They say if you want to make the universe laugh, tell it your plans. Today, the universe didn’t just laugh—it threw us a surprise party.
The Morning Switch-Back
Our day started with a lesson in humility at 6:00 AM. Jeff and I marched toward the local mini-mart, snubbing the motel coffee in hopes of a “gourmet” gas station brew. The joke was on us: the doors were locked until 7:00 AM. We retreated to the Cowboy Motel with our tails between our legs, only to discover the first “shocker” of the day—the in-room drip coffee was actually… good.
That winning streak continued at the buffet across the street. We went in with low expectations and came out fueled by scrambled eggs that actually came from a shell, biscuits that achieved the “crisp-outside-fluffy-inside” golden ratio, and a cinnamon roll so decadent we had to go back for round two.
Rain, Rhythm, and the Hill Country
As we swung our legs over the bikes to tackle an 80-mile day with 3,800 feet of climbing, the sky decided to join the “Surprise Team.” A cold, unpredicted rain began to fall, dropping the mercury to a brisk 53 degrees.
But there is a specific kind of magic in riding through a wet landscape. The world felt hushed and private. Fog clung to the hillsides like pulled cotton, and even as we traded the flat plains for the relentless, rhythmic rollers of Texas Hill Country, the scenery remained breathtaking. By the time the clouds parted at the 40-mile mark, we were chilled to the bone but captivated by the view.
From Safari Sightings to Somber Reminders
The afternoon offered a strange and beautiful contrast. On one hand, we felt like we’d been teleported to an African savanna; huge private hunting ranches lined the road, filled with exotic game we never expected to see in the heart of Texas.
On the other hand, as we followed the winding Guadalupe River, the landscape turned somber. You can still see the scars and debris from last summer’s devastating floods. Seeing the memorials to those lost along the riverbanks was a heavy, quiet reminder of the power of the nature we spend our days immersed in.
The Ultimate Finish Line
To shake off the chill, we found a literal oasis about five miles outside of town: Lift Coffee. A perfect Americano and a world-class pastry can do wonders for a tired cyclist’s soul. Warm and caffeinated, we coasted the final stretch into Kerrville.
But the day saved its best trick for last. When we rolled into the hotel, Jeff got the greatest surprise of the trip: his wife, Kirsten, had driven in a day early to meet us. Ending a long, wet, hilly ride with family and a celebratory dinner was the perfect capstone to a day defined by the unexpected.
It turns out that when you stop planning for perfection, you leave plenty of room for magic.