Lost Keys, Headwinds & Hills
Denton, Texas · November 3, 2026
Cycling Around America · Ride Journal
Denton, Texas — Lost Keys, Headwinds, and a Serious Disagreement with the Hills
· Denton, Texas
*Elevation estimated from smoothed GPS points; Garmin or Strava may report a different total.
A Beautiful Day to Get My Ass Kicked
It had rained like a bastard the night before, but by the time I was getting ready to unload Ari Shafer, Texas had put on one beautiful show. The sky was a brilliant blue, enormous white clouds were scattered across the horizon, and the countryside looked like it might offer some pretty good photography opportunities. I was hoping to find a few rivers, creeks, bridges, and whatever else might be hiding along the back roads outside Denton.
The plan was simple enough: get on the bicycle, enjoy the countryside, take a bunch of photographs, and eventually make my way back to the truck. What I hadn’t planned on was spending nearly five hours having a very personal disagreement with the hills and wind of North Texas.
The trouble started almost immediately. Leaving the truck stop, I encountered one big-ass hill that seemed determined to introduce itself personally. I dropped into the gears, got my legs working, and pedaled the whole damn thing without walking. That felt pretty good until I discovered another two or three substantial climbs waiting farther down the road. None was quite as nasty as the first, but they were plenty capable of making my legs complain.
And then there was the headwind. Not just an occasional gust, but the kind of wind that makes you wonder why you’re working so hard when the scenery doesn’t appear to be moving any faster. As if that weren’t enough entertainment, a garbage truck decided to become my unofficial riding companion. The driver would pass me, stop at a driveway to collect somebody’s trash, and then come rumbling past me again. This happened three times. There I was, fighting for breath against the wind and hills, repeatedly getting treated to the delightful aroma of garbage.
Ari’s observation: Between the climbs, the headwind, and the traveling garbage buffet, Denton was apparently determined to make this a character-building ride before he’d even gotten to the good scenery.
The Great Denton Key Hunt
Things were finally moving along when I heard something hit the pavement behind my bicycle. I stopped to investigate and discovered that I’d made a rather unfortunate mistake: I’d forgotten to zip up my rear storage pouch. I recovered my camera holder, but then noticed something considerably more important was missing. My keys. My freaking truck keys!
That little discovery brought the sightseeing portion of the ride to an abrupt halt. I turned Ari Shafer around and began retracing the route, looking for a set of keys that could have fallen out just about anywhere. Every bump, crack, and stretch of shoulder became a potential hiding place. I kept riding back until, eventually, I reached the truck itself. And there were my keys.
Crisis averted, but the adventure had already cost me an additional four and a half miles. Worse yet, after turning around to start the ride again, I found myself staring up at that original monster hill for the second time. I’d already climbed the bastard once, and I wasn’t especially enthusiastic about repeating the performance after my little scavenger hunt.
But there wasn’t much point standing there arguing with it. I got back on the pedals, started climbing, and kicked that motherfucker right in the nuts. All the way to the top without walking. Again. I headed down the other side, made my way past the railroad tracks, and eventually returned to the little community where my key-recovery expedition had begun. At that point I was finally back on the planned ride, only with several extra miles and another hill-climbing accomplishment already in the books.
And for anyone curious, the wind was no better the second time.
A Bridge, a Breather, and Those Beautiful Texas Skies
For all the aggravation, the scenery really was something special. Everywhere I looked, the sky was filled with those enormous white clouds floating against brilliant blue. I’d been taking photographs throughout the ride because there were too many beautiful things to pass up. At 22.41 miles, I announced that I’d reached the halfway point. The wind had eased off somewhat, and despite the extra mileage and climbing, my legs were still feeling surprisingly strong.
Not long afterward, just shy of 24 miles, I finally stopped for my first proper break on a bridge. The water underneath wasn’t particularly attractive. It was muddy and brown, and after the previous night’s heavy rain, I wasn’t terribly surprised. But the surrounding scenery more than made up for it. White bridge railings stretched along the roadway, trees framed the countryside, and the sky overhead looked almost painted.
I spent some time taking photographs from the bridge, including pictures of Ari Shafer against those bright white railings. It was one of those places that made me glad I’d stopped long enough to appreciate what was around me. Sometimes the prettiest part of a river crossing isn’t the water at all.
I was also pleasantly surprised by how little stiffness I felt when I finally got off the bicycle. I’d been working hard, but my legs were holding up better than expected. I’d brought two 28-ounce bottles mixed with Tailwind Endurance Fuel, and I was working on the second one. I hadn’t eaten anything that morning, so I was relying on the carbohydrates in the drink for some of my energy. It was helping me get through the miles, although in hindsight, I probably should have eaten a proper meal before setting out.
Road Closed? Let’s Investigate
A little farther along, I encountered one of those signs that always gets my attention: ROAD CLOSED — DETOUR AHEAD. Anybody who knows me knows I’m not particularly enthusiastic about riding a bunch of extra miles simply because somebody has placed a detour sign along my route. After the Great Denton Key Hunt had already donated another four and a half miles to my day, I certainly wasn’t looking to volunteer for more.
I continued cautiously toward the work area until I found some road workers. I stopped and asked, ‘Hey y’all, is it bicycle passable?’ After checking with them, I was allowed to walk Ari Shafer through the construction area rather than follow the vehicle detour. One of the workers told me to be careful, I thanked everybody, and before long I was safely back on the road.
That particular adventure had worked out rather nicely. No extra miles, no additional hill-climbing expedition, and nobody had to come looking for me. I considered that a definite improvement over the earlier portion of the ride.
A Few Musicians Along the Fence
With about twelve miles remaining, after yet another climb, I came across something that immediately caught my eye. Sitting along a rustic fence and gate were several wonderful metal sculptures depicting musicians wearing broad-brimmed hats and holding stringed instruments. One figure stood with a guitar, while two others sat nearby as though they were playing a little roadside concert. Their rusted surfaces and weathered construction gave them a personality that seemed perfectly at home in the Texas countryside.
I thought they were pretty freaking cool, and there was no way I was riding past without stopping for photographs. I photographed the figures individually, then backed away for wider views that included the gate and fencing. Naturally, Ari Shafer had to get into a few of the pictures. With the bicycle in the foreground and the sculptures standing behind it against that big Texas sky, the whole scene looked like something made for Cycling Around America.
There’s an interesting tradition behind this kind of artwork. Texas has a long history of practical ironwork, from blacksmiths making tools and horseshoes to craftspeople creating decorative gates and ornaments. Over time, another tradition developed alongside it: folk artists transforming discarded metal, machinery, and everyday objects into figures, animals, and imaginative sculptures. One Texas example is Felix ‘Fox’ Harris, known for turning scrap and found materials into imaginative creations. His work is different from the musicians I encountered, but it illustrates that same ability to see art where someone else might see scrap.
I don’t know who created these particular musicians, but whoever it was clearly had a little creativity to spare. Finding them made another difficult climb worthwhile, and they became one of my favorite discoveries of the afternoon.
Ari’s observation: This is why I like his habit of exploring the roads beyond truck stops. You never know when a stretch of countryside will turn up a little homemade concert in rusted steel.
Somebody Needs to Explain This Flat Texas Business
As the afternoon wore on, the scenery remained beautiful, but my legs and backside were beginning to protest. The headwind wasn’t as vicious as it had been earlier, although it had certainly overstayed its welcome. I was standing on the pedals more frequently to relieve the saddle pressure, and I found myself wondering just how much climbing I’d actually done.
I’d always heard that Texas was flat. Well, somebody apparently forgot to inform the roads around Denton. Because from where I was sitting, I’d spent an awful lot of the afternoon looking uphill. Whoever started that flat-Texas nonsense deserves to come ride this route and explain it to me afterward.
With seven and a half miles remaining, the clouds began changing. Those beautiful white, fluffy clouds that had decorated the early ride were giving way to darker, heavier formations. I stopped for a couple more photographs, but I was increasingly focused on getting back to the truck.
Then, on the east side of Interstate 35, Texas decided to give me one final lesson in humility. Another big-ass hill. I started climbing, shifted into the easiest gears I had available, and gave that hill everything my legs could produce. But the accumulated effort of the day had finally caught up with me. I was pushing so hard that I almost didn’t get unclipped in time when the bicycle began to lose momentum.
Fortunately, I managed to get my foot free before falling. That was enough. I got off and pushed Ari Shafer the rest of the way to the top. I’d conquered plenty of hills already, and I wasn’t interested in ending the day lying on the pavement simply to prove a point. At the summit, I took a couple of photographs of those increasingly stormy-looking clouds, caught my breath, and prepared to finish what I’d started. ‘Here we go. We’re pedaling again. Fucking ducky.’
One Last Siesta and a Parking Lot Full of Birds
With only 1.24 miles remaining, I finally reached the point where my legs were telling me, in no uncertain terms, that they were finished negotiating. I stopped beneath a bridge, sat down for about fifteen minutes, drank some of my remaining water, and let my legs relax. It’s funny how a mile and a quarter can feel like practically nothing when you’re starting a ride and like an entire expedition when you’ve already spent hours fighting the wind and climbing hills.
After that short rest, though, I got back on Ari Shafer and pedaled the final stretch to the truck stop. And there it was. Home sweet truck. I was absolutely, thoroughly, completely worn the hell out.
But Denton apparently had one last surprise waiting for me. The parking lot was practically covered in birds. Hundreds of dark-colored birds were scattered across the pavement, perched along the building’s roofline, and gathering around the parked trucks and vehicles. Above them, the evening sky was filling with gray-blue clouds and faint pink highlights.
It looked like somebody had called a meeting of every bird in North Texas, and apparently they’d decided to hold it in the truck stop parking lot. Naturally, despite being exhausted, I pulled out the camera for one more round of photographs. Ari called it the end-of-day bird convention. Considering the way the afternoon had gone, I figured it was as good an explanation as any.
I’d started the day hoping to find some peaceful countryside, pretty waterways, and a few worthwhile photographs. Instead, I’d spent nearly five hours wrestling with hills, fighting the wind, retracing miles of roadway for lost keys, negotiating a construction area, discovering some wonderful metal musicians, and arriving home to an enormous flock of birds. Along the way, I’d also seen beautiful country, taken a whole lot of photographs, and covered 44.75 miles on Ari Shafer. Every ride teaches me something, and this one certainly had plenty of lessons to offer.
The biggest lesson? Check the damn zipper before leaving the truck. Afterward, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and something sweet sounded a whole lot better than another hill. I was ready to get some sleep, and I had an early morning waiting for me.
Would I do it again? Probably. That’s the funny thing about riding a bicycle. You can spend the afternoon cussing every hill in Texas, then get back to the truck and realize you had one hell of an adventure. And if anybody tells me Texas is flat, I’m inviting them to ride around Denton with me.
Ari’s closing thought: Forty-four and three-quarter miles, a scavenger hunt for truck keys, a roadside metal band and a truck stop full of birds. Denton gave him a lot more than the quiet photography ride he planned, and that’s exactly why these adventures are worth telling.
A Note About Tailwind Endurance Fuel
During this ride, I mentioned using Tailwind Endurance Fuel in my water bottles. For readers unfamiliar with it, Tailwind Endurance Fuel is a powdered carbohydrate-and-electrolyte drink designed for longer periods of physical activity, including cycling, running, and endurance events. Its carbohydrates provide energy during exercise, and its electrolytes help replace some of what is lost through sweat.
I use it on longer rides because I like having some of my energy and electrolytes in the water I’m already drinking. It’s convenient and works well for me, but it isn’t a guarantee against cramping or a substitute for planning adequate food and hydration during a demanding ride. This isn’t a sponsored recommendation, just an explanation of something I use during my cycling adventures.
Explore 18 more photographs from this ride
Photo note: Image enhancements are Ari-assisted beautification of original photographs!
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