How nice it was to spend the night in a home. I woke at around 0600 and took the opportunity to write of the events of the Day 4. This to give John, Keni and AJ a chance to do their normal routine without an intruder. When I sensed that their day had started,

I prepared to leave. AJ offered breakfast. I declined as to not tax the fine hospitality already shown. I loaded up the scooter (this thing really needs a name. Any suggestions?), bid farewell and set out on Day 5.

The sky was solid overcast. Some light drizzle. Found my way back to Hwy 90 and headed West. Somewhere West of Del Rio(29.52N 101.42W) I came upon a Damsel in distress. A young lady in an old beat up blue GEO, 4 kids all age 2 to 2.5. and one flat tire. There was very little traffic, so I figured I had better give a hand. She spoke "not so much English" and I no Spanish but sign language pretty well. It didn�t take much to communicate flat tire, no jack. I happened to have a can of fix-a-flat that I bought at an AutoZone in San Antonio on day 4. It did the job. At least, she headed East and I West.

Shortly there after, the overcast occasional drizzle turned into steady moderate drizzle. The temp drop, wet and wind chill factor made things a bit unpleasant. I stopped in Sanderson, got fuel and some gloves. There was something else I was going to get but couldn�t remember. The short term memory has gone to hell in a hand basket. Continued on, still raining but bearable without cold hands being stuck with needles. At about Marfa the rain stopped. I would be in Van Horn by 9 PM a good days progress.

Then just East of Valentine it happened. I had been getting a steady 36-37 MPH but the speed dropped to around 30, top. (I chalked it up to head wind). Not all of a sudden just kinda gradual. Then little scoot started acting squirrely. The back end fishtailing. Started just swaying. Then got bad. Darn, this acts like a flat tire. Now I know the other thing I was going to buy. An inspection of the rear tire confirmed. Very low pressure. Not flat but I could squeeze the tire with my hand. No sign of an invasive object. Progress was steady and under control at 20 mph. "7 miles to Valentine" the sign said. Fine I can make that and air up.

Well I�m here to tell you Valentine is a "living" ghost town. Population of, I guess, 35 Not a living thing stirring, anywhere. Just like the old west movie when the stranger comes to town. Everyone disappears. Well I�m 28 miles from Van Horn. It�ll be slow going but if it doesn�t get worse I can make it. Not many other choices.

About 1 mile West of town I see a house setting about 100 yards or so off the road. Several trucks around and various pieces of equipment. The kind of place that might have an air compressor. I see lights and lo and behold, I see three figures of humans out on what looks to be a back porch. I turn into the rocky drive and go about 25 yards when all hell breaks loose. I�m surrounded by no less than 9 mangy, barking attack dogs. Two of which have only 3 legs. This causes enough ruckus to get the humans attention. They don�t even try to call off the dogs. I call out the problem of having a flat. Not much exchange other than they can�t help. O well! Back to plan A.

The detour made the tire worse. I could not continue. Now what? Haven�t seen a passing vehicle in 10 min. Considered walking back to the ghost town, but didn�t really want to trust leaving Scoot with equipment so close to my neighbors. So decided to wait it out. Someone�s gotta come down this road. Finally a few cars pass and a couple of 18 wheelers. I give a distress wave and they stare right through me. Well maybe I�ll take off the helmet and black rain gear. I guess I do look like Darth Vador. Three more cars, 2 more trucks. No luck. Here I am stuck in the Devil�s Triangle of the Texas Bad Lands.

Finally a Ford Explorer passes, breaks and pulls off about 100 yards down the road. The man gets out, goes to the back of his vehicle and does something. I figure he is stopping but not to help me. Then he makes a U-turn and comes back. OK. I introduce myself and tell the problem. He�s got a cell phone and makes a call to the Border Patrol to see if they�ve got anyone in this sector. No luck, but he said that they would contact the Sheriff Office and they would send someone. I thanked him and he leaves. Then he stops again and backs up. He said he couldn�t just leave and would stay until he got confirmation that someone was coming. After about a 30 min wait, the call comes. Tom left and I was alone again. It was totally dark now. The overcast blocking what would have been a moonlit night. 45 min later the Deputy arrives complete with fix-a-flat. I put it in and haul buggy toward Van Horn. Its now around midnight. So much for 9 PM. At least I made it to the end of US 90. In the morning I�ll take a picture of sign marking US 90.