On the eve of New Years Eve I made it to Del Rio, Texas. It had been hard work crossing the western plains and the rough and ready border town was a welcome sight.
1200 miles of riding across America culminating in the rough Texas roads had completely worn out the forks' suspension so I went to a bike shop to see if they could be fixed. They could not. However the bike continues to roll, it is just less comfortable.
Tim, the friendly and enthusiastic bike man, loved to see coast to coast cyclists coming through. He asked me if I was planning to stay 'with the Elks' saying bikers usually love to camp there.
I went to Elks Lodge #837 expecting a motel with a campsite only to be pleasantly surprised.
The Elks are members of a nationwide club, the lodge is their club house. They like to meet cross country cyclists and will let them camp on their grounds. With no campsite in Del Rio, this kind hospitality is a blessing for cycle campers passing through. After the long slog to reach civilisation, the chance to linger a while and take advantage of the town's services is much appreciated.
After putting up my tent I joined my hosts inside. The Lodge was somewhere between the 'Cheers' bar and a working men's club. A handful of middle-aged men sat at the bar enjoying a beer in the late afternoon whilst ladies chatted around a corner table.
Aside from enjoying a drink, the aim seemed to be to trump your friend by paying for the beers he had ordered before he could. Each man sat with a pile of dollar bills next to his glass so that he might be the first to get his to the bar tender.
It was a convivial atmosphere and, despite my dishevelled appearance after days on the road, I was welcomed like one of the guys. However being a visitor it was nearly impossible pay for anything myself. It seemed to be a point of honour for my hosts to cover whatever I needed.
Elks are quiet philanthropists. They get together and find excuses to give their money to good causes. They sell each other raffle tickets, have chilli cook offs and BBQs and put their change into collection boxes on the bar. They drink in the club, enjoy each others company and the profits from their socialising go to help American youth at risk.
It is in the same spirit that they advertised through the Adventure Cycling Association to offer camping to passing bikers. It is way of giving others a helping hand, optional donations from campers also go straight to the cause of the day.
For some reason from the outside I had not imagined groups with names like Buffaloes and Elks to be so noble. It was a pleasant surprise to discover their altruistic agenda.
* * * * * * * * * *
On New Year Eve I went into town to get supplies and wash my clothes.
The coin operated laundry is the domain of the poor and the drifter. For me it is a chance to encounter an oft ignored element of American society. People keep themselves to themselves but the introduction of a fumbling Englishman can often break the ice.
So it was when I met Jodie, a quiet and unassuming man in his forties.
Jodie and his father-in-law helped me operate the soap dispenser. We shared our stories whilst we waited for the driers.
Jodie was a rodeo man. He had ridden bulls for a living for nearly 20 years, but with his increasing age he had been forced to look for other options. He had taken up working on oil rigs for a while, this had taken him all over Texas.
You might not guess it to look at him but this guy was the archetypal Texas roughneck. Yet here I sat watching him neatly folding sheets and towels as he explained that he was going to be late for his wife.
They were newly wed and planning to settle down in Del Rio for a while. They met whilst she was serving an 8 year prison sentence, 4 years later she had just been released. The terms of her parole did not yet allow her to go to the launderette herself.
Since their meeting Jodie had followed his sweetheart around the country as she was transferred from one state penitentiary to another. He picked up work where he could.
In Washington DC he had broken horses for a living, keeping himself fit by running along behind the US troops as they exercised.
Now back in home in Texas this real life cowboy, a man of many talents, has joined the ranks of the unemployed hoping for a lucky break in troubled times.
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