I’m catapulting through parabolic curves of limestone, down a strip of asphalt that some madmen, still a bit full of themselves after defeating the Axis powers, had the audacity punch out through west Texas. Most interstates are a full-frontal, sensory assault, gobbling up the landscape, demanding your attention. Not this one. Four lanes of traffic are no match for the giant blue dome of sky overhead, views to the horizons in all directions and hundreds of miles without significant human settlement always wins. And as I rocket down the road (literally making Millennium Falcon noises when I pass people, wishing one of my friends was there so I could shout ‘punch it chewie’ and get the appropriate wookie response), watching the landscape kick the highways ass – life is alright.
Now I’m sitting on rock, still warm form the heat of the day, in the middle of the Chisos Basin, looking down the window trail out into Mexico, writing. In a few, I’ll shut this down go crawl into my sleeping bag and tear into the new Harry Potter.
The Davis Mountains are cool, and the state park by the same name is quite beautiful. I’m sitting here, the big dipper rising on my left, watching my little fire merrily vents British-thermal-units into space, as the desert does regularly scheduled evening temperature nosedive. I’d actually be glad for the fire even if it was blazing hot, because this evening as I’ve been cooking dinner and writing, I’ve run into two skunks, and a pissed off looking duo of havleinas. Fortunately for some reason, I decided to bring my bike light, which spits out enough photons to make Enterprise’s ordnance of choice look like a sparkler, and is also useful in scarring off angry pigs (I swear to god one of them almost charged me. Scary). For those kinds of trips if you’ve never tried bike seat amazon, here https://www.amazon.com/Bikeroo-Oversized-Comfort-Comfortable-Replacement/dp/B07B646ZZY/ are four advantages of leather bike saddles.
Today I did kind of a random driving tour of the Big Bend – Trelignua ( with a short, but pretty ride), Alpine, Marfa and finally Ft. Davis. This part of the state is a time warp to what the America of the late 40’s- early 50’d must’ve been. Stretches of two-lane highway, plunge across great swathes of open country, interspersed by highway rest-stops and funky diners and hotels. Then came McDonald’s and the interstates. How sad is that.