a bit of a panic, my wife spent the better part of the night driving the roads and highways of south Texas looking for us. I am sure she thought my harebrained bike tour idea had landed her only son in a hospital or worse. Actually, at this point, I was a bit worried that my harebrained bike tour idea might land me in the hospital.

After a long while, we were able to explain that we really had tried to call (several times) and we were not really all of those names she had called us (in her mind of course). Between that and seeing for herself that we were indeed safe and sound, she had calmed down and we discussed our plans.

I must admit, by this point, I was done. The ride was harder then I imagined, the weather was hotter then I expected, and my life partner was ready to shorten the contract. I gave up. I reluctantly told my son that the tour was over. We had tried, and failed. Maybe next year… or something like that. While we packed up camp and generally moped around, my wife drove back home and got the truck. When she returned, we packed up the gear and the bike and silently drove home. Defeated..

… All through the drive home, and throughout the rest of the day, our defeat (such as it was) hung heavy on my mind. We really were doing “ok”. Yes, it was a bit more difficult then I had hoped. Yes, it was hotter then I liked. And, yes, I had given up. But, did we really have to quit? After talking it over with my son (and turning it over in my head) we decided to press on. We would reset the clock to day two. In the morning, we would start from our campsite a Canyon Lake and continue on. With the decision made, I went to bed and slept through the night.