When I exit the highway near Adam's grandparents old home I see him standing by the gate, a silhouette in
the early dawn. We are excited. A road trip is therapy for me; I need an adventure every two or three months to appease my wanderlust and give H a break. Exploring the backroads of Far West Texas, also called the Trans Pecos, is a favorite destination for me, but Texas native Adam's first time south of US 90 into Big Bend and the Rio Grande valley. We quickly load the coolers, full of ice and frosty beverages, hiking boots and packs, camera gear and tripods, and hit the road.
Happy to connect with US 67, we were soon in Alpine.
Alpine is a very cool little city. Home of the Sol Ross State University and about 6000 citizens and the seat of Brewster county. It is the commercial hub for Big Bend travelers and all the surrounding towns. You can get good accommodation and a good meal and fuel, at a fair price. Ft Davis is 18 miles NW, Marfa about 25 due west and Marathon east about 30 miles. Terlingua is 80 miles south and the park HQ another 30 or so.
I can easily see myself living within 50 miles of Alpine someday.
And yes I have been to the official viewing platform to see the mysterious Marfa Lights but sadly they were off that night. Perhaps another night…
The Hi-Way Cafe is another trip back in time that I cannot resist shooting.
So far it survives.
It's fun.
Anyway welcome to Fort Davis, County seat of Jeff Davis County and a nice little pocket. Its population hovers around a thousand and doesn't seem interested in major moves one way or the other. There is wealth here but it is discreet and more interested in stewarding the land than subdividing it.
We stayed a night in the Harvard Hotel and ordered gourmet sandwiches made fresh the next morning to go as we will head south to the Rio Grande.
Do not pass GO without going to the Stone Village Store.
And yet although most of these are huge spreads with nobody in miles…
it is like Morocco…
as soon as you pull out your camera…
a native runs into the shot.
Photo bomb!
They are, like the old Aermotor windmills, iconic silhouettes across the west.
but every once in a while I could turn one way or the other
and catch these Hemingway moments.
On a barren horizon you may see a derelict vehicle,
partially stripped, usually tagged, and definitely all shot up, abandoned incongruously.
The dry desert preserves them longer but they usually die of lead poisoning.
They cover both sides of the road, many sections, thousands of acres
with the same name repeated on gates every mile or so.
Pinto Canyon cuts down towards the Rio Grande.
The peaks on the horizon are Mexico.
And then we are on RM 170, arguably one of the most scenic highways in America as it roller coasters along the Rio Grande. I have spent hours traveling the 50 miles between Presidio and our destination, the Lajitas resort.
and the pool and bar beckon.