Four weeks. 28 days. Roughly 1.2 million pedal strokes (don’t fact-check me on that). It is hard to believe we’ve been rolling across the country for a solid month. Tomorrow morning, we roll out of this hotel, and by the afternoon, we will be officially rolling out of Texas. Now, don’t get me wrong, Texas has been a grand host, but after 17 days of Lone Star horizons, we are all ready to see what the next state line looks like!

The Great Coffee Crisis of 2026
Before we could conquer the road, we had to survive the hotel “coffee.” I use that term loosely. It was a dark, confusing liquid that defied the laws of chemistry. We tried adding hot water. We tried adding cream. We probably should have tried an exorcism.

Nothing worked. It was officially un-consumable.

Jeff, acting as our tactical beverage scout, found a beacon of hope just a block off-route: The Crossing Coffee Shop. With the promise of actual beans in our future, we did the only honorable thing and dumped that hotel murky swill down the drain where it couldn’t hurt anyone else.

The Mascot Dream Team
With the “biological hazard” disposed of, the crew geared up:

Eddy: Secured to my trunk bag (The Mascot/The Legend).

Randall: My Marfa-born buddy, riding shotgun on the handlebars.

Harold: Snugly tucked into the bento box (sent with love from the Herz family).

We rolled out at 8:00 AM sharp, fueled by the dual motivation of outrunning a brewing storm and the desperate need for a Cold Brew. The Crossing was a total gem—the staff was lovely, and that cold brew? Absolute heaven. My soul finally re-entered my body.

Sugar, Rain, and a Waving Dinosaur
Fueled and dangerous, we fired up the Clip Speakers and let the morning playlist do the heavy lifting. To be honest, the scenery was a bit… “minimalist,” so we put our heads down and spun.

At water stop #2, Darryl appeared like a desert mirage with the ultimate gift: Donuts. 🍩

With a fresh sugar high, Jeff, Karl, and I locked into a groove with a plan to knock out what was left of our 70 mile day. If you’ve never hammered miles to an Art of Noise playlist, I highly recommend it—it’s scientifically impossible to bike slowly to those beats. We picked up Frank along the way, forming a four-man peloton of pure momentum. We even blew past the third water stop because lunch was calling our names.

Singing in the Rain (Sort of)
The storm eventually caught us, but it was more of a “light misting” than a “monsoon.” For 45 minutes, we got a free bike wash. Jeff pointed out that Eddy was on the back, joyfully waving at every car that passed through the rain. Between the tunes, the smooth asphalt, and a waving dinosaur, you couldn’t wipe the smiles off our faces.

Horse on a porch?  That was not on our Bingo Card

The Grand Entrance
After a lightning-fast lunch, we hit the home stretch. We traded the highways for quiet residential streets, soaking in a rare moment of sunshine. With three miles left, we bumped into more teammates.

At Jeff’s urging, I pulled a “pro-peloton” move: I accelerated past the group, GoPro filming the whole squad, and took the lead to pull the entire team home. It felt like a movie montage.

The Perfect Bookend
We ended the day exactly how we started: chasing caffeine. We shared an afternoon brew with the team at the Frontier Rodeo Coffee Shop, watching the storm finally “let loose” outside while we sat high and dry.

From “murky swill” to “Frontier perfection.” What a day. State # 5 here we come!