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Border Bike Trip, Day 30: Rocky Reaches the Top of the Stairs

I woke up at the crack of dawn in a bad Brownsville motel, located next to I-69E, and set off to bike the remaining 26 miles to the Gulf of Mexico, or as people in Mexico refer to it, “the sea.” My plan was to finish the trip, snap a few photos, turn around, and head for the airport. I needed to find a way to get my bike home before my 5:00 flight, which is always an enormous hassle.
The city of Brownsville sits on the far east end of the U.S.-Mexico border, but falls short of the coast. There are two highways that lead to the beach. I took the one closest to the border, Texas State Highway 4. Dogs perked up to chase me as the sun rose. Suburbia quickly faded, and I was, once again, left alone on the open road. Two enormous wildlife management areas and the Boca Chica State Park keep the area wild and undeveloped. High winds whipped off the ocean, combing the high grass against the ground. The final miles of the Rio Grande flowed to the right side of the road. The bay, dotted …
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