I think I’ve figured out why I keep going on long bike tours: The final days and weeks are invariably the best, while most of the travails happen in the first week or so. On last year’s tour, virtually all the bad weather and mechanical problems happened in the first four days. My big crash this year came on the third day on the road, after a night of miserable rain, cold and finally snow. On previous tours, there have been many blown tires and aching muscles, a mudslide blocking the road, downpours and strong headwinds, noisy campground neighbours, heavy traffic and/or no shoulders – always right at the beginning of the tour. This year I asked myself, more than once, whether I was getting too old (at 64) for this stuff. Then would come exhilarating experiences like those of the final weeks, and the bad memories all fade into the mist.

The Texas Hill Country extends for more than 100 miles in every direction from Austin, the gem at its centre. Though seldom more than 300 feet higher than the valleys, the hills and ridges provide ever-changing vistas of oak savannah, grasslands, farms, livestock, occasional luxury homes, old homesteads, historic towns and sites, and oddities such as a “sculpture ranch.” Back roads provided welcome relief from roaring traffic and highway shoulders. As I’ve mentioned earlier, the thriving cycling culture of Austin was a delightful contrast to the loneliness and vulnerability I often felt elsewhere in Texas. So I arrived at my final destination in the Houston suburbs and flew home with a feeling of exhilaration, eager to start planning the next tour. Because of work commitments, it may not be possible to get away until next winter. Houston to Miami? Why not? Maybe Europe in 2011?

You can see the transition in the tour’s dynamics in the photos I’ve posted at http://picasaweb.google.com/robert.d.bott/NewMexicoTexasBikeTourOctNov2009# and if you missed my account of the Oct. 21 crash, the article I wrote about the experience can be found at http://www.guadalupecommunicator.com/?c=117&a=1413

Since my last post for this blog, written on the Amtrak train from San Antonio to Fort Worth, I visited my cousin David there, took the Trinity Rail Express to Dallas and the Greyhound back to Austin, and completed the tour with a pleasant four-day ride from Austin to Katy, a suburb nearly 30 miles west of downtown Houston. After further visits with friends, I flew back from Houston to Calgary Friday just in time for the chaos after a snow and ice storm. It took hours to find a (shared) taxi at the airport and get home through streets littered with abandoned cars.

The highlight of the final week was the ride from Bastrop to La Grange, though all the days were pleasant except for a brief shoulderless section of busy four-lane highway near the Austin airport.

I now carry a little netbook computer (Asus EEE PC) on my bike tours and just go to the Globe and Mail website, and others, to keep up with news. On the morning I left Bastrop, I was waiting for the fog to lift – literally and figuratively -- when I happened on an article about historic trees, a subject of great interest to some of my forester friends in Alberta. It was a perfect introduction to several hours riding through a unique forest in Bastrop and Buescher state parks -- about 50-60 miles east of Austin, Texas -- including the Lost Pines, the westernmost occurrence of loblolly pine, 100 miles from the edge of their contiguous occurrence in the "Piney Woods" in East Texas and more easterly states. The pines are part of a mosaic of oaks, shrubs, grass and flowering plants -- a marked contrast to the surrounding landscapes of oak savannah and grassland prairie. The forest is important habitat for pileated woodpeckers and the largest remaining population of the endangered Houston toad.

According to the park brochure, one legend has it that American Indians moving to this area planted the pines to remind them of their homes further east. However, that seems fanciful; the pollen record indicates the species has been in this area for about 18,000 years. It is more likely they are remnants of forests that retreated as the climate became drier. Ideal soil conditions -- sand and gravel over clay, with ample near-surface groundwater -- allowed the pines to continue to thrive in an area of about 30,000 hectares. They have become genetically unique and are adapted to 30 per cent less rainfall than most of the other loblolly pine forests. Texas Parks and Wildlife uses prescribed burns to reduce fuel loads and conserve biodiversity.

The parks, located about 10 miles apart east of Bastrop, were established in 1933, and most initial work was done by the Civilian Conservation Corps during the Depression. Many of the CCC buildings, dams, culverts, bridges and fences are still in use, the stonework blending harmoniously with the landscape. I saw many walkers and cyclists enjoying the parks and the peaceful, well-paved (though hilly) road connecting them. Bastrop State Park is listed as a National Historic Landmark.

After that delightful interlude, I had lunch in the well-preserved downtown of Smithville and continued to La Grange. Although there were several big motels along the highway skirting La Grange, I chose instead to try the humbler Oak Motel near the downtown square. It was a fortuitous choice – the first positively “bike-friendly” motel of the tour. The proprietor greeted me with a big smile, a bottle of chilled water and a granola bar, and he invited me to sign a bicycle guestbook with scores of entries from around the world who have stayed there. Apparently La Grange is the mid-point for some popular group rides from Houston to Austin and is also a logical stopover for many independent tourers. To top it off, there was an excellent Mexican restaurant just down the road.

From La Grange to Katy, well-paved, low-traffic roads took me through the quaint town of Fayetteville, rather ugly Bellville (though with another good Mexican restaurant) and the transition from Hill Country to the coastal plain. By the end, I was quite ready to keep on riding if it were not for plane reservations, work and ski season.

Final tally for six weeks: 841.9 miles of pedaling, 200 miles in sketchy pickups, about 280 miles each on trains and Greyhound, plus sundry walking, city buses and short rides in the cars of friends and relatives.