What-a-Ride

Thanksgiving Whataburger Ride

John Richardson

I was born and raised in the Rio Grande Valley down in the tip of Texas. The hard part about getting to the Valley is crossing the 57-mile stretch of Highway 77 from Riviera to Raymondville, which also includes the famous King Ranch.

There are no towns or stores along the route and the only civilization you will find is a Border Patrol checkpoint 36-miles up and a rest area about 8-miles north of that. The rest area has water, phones, and rest rooms now, but it did not even exist until about 15 years ago.

When I was a kid, the King Ranch stretch was a no-mans land full of mesquite brush and rattlesnakes. It is still covered with sand dunes and sparse vegetation, but they still manage to raise cows on it. Alice and I still make the trip several times a year to visit kinfolks and for the last few years I have been thinking about riding solo across those flat, empty miles.

I thought that if I did it in the fall or spring I could miss the 100-degree temperatures and carry enough water to make it without help. I would also need to make use of a tail wind because you wouldn’t want a head wind for that distance unless you were Lance Armstrong. I started planning a route from the Whataburger in Raymondville to the new Whataburger in Kingsville that looked to be about 70-miles. Alice gave her okay providing that I had someone sag for me in case of trouble.

My brother-in-law from Harlingen thought it sounded like fun and he agreed to drive my van. I borrowed a couple of walkie-talkies from work and decided that I would try for the Friday after Thanksgiving. The weatherman forecast lows in the 50’s and highs in the upper 70’s with a possibility of light southeast winds, so everything seemed to be coming together.

I picked up my brother-in-law, Robert Archer at 6:30a.m. and drove the twenty miles to the starting place. The temperature was in the low 60’s and the wind was about 5 or 10 out of the southeast. After eating way too much for breakfast, I pulled out at 7:40 a.m. I had asked Robert not to follow me, but to drive ahead about 10-miles and wait. I figured the walkie-talkies would be good for about 4-miles but they seemed to only work for a mile or less, but they still came in handy.

The road is perfectly flat and the pavement was smooth. They haven’t discovered chip-seal down there yet. I reached a cruising speed of about 19.5 and seemed comfortable to hold it there. I rode on past the first 10-mile point and stopped for a picture at the 20-mile point so I could pose in front of a King Ranch gate. I stopped again real quick at the 30-mile mark and had noticed that my speed had come up to 20 or 21 at times. When I stopped I noticed that the wind had picked up some, which explained my speed.

I was passed by hundreds of vehicles from San Benito that were heading to San Antonio for a playoff game. When I got to the Border Patrol checkpoint there were 2 lanes of cars in a line a quarter of a mile long. Just as I got there, Robert radioed me that he had gone through and they had given permission for me to use the bus lane and by-pass the traffic as long as I stopped. When I stopped, I was asked if I was a citizen and where was I riding. When I told him from Raymondville to Kingsville, he laughed and told me to be careful and have a good ride.

I met Robert at the rest area, but it was so crowded, I only stopped for a few minutes, and then rode on. We agreed to meet at the Dairy Queen at Riviera. By this time my speed was coming up to 22 or 23. When I got to the Dairy Queen in 2 hours and 55 minutes, I felt so good that I decided I could complete the long route. I rode non-stop to Kingsville and for the most part I was cruising at 25mph. I finished with a total time of 3 hours and 40 minutes for 71.2 miles with an average speed of 20.6 mph.

If I could bottle that tail wind, I might start riding time trials again. During my trip, I passed the 3,000-mile mark for the year. I guess if you are going to do long rides, you might as well do an easy one now and then. The temperature was in the upper 70’s and the wind was blowing about 30 when I finished. That old, long empty stretch will never seem the same again – I tamed it with my Trek.