Lufkin → Lake Tombigbee → Port Arthur
Ah, finally i had a day in East Texas that didn't feel like a chore. I still got chased by a couple of dogs, but this time it was literally only a couple, and they gave up quick.
I headed into Lufkin in the morning where i found a Mexican bakery and got some pan dulces. I don't know the names of all of them, but they were all yummy, and a nice change from the donuts i have been forcing down every morning for cheap calorie purposes and little else.
I headed down the highway to Corrigan where i stopped for tacos at a mercado. At this point i'm actually looking out for non-Mexican places to eat to try make the Texas food post a little more interesting, but often in the small towns the only place that's open that isn't a chain restaurant is Mexican. Although still on my to-do list before leaving Texas is breakfast tacos. Apparently that's a thing here. I need to get them when i am camped in town somewhere.
But it's after Corrigan when things got interesting. Both Google Maps and OpenStreetMap pointed me down a back road to get to my destination - Lake Tombigbee on the Alabama-Coushatta Nation. I started down the road, which was a broad dirt road at the beginning, until suddenly it wasn't. In fact, the road disappeared completely and there was just an overgrown path heading into the pine forest. I ventured down there a little bit, but it started getting so overgrown i was worried about ticks or poisonous spiders, so i backed out and tried to find another route.
Fortunately all of the other roads that appeared on the map were actually navigable roads, although it was clear from the tracks that the only things navigating them since last rainfall had been ATVs.
Friends, i found myself in the middle of a hunting forest. I am very glad it wasn't the weekend, because i passed a half dozen private hunting camps with large "no trespassing" and "members only" signs. If you're wondering what a hunting camp is, good, because i had no idea either. It's a bunch of RVs parked in a ring in a forest clearing, like circled wagons. Ominous sign out the front. I imagine lots of ammo boxes nearby, but i didn't stop to check. As far as i could tell, nobody was home, presumably due to all the weekend hunters being back at work. There were trails criss-crossing the forest, some that showed up on my map as roads, and others that were just random ATV routes. Hunting blinds were set up on almost every power line or oil pipeline right-of-way. There were some private homes too, probably owned by the guys who rent out their land to the hunters. Google Maps told me one place was a gun dealer ("by appointment only").
As i zoomed through the forest, occasionally getting stuck in the soft sand, it occurred to me that hunters should really get into cycling. Imagine riding a fat bike through these forests! The only sound would be the hiss of the tires. They could carry bows instead of guns too. Sleep in hammocks. Silent fucking killer. These dudes could be like ninjas, or like the Predator. But - judging by the tracks and the litter - i imagine that instead they stink up the place with their ATV fumes and then crack and bang all morning with their rifles before heading back to camp to get drunk. Oh well.
Eventually i found my way out of the maze of twisty passages, and got back onto a sealed road. Then it was a short ride down to the rez where i checked in to the best campsite i have stayed at in Texas by far. It has dozens of tent camping spots, but i'm the only one in the primitive section tonight. ("Primitive camping" is the North American term for camping in a tent without an electric hookup. You know. What the rest of the world just calls "camping".)
It is extremely quiet and peaceful here. No highway noise. No party campers. Pine trees all around. I even have 3 bars of 4G reception. The toilets are clean. I think i'm going to have a good night.
-o-
Woo, this morning was wild. I woke up and it was still dark, because i was in the damn forest. Got out of the tent and the humidity was so thick you could practically wave your hand through the mist and snatch rain drops out of the air. There was no point waiting for the sun, so i had a quick breakfast, packed up and got back on the road.
To get to my next stop (somewhere around Beaumont), i needed to cycle through the Big Thicket. I turned onto a back road and plunged into the woods. It really felt like i was going into the heart of darkness. Dirt road. Deep forest on both sides. Hot, steamy fog, crushing you into the Earth. It was incredible. All the spider webs were shining with the heavy dew. Occasionally a logging truck rolled past. Otherwise, silence. Like i had been transported somewhere different entirely.
Even once i got onto a sealed road again, i pretty much didn't pop out anywhere near civilization for around 50km. The Big Thicket is thick and it is big. It is a dense jungle of pines and oaks and other flora, with a few swampy creeks running through it.
I mean, there are a couple of houses and settlements. I passed one place that actually had a school, but it was the creepiest school of all time due to the sign out the front: "our teachers will use necessary force to defend our students", which is a euphemism for "our teachers carry guns and shoot to kill". To most people in developed countries that must sound like part of a chilling long read about underground women's schools in Taliban-controlled Afghanistan, but in Bizarro World America putting guns in every classroom is somehow a "solution" to school shootings. Dear lord, if i had kids and my school district decided to institute a teachers carry guns policy i'd be moving them the fuck out of there quicksmart.
When i did pop out at a community that actually had a restaurant, i ducked in for lunch. It was an American restaurant with a southern/Cajun bent. I got a catfish po' boy, which is a type of sandwich from Louisiana. It was pretty good, but the real star was the fried mushrooms i got as the starter. They were thin sliced and had some texture to them, almost like a shiitake. I was very surprised to get something more interesting than a button mushroom.
The restaurant was in a town with something like 25% non-white residents, but everyone in the restaurant was white, which always makes me ponder. Then i saw the life-sized Trump cardboard cutout on the wall. And the TV tuned to Fox News, with closed-captioning, so diners wouldn't miss a minute of the propaganda.
The Trump worship out here is so weird. I don't know if these self-proclaimed freedom-loving patriots understand just how very much they look like the true believers in China who have pictures of Mao on the walls, and who leave the TV tuned to the propaganda networks to make sure everyone knows just how dedicated they are to bootlicking. It's so strange to encounter this sort of behavior outside of an authoritarian regime.
Anyway, i tipped well and then squatted outside trying to figure out if i should go to Beaumont or push on to Port Arthur. My original plan was to camp overnight in an RV park in Beaumont, then dodge the rain in a short and sweet cycle down to Port Arthur - which is only about 30km down the road - to stay in a motel before attempting the lonely road to Cameron, Louisiana. But the more i looked at the forecast, i just decided fuck it, i'll stay two nights in a motel. I don't want to get caught out like i did in Kansas if the storm arrives earlier than the 10am prediction. So i split the difference and headed for a motel strip near the airport, right on the edge of a neighboring town called Nederland.
The ride involved some hairy highway cycling (although i am fairly comfortable cycling busy highways after living in China) before the directions took me off down some Beaumont back roads. I didn't see a single white person in Beaumont. I don't know if that's because by avoiding the main thoroughfares and downtown area i avoided the neighborhoods where white people live, or if it's because white people never get out of their cars, but it did strike me as odd. I've heard some towns in the US are still very racially segregated, so perhaps that's what i was seeing.
After Beaumont, i booked it to Nederland along a mostly-empty strip of highway next to the railroad, which took me past a bunch of oil stuff, canals filled to the brim with fast-flowing water, and what appeared to be a prison. It's a strange landscape. A few houses are built on stilts, but only piddling stilts a few inches off the ground. Given how often hurricanes hit this part of the world i'm surprised they don't build several feet off the ground like houses in Australia.
Anyway, checked into the motel, walked to the gas station for some booze, ordered (American) Chinese food. I'm going to take a relaxation day tomorrow and watch the storm go by, then we'll see.
-o-
In other news, Y: The Last Man has been canceled after one season. I'm pretty bummed. It's the first show that got canceled since Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles that i really wish would've gotten a longer run (at least The Expanse got saved). I like that the TV show added a main character who is trans, and i like that the concept as a whole puts a gendered spin on the classic post-apocalypse yarn. I'm not sure if the audience really gets it. Perhaps following the glacial character growth of the last (pathetic) man left in the world isn't woke enough for modern progressives. It might've done better coming out 10 years ago.
I'm thinking about it because i'm in Nederland, which when i looked up on Wikipedia i discovered that sci-fi writer John Varley went to school here. His book Steel Beach was one of my favorite sci-fi books as a teen. It features a main character who changes their sex in a world where sex changes are unremarkable and gender in general is kind of amorphous. I'm sure modern-day readers would find some shit to complain about - not least the fact that, much like Y: The Last Man, it's written by a cis man - but it meant a lot to me. And not just me, one of the trans people i helped through their early transition back when i was still engaged in "the community" also found it really impactful. The whole idea is that gender - and sex - is bullshit. It's just, like, whatever. It shouldn't be a big deal when people change it. It's like changing your hair color, or your clothing, or getting a tattoo. It doesn't lean into the "born this way" narrative, which probably makes it problematic nowadays too. It's a world where anyone can be whoever they want, whenever they want, and they can change their minds if they like, or not, and that's okay. I think the people who make a big fuss over men are men and women are women or even trans women are women are all missing the point. Just let people be people. Treat them how they want to be treated. It's that simple.
Another sci-fi book that was incredibly impactful for me as a kid was Dune. It's also been criticized in the modern era for being too male-centered or written as a milquetoast criticism of colonialism through the eyes of colonizer, or what the fuck ever. But it mattered to me as a kid. It really shaped me. I've recited the Litany Against Fear. I've tried to walk arhythmically in the desert sand. I saw it as an epic story about the dangers of blind faith, how messiahs - or anyone elevated to a position of power - will always fuck it up. Organized religion is always a sham. Leaders will always use the people who follow them, chew them up and spit them out. And, through it all, native ecosystems and the culture of indigenous peoples will be disrupted, corrupted or destroyed. They're themes that are touched on in Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars series too, and plenty of other "environmentalist" sci-fi since. I feel like Frank Herbert kickstarted that whole genre.
And tomorrow i will go watch the second movie adaptation in the theater. Here's hoping my hangover isn't too bad to enjoy it. Although, oddly, the movies i most remember watching in the theaters were the ones i got too drunk to remember the movie, i just remember having a very silly time with friends.
Now i have no friends.
It is very late (early) and i am drunk. I never stay up late in my tent. Having electricity, a light and an internet connection changes my whole pattern of being. I don't think it's for the better.
-o-
It's just past 8:30am. I only slept 4 hours. Apparently my brain is still tuned to wake up at sunrise regardless. I got a bit of motel breakfast and then came back up here to watch some TV and... boom. Fucking weather alert on my phone. Tornado watch. Take shelter. The thunder is rolling and the rain is pouring. I am very glad i got into a motel for today. It's just a baby storm, though, so it should clear up in time to catch the Dune matinée. I should probably try snatch a few more hours sleep.
-o-
I did not snatch a few hours more sleep. Around 1pm i got tired of waiting for the storm to pass, so i put on my "i lived in Guangdong, ffs" pants, rolled them up, donned flip-flops and splashed my way through the puddles to the only place within a 2km radius that was not a chain. It was a Vietnamese hole in the wall in a strip mall past the mall mall, and their food was excellent. No tofu, unfortunately, but i had a char siu bánh mì and two thịt nướng spring rolls and they were glorious. Fresh, flavorful, wonderfully satisfying. When i went to pay i talked a bit with the waiter about my bike tour and then she started bubbling on about some dude she met on Instagram who has promised to be her sugar daddy when he gets out of the military. I feel like i keep meeting wait staff who are on much better drugs than me and i am jealous.
Then i walked to Walmart to try get supplies, and this Walmart was even sadder than the last three i have visited. I don't know what is going on in East Texas that their Walmarts are so thinly stocked. I saw a bit of the supply chain shortage up in Minnesota, but then for several weeks i had no problems finding anything. Now it's back again. It really seems to be a localized problem - not specific to certain stores, but specific to certain geographic regions. I guess it makes sense that places like Iowa and Kansas are fully-stocked, since pretty much all the truck traffic in America goes through there.
And then i hiked back to the shopping mall near the motel to watch Dune. Fucking. This has to be the worst place i have ever stayed in my life for pedestrians. Occasionally there is a sidewalk, but then it just ends at the end of whatever property decided to build a sidewalk and goes back to grass - sometimes maintained, sometimes not. There are no pedestrian crossings anywhere, and the roads are all two or three lanes each way. Wait, there is actually a pedestrian crossing under the highway, but it's the most absurd pedestrian crossing of all time, because it doesn't actually link up to any sidewalks. It's almost as if they just put the pedestrian lights in as a package deal, knowing that nobody will ever use them. The mall parking lot is almost a kilometer across, and almost completely empty of cars. And, after the storm, there were huge moats of water around most of the properties that made it impractical to cross, even with my pants rolled up and wearing flip-flops. I went through enough ankle-deep puddles on the edge of the road. It's just... insane. Like, completely and utterly pedestrian-hostile, in every way you can imagine.
But then i got into the mall itself, and half the stores in there were vacant. It was like walking around in a zombie movie. I spent 10 minutes walking up and down the mall looking for the movie theater, and when i finally found it, all the lights were off and there was no one at the ticket or popcorn counter. I could have just walked into a movie for free, but i felt weird, so i just wandered around with a baffled look on my face, in my wet, dripping flip-flops clutching a plastic bag of peanuts, dehydrated fruit and palanquetas. Finally a guy showed up and sold me a ticket to Dune, which had started 15 minutes earlier, but he assured me it'd still be previews. I went into the theater and i was the only person in the whole place. Like, the entire showing was just for me. I started at my assigned seat in the middle, but after about 5 minutes moved right front and center to get an IMAX-like private screening experience.
The movie was pretty good, although i wish they'd filmed the whole first book and not just left you hanging. I also think they missed a chance to do some really epic sunset cinematography. A lot of my Dune visual references come from the first computer game, which was a stunningly beautiful game at the time it came out in 1992, and still looks (and sounds) great today. It featured a really bold color palette inspired by the Lynch movie mixed with the sort of heavy-on-the-magenta raster bar-like skies that were popular in the computer graphics of the era. The spice was a rich orange, the eyes an electric blue, the skies - huge. Vast. A million different colors. It really was a world you could get lost in. But Villeneuve's Dune is much whiter and more stark, everything is pale and washed-out, and there are more sand shots than sky shots, which loses so much of what makes the desert magical. I think the lack of color makes it difficult for viewers to understand how the offworlders come to fall in love with Arrakis, in spite of its unforgiving environment. Dull cinematography aside, it was still cool to see a big budget take on the story, and i am glad i saw it in the theater. The sound effects were incredible, probably the best part of the film.
I grabbed a vege burger and fries for dinner, and now i'm back in bed planning to get a much longer sleep tonight than i did last night. I've been keeping an eye on the severe weather alerts for the Gulf Coast, and although there are gale warnings for sailors, i think cycling along 82 tomorrow should be reasonably safe (if a little gusty). There is pretty much nothing along that road until i get to Cameron, and by all accounts Cameron is a town that's been flattened by hurricanes over and over so there isn't much there either, but i am hoping it will be an exciting trip and that i can find a place to sleep down there. In the (sole) expensive motel, if all else fails. I just think that route will be more interesting than taking the inland highway, even if it's not the safest option.
Famous last words, i suppose.
I kinda hoped this motel stop would've uncovered some more interesting stuff to see for my last day in Texas, but all the motels around here are situated in utterly useless places for sightseeing on foot. Honestly, my review of Texas on a bike is "don't fucking bother", because although there have been some neat sections here and there that you probably wouldn't get to see in a car, it feels like so much more of the ride has been long highway stretches or smaller roads where you're unable to stop anyway due to all the aggressive dogs. And then you finally do find a safe place to pitch a tent, but then you're miles away from any kind of shops, restaurants or culture. Truly a hideously car-first part of the country.
I'll see if i can get another picture post in tomorrow morning before i go.
I headed into Lufkin in the morning where i found a Mexican bakery and got some pan dulces. I don't know the names of all of them, but they were all yummy, and a nice change from the donuts i have been forcing down every morning for cheap calorie purposes and little else.
I headed down the highway to Corrigan where i stopped for tacos at a mercado. At this point i'm actually looking out for non-Mexican places to eat to try make the Texas food post a little more interesting, but often in the small towns the only place that's open that isn't a chain restaurant is Mexican. Although still on my to-do list before leaving Texas is breakfast tacos. Apparently that's a thing here. I need to get them when i am camped in town somewhere.
But it's after Corrigan when things got interesting. Both Google Maps and OpenStreetMap pointed me down a back road to get to my destination - Lake Tombigbee on the Alabama-Coushatta Nation. I started down the road, which was a broad dirt road at the beginning, until suddenly it wasn't. In fact, the road disappeared completely and there was just an overgrown path heading into the pine forest. I ventured down there a little bit, but it started getting so overgrown i was worried about ticks or poisonous spiders, so i backed out and tried to find another route.
Fortunately all of the other roads that appeared on the map were actually navigable roads, although it was clear from the tracks that the only things navigating them since last rainfall had been ATVs.
Friends, i found myself in the middle of a hunting forest. I am very glad it wasn't the weekend, because i passed a half dozen private hunting camps with large "no trespassing" and "members only" signs. If you're wondering what a hunting camp is, good, because i had no idea either. It's a bunch of RVs parked in a ring in a forest clearing, like circled wagons. Ominous sign out the front. I imagine lots of ammo boxes nearby, but i didn't stop to check. As far as i could tell, nobody was home, presumably due to all the weekend hunters being back at work. There were trails criss-crossing the forest, some that showed up on my map as roads, and others that were just random ATV routes. Hunting blinds were set up on almost every power line or oil pipeline right-of-way. There were some private homes too, probably owned by the guys who rent out their land to the hunters. Google Maps told me one place was a gun dealer ("by appointment only").
As i zoomed through the forest, occasionally getting stuck in the soft sand, it occurred to me that hunters should really get into cycling. Imagine riding a fat bike through these forests! The only sound would be the hiss of the tires. They could carry bows instead of guns too. Sleep in hammocks. Silent fucking killer. These dudes could be like ninjas, or like the Predator. But - judging by the tracks and the litter - i imagine that instead they stink up the place with their ATV fumes and then crack and bang all morning with their rifles before heading back to camp to get drunk. Oh well.
Eventually i found my way out of the maze of twisty passages, and got back onto a sealed road. Then it was a short ride down to the rez where i checked in to the best campsite i have stayed at in Texas by far. It has dozens of tent camping spots, but i'm the only one in the primitive section tonight. ("Primitive camping" is the North American term for camping in a tent without an electric hookup. You know. What the rest of the world just calls "camping".)
It is extremely quiet and peaceful here. No highway noise. No party campers. Pine trees all around. I even have 3 bars of 4G reception. The toilets are clean. I think i'm going to have a good night.
-o-
Woo, this morning was wild. I woke up and it was still dark, because i was in the damn forest. Got out of the tent and the humidity was so thick you could practically wave your hand through the mist and snatch rain drops out of the air. There was no point waiting for the sun, so i had a quick breakfast, packed up and got back on the road.
To get to my next stop (somewhere around Beaumont), i needed to cycle through the Big Thicket. I turned onto a back road and plunged into the woods. It really felt like i was going into the heart of darkness. Dirt road. Deep forest on both sides. Hot, steamy fog, crushing you into the Earth. It was incredible. All the spider webs were shining with the heavy dew. Occasionally a logging truck rolled past. Otherwise, silence. Like i had been transported somewhere different entirely.
Even once i got onto a sealed road again, i pretty much didn't pop out anywhere near civilization for around 50km. The Big Thicket is thick and it is big. It is a dense jungle of pines and oaks and other flora, with a few swampy creeks running through it.
I mean, there are a couple of houses and settlements. I passed one place that actually had a school, but it was the creepiest school of all time due to the sign out the front: "our teachers will use necessary force to defend our students", which is a euphemism for "our teachers carry guns and shoot to kill". To most people in developed countries that must sound like part of a chilling long read about underground women's schools in Taliban-controlled Afghanistan, but in Bizarro World America putting guns in every classroom is somehow a "solution" to school shootings. Dear lord, if i had kids and my school district decided to institute a teachers carry guns policy i'd be moving them the fuck out of there quicksmart.
When i did pop out at a community that actually had a restaurant, i ducked in for lunch. It was an American restaurant with a southern/Cajun bent. I got a catfish po' boy, which is a type of sandwich from Louisiana. It was pretty good, but the real star was the fried mushrooms i got as the starter. They were thin sliced and had some texture to them, almost like a shiitake. I was very surprised to get something more interesting than a button mushroom.
The restaurant was in a town with something like 25% non-white residents, but everyone in the restaurant was white, which always makes me ponder. Then i saw the life-sized Trump cardboard cutout on the wall. And the TV tuned to Fox News, with closed-captioning, so diners wouldn't miss a minute of the propaganda.
The Trump worship out here is so weird. I don't know if these self-proclaimed freedom-loving patriots understand just how very much they look like the true believers in China who have pictures of Mao on the walls, and who leave the TV tuned to the propaganda networks to make sure everyone knows just how dedicated they are to bootlicking. It's so strange to encounter this sort of behavior outside of an authoritarian regime.
Anyway, i tipped well and then squatted outside trying to figure out if i should go to Beaumont or push on to Port Arthur. My original plan was to camp overnight in an RV park in Beaumont, then dodge the rain in a short and sweet cycle down to Port Arthur - which is only about 30km down the road - to stay in a motel before attempting the lonely road to Cameron, Louisiana. But the more i looked at the forecast, i just decided fuck it, i'll stay two nights in a motel. I don't want to get caught out like i did in Kansas if the storm arrives earlier than the 10am prediction. So i split the difference and headed for a motel strip near the airport, right on the edge of a neighboring town called Nederland.
The ride involved some hairy highway cycling (although i am fairly comfortable cycling busy highways after living in China) before the directions took me off down some Beaumont back roads. I didn't see a single white person in Beaumont. I don't know if that's because by avoiding the main thoroughfares and downtown area i avoided the neighborhoods where white people live, or if it's because white people never get out of their cars, but it did strike me as odd. I've heard some towns in the US are still very racially segregated, so perhaps that's what i was seeing.
After Beaumont, i booked it to Nederland along a mostly-empty strip of highway next to the railroad, which took me past a bunch of oil stuff, canals filled to the brim with fast-flowing water, and what appeared to be a prison. It's a strange landscape. A few houses are built on stilts, but only piddling stilts a few inches off the ground. Given how often hurricanes hit this part of the world i'm surprised they don't build several feet off the ground like houses in Australia.
Anyway, checked into the motel, walked to the gas station for some booze, ordered (American) Chinese food. I'm going to take a relaxation day tomorrow and watch the storm go by, then we'll see.
-o-
In other news, Y: The Last Man has been canceled after one season. I'm pretty bummed. It's the first show that got canceled since Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles that i really wish would've gotten a longer run (at least The Expanse got saved). I like that the TV show added a main character who is trans, and i like that the concept as a whole puts a gendered spin on the classic post-apocalypse yarn. I'm not sure if the audience really gets it. Perhaps following the glacial character growth of the last (pathetic) man left in the world isn't woke enough for modern progressives. It might've done better coming out 10 years ago.
I'm thinking about it because i'm in Nederland, which when i looked up on Wikipedia i discovered that sci-fi writer John Varley went to school here. His book Steel Beach was one of my favorite sci-fi books as a teen. It features a main character who changes their sex in a world where sex changes are unremarkable and gender in general is kind of amorphous. I'm sure modern-day readers would find some shit to complain about - not least the fact that, much like Y: The Last Man, it's written by a cis man - but it meant a lot to me. And not just me, one of the trans people i helped through their early transition back when i was still engaged in "the community" also found it really impactful. The whole idea is that gender - and sex - is bullshit. It's just, like, whatever. It shouldn't be a big deal when people change it. It's like changing your hair color, or your clothing, or getting a tattoo. It doesn't lean into the "born this way" narrative, which probably makes it problematic nowadays too. It's a world where anyone can be whoever they want, whenever they want, and they can change their minds if they like, or not, and that's okay. I think the people who make a big fuss over men are men and women are women or even trans women are women are all missing the point. Just let people be people. Treat them how they want to be treated. It's that simple.
Another sci-fi book that was incredibly impactful for me as a kid was Dune. It's also been criticized in the modern era for being too male-centered or written as a milquetoast criticism of colonialism through the eyes of colonizer, or what the fuck ever. But it mattered to me as a kid. It really shaped me. I've recited the Litany Against Fear. I've tried to walk arhythmically in the desert sand. I saw it as an epic story about the dangers of blind faith, how messiahs - or anyone elevated to a position of power - will always fuck it up. Organized religion is always a sham. Leaders will always use the people who follow them, chew them up and spit them out. And, through it all, native ecosystems and the culture of indigenous peoples will be disrupted, corrupted or destroyed. They're themes that are touched on in Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars series too, and plenty of other "environmentalist" sci-fi since. I feel like Frank Herbert kickstarted that whole genre.
And tomorrow i will go watch the second movie adaptation in the theater. Here's hoping my hangover isn't too bad to enjoy it. Although, oddly, the movies i most remember watching in the theaters were the ones i got too drunk to remember the movie, i just remember having a very silly time with friends.
Now i have no friends.
It is very late (early) and i am drunk. I never stay up late in my tent. Having electricity, a light and an internet connection changes my whole pattern of being. I don't think it's for the better.
-o-
It's just past 8:30am. I only slept 4 hours. Apparently my brain is still tuned to wake up at sunrise regardless. I got a bit of motel breakfast and then came back up here to watch some TV and... boom. Fucking weather alert on my phone. Tornado watch. Take shelter. The thunder is rolling and the rain is pouring. I am very glad i got into a motel for today. It's just a baby storm, though, so it should clear up in time to catch the Dune matinée. I should probably try snatch a few more hours sleep.
-o-
I did not snatch a few hours more sleep. Around 1pm i got tired of waiting for the storm to pass, so i put on my "i lived in Guangdong, ffs" pants, rolled them up, donned flip-flops and splashed my way through the puddles to the only place within a 2km radius that was not a chain. It was a Vietnamese hole in the wall in a strip mall past the mall mall, and their food was excellent. No tofu, unfortunately, but i had a char siu bánh mì and two thịt nướng spring rolls and they were glorious. Fresh, flavorful, wonderfully satisfying. When i went to pay i talked a bit with the waiter about my bike tour and then she started bubbling on about some dude she met on Instagram who has promised to be her sugar daddy when he gets out of the military. I feel like i keep meeting wait staff who are on much better drugs than me and i am jealous.
Then i walked to Walmart to try get supplies, and this Walmart was even sadder than the last three i have visited. I don't know what is going on in East Texas that their Walmarts are so thinly stocked. I saw a bit of the supply chain shortage up in Minnesota, but then for several weeks i had no problems finding anything. Now it's back again. It really seems to be a localized problem - not specific to certain stores, but specific to certain geographic regions. I guess it makes sense that places like Iowa and Kansas are fully-stocked, since pretty much all the truck traffic in America goes through there.
And then i hiked back to the shopping mall near the motel to watch Dune. Fucking. This has to be the worst place i have ever stayed in my life for pedestrians. Occasionally there is a sidewalk, but then it just ends at the end of whatever property decided to build a sidewalk and goes back to grass - sometimes maintained, sometimes not. There are no pedestrian crossings anywhere, and the roads are all two or three lanes each way. Wait, there is actually a pedestrian crossing under the highway, but it's the most absurd pedestrian crossing of all time, because it doesn't actually link up to any sidewalks. It's almost as if they just put the pedestrian lights in as a package deal, knowing that nobody will ever use them. The mall parking lot is almost a kilometer across, and almost completely empty of cars. And, after the storm, there were huge moats of water around most of the properties that made it impractical to cross, even with my pants rolled up and wearing flip-flops. I went through enough ankle-deep puddles on the edge of the road. It's just... insane. Like, completely and utterly pedestrian-hostile, in every way you can imagine.
But then i got into the mall itself, and half the stores in there were vacant. It was like walking around in a zombie movie. I spent 10 minutes walking up and down the mall looking for the movie theater, and when i finally found it, all the lights were off and there was no one at the ticket or popcorn counter. I could have just walked into a movie for free, but i felt weird, so i just wandered around with a baffled look on my face, in my wet, dripping flip-flops clutching a plastic bag of peanuts, dehydrated fruit and palanquetas. Finally a guy showed up and sold me a ticket to Dune, which had started 15 minutes earlier, but he assured me it'd still be previews. I went into the theater and i was the only person in the whole place. Like, the entire showing was just for me. I started at my assigned seat in the middle, but after about 5 minutes moved right front and center to get an IMAX-like private screening experience.
The movie was pretty good, although i wish they'd filmed the whole first book and not just left you hanging. I also think they missed a chance to do some really epic sunset cinematography. A lot of my Dune visual references come from the first computer game, which was a stunningly beautiful game at the time it came out in 1992, and still looks (and sounds) great today. It featured a really bold color palette inspired by the Lynch movie mixed with the sort of heavy-on-the-magenta raster bar-like skies that were popular in the computer graphics of the era. The spice was a rich orange, the eyes an electric blue, the skies - huge. Vast. A million different colors. It really was a world you could get lost in. But Villeneuve's Dune is much whiter and more stark, everything is pale and washed-out, and there are more sand shots than sky shots, which loses so much of what makes the desert magical. I think the lack of color makes it difficult for viewers to understand how the offworlders come to fall in love with Arrakis, in spite of its unforgiving environment. Dull cinematography aside, it was still cool to see a big budget take on the story, and i am glad i saw it in the theater. The sound effects were incredible, probably the best part of the film.
I grabbed a vege burger and fries for dinner, and now i'm back in bed planning to get a much longer sleep tonight than i did last night. I've been keeping an eye on the severe weather alerts for the Gulf Coast, and although there are gale warnings for sailors, i think cycling along 82 tomorrow should be reasonably safe (if a little gusty). There is pretty much nothing along that road until i get to Cameron, and by all accounts Cameron is a town that's been flattened by hurricanes over and over so there isn't much there either, but i am hoping it will be an exciting trip and that i can find a place to sleep down there. In the (sole) expensive motel, if all else fails. I just think that route will be more interesting than taking the inland highway, even if it's not the safest option.
Famous last words, i suppose.
I kinda hoped this motel stop would've uncovered some more interesting stuff to see for my last day in Texas, but all the motels around here are situated in utterly useless places for sightseeing on foot. Honestly, my review of Texas on a bike is "don't fucking bother", because although there have been some neat sections here and there that you probably wouldn't get to see in a car, it feels like so much more of the ride has been long highway stretches or smaller roads where you're unable to stop anyway due to all the aggressive dogs. And then you finally do find a safe place to pitch a tent, but then you're miles away from any kind of shops, restaurants or culture. Truly a hideously car-first part of the country.
I'll see if i can get another picture post in tomorrow morning before i go.