I very much wanted to visit the Mt. Blanco Fossil Museum in Crosbyton, a museum where the owners show how the fossil record supports Creationism as being scientifcally more accurate than the theory of evolution held by the "popular establishment." Supposedly, they have proof that Noah took dinosaurs on the ark. How could I resist that?

I was sad to learn that they are currently closed to the public, as the owner is off on a fossil dig in Israel. So I contented myself with browsing through the exhibits at the Crosby County Pioneer Museum across the street, which contained a few fossils plus a variety of relics of Texas history. These included mastodon mandibles, date nails used to indicate the age and type of timber used for railroad ties, items from a Civil War supply camp found and excavated by a local boy scout troop, old surgical instruments, dioramas containing samples of the many types of grass in Texas, an exhibit on cotton production, and an old penny farthing bicycle that left me astonished to think of anyone successfully riding it. Coincidentally, my friend Tony sent me a link to this article on crazy penny farthing bicycle journeys the very next day.

My favorite display in the museum was one on old beauty shop equipment, including a rather draconian-looking hair curling apparatus and the following excerpt from a 1911 catalog that marketed it:

"The one thing that is foremost in every woman's ambitions is to be beautiful. Beauty serves women the same as strength favors men. It is their passport to success. Beauty is power. Clothes may hide defects in the physique, but the face, if it is beautiful and crowned with luxuriant hair, wields influence supreme. Mere man is susceptible. Since the time of Adam and Eve, women's greatest asset in life's battle has been a beautiful face and a crowning mass of beautiful hair."

At 12:00, Gary, one of the museum staff, informed me they'd be closing down for lunch, and come to think of it, lunch sounded pretty good to me too. I stopped in at Teresa's Cocina for a burrito. This was when I realized that Crosbyton is the Texas equivalent of my hometown, Waterville, NY. Both have a population of just over 1700 people. Both have purple and gold as the school colors. And, as I learned in Teresa's Cocina by a logo on the wall, both have an Indian as their mascot.

True to form, I hung out way too long and got on the road at 1:00, not leaving myself a very large window of time to complete the 36 miles to Lubbock, especially if I ran into winds like the previous day's again. But I had a hard time getting motivated, as I was tired and feeling downright geriatric. My knees, hips, and shoulders all ached. The biggest thing inciting me to hit the road for Lubbock was that I had a CouchSurfing host lined up and could take a day off.

Thankfully, the wind was down to a more reasonable 10mph and despite the aches, I enjoyed smooth sailing through serious cotton country. Cotton fields abounded. Cotton bales with their brightly colored tarps dotted the horizon. Cotton that had blown loose from the fields littered the side of the road. I stopped to watch giant cotton picking machines slowly combing through a field with their long arms. At a cotton processing plant, cotton was dumped out of chutes into huge vats to compress it. Fine white cotton dust covered the road and parking lot across the street. Cotton was everywhere. This made me very happy.

That is, until I went to take a picture of some pretty circular cotton bales and couldn't find my iPhone anywhere, despite twice searching all my pockets and handlebar bag. I knew I'd had it in the restaurant, so perhaps I left it there? But I'd also taken pictures of the cotton fields along the way. When I thought back, I did remember hearing something hit the pavement as I was riding. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but in hindsight I felt quite sure that it was the sound of my iPhone falling out of my jacket pocket.

I didn't know what to do. I could not remember exactly when I'd taken the last picture, or when I heard the phone fall out. Depending how far back I had to go, I'd be adding significant miles to a day that I'd already cut too close in terms of time, when I was already exhausted and hurting. Should I enlist the help of someone with a vehicle? What would I say? I pictured myself approaching a total stranger with, "Um, I dropped my phone somewhere in the last 16 miles. Can you drive me around to look for it?" How embarrassing! 

Besides, I knew the best way to find the phone would be by bike, where I could ride slowly the wrong way down the shoulder and and scan the road for it—a depressing task on multiple levels, but I didn't see any other option. This phone is my map, my GPS, my internet, my camera, and. . . oh yeah, my phone. It would be expensive to replace. I thought the chances of finding it were slim, but I had to try.

I rode back a couple miles and had to pull off the shoulder to make way for the same three huge cotton picking machines I'd seen earlier coming my way, driving on the shoulder so that faster traffic could pass them. My heart sank. Even if my phone were lying on the shoulder somewhere, it seemed like a safe bet that the machines would have crushed it. Still, I continued on.

Another mile or so later I saw a small black oblong. . . could it be. . .YES! My iPhone. When I picked it up the protective plastic film on it was ripped to shreds as though it had been ground into the gravel, but miraculously, it worked! And miraculously, I'd only had to backtrack 3 miles to find it. I still had time to get to Lubbock before dark.

And I made it, literally just as the sun was setting, after coaxing my achy legs to keep turning the pedals for another 20 miles. I pulled up at my CouchSurfer host Daniel's house and knocked on the door. A 4-year-old girl opened it, followed shortly by her grandmother and a chihuahua in a pink dress. "Does. . . Daniel live here?" I was pretty sure I already knew the answer to that one, but you can't knock on someone's door and then run away when they answer.

Now what? I called Daniel. He lived at 2621, not 2612. See? What would I have done without my iPhone?