"Should we drive all the way to Big Bend, 110 miles one way, for the day or stay around Alpine and explore here?" asked Andy, when we got up this morning. I knew he really wanted to see one of his favorite parks, but it's a park that needs a week for touring.
"Either one is fine with me," I told him, "but that's four hours and lots more driving once you get there." We decided to travel in a loop through the Davis Mountains from Alpine instead of heading to Big Bend.
"This is where people come to see the Marfa lights," said Andy, pulling into a viewing area with a lovely circular building on Route #90. Originally an air field to train army pilots, the area is now famous for its lights that appear with no explanation about 30 nights a year. "It's mostly in the summer, so we're out of luck."
"This is where people come to see the Marfa lights," said Andy, pulling into a viewing area with a lovely circular building on Route #90. Originally an air field to train army pilots, the area is now famous for its lights that appear with no explanation about 30 nights a year. "It's mostly in the summer, so we're out of luck."
"Well, you probably need to be a believer too," I joked.
"It's not about believing in extraterrestrials. It's just an anomaly of nature," he explained.
"Sure. And that's why the fliers say, 'Marfa Lights... are they aliens?'" I countered.
The Border Patrol zipped past us. "I think that in spite of all they are doing about illegals, it's a hopeless cause," said Andy, as we passed another Border Patrol parked by the side of the road. "Even Kurt agreed with me. Until they go after the people who hire the illegals and make it so, so..."
The Border Patrol zipped past us. "I think that in spite of all they are doing about illegals, it's a hopeless cause," said Andy, as we passed another Border Patrol parked by the side of the road. "Even Kurt agreed with me. Until they go after the people who hire the illegals and make it so, so..."
"So onerous?" I interjected.
"That's it. So onerous, the government is never going to solve the illegal immigrant problem."
We tooled past two gigantic greenhouses labeled Village Farms--one in Marfa and one on Route #17 closer to Fort Davis. "They have to be growing something valuable," said Andy, "because they have considerable transportation costs. This is far from anything. And they are hiring." We never did figure out what was being grown.
We tooled past two gigantic greenhouses labeled Village Farms--one in Marfa and one on Route #17 closer to Fort Davis. "They have to be growing something valuable," said Andy, "because they have considerable transportation costs. This is far from anything. And they are hiring." We never did figure out what was being grown.
On Route #17 we went past a grouping of sheet metal houses. The sign said, Bloys Camp Meeting, Established 1890. It caught my attention because an earlier sign warned of cattle on the road. I had been watching. "Open range cows on the right," I told Andy, "but they are in the oak grove so shouldn't present any problem." Then we saw the houses.
"How could anyone live in a metal house during a Texas summer?" he wondered out loud.
When we stopped along Route #177 a little later, Andy had fun mooing at the longhorns. The bull just watched; the others moved away warily to graze at a safer distance. "I just wanted him to look up for the camera," Andy said.
"I think people here have more pride in the land," said Andy, when I read the sign Drive Clean Across Texas. "It's older established families who have lived here more than a generation."
Here, the roadsides were immaculate. It makes such a difference when people care. In 50 miles on Routes #166 and #118, part of the Texas Mountain Trail, we encountered only three other vehicles. Route #118 took us back through cedar and juniper forests of the Davis Mountains at 6,190 feet.
We browsed at McDonald Observatory of the University of Texas at Austin; the research facility boasted the darkest night skies of anywhere in the continental United States.
On the way back to Alpine, we stopped once more at Fort Davis. Just as windy but not nearly as biting, the climb to the Post Trader's Lookout afforded a view we had missed yesterday. The half-mile walk around the Parade Grounds was devoid of visitors today, but Fatigue still sounded automatically at 1:00 p.m.
"Today's for relaxing," said Andy. "It's Day #123. We'll go back to the motel to do laundry."
When we stopped along Route #177 a little later, Andy had fun mooing at the longhorns. The bull just watched; the others moved away warily to graze at a safer distance. "I just wanted him to look up for the camera," Andy said.
"I think people here have more pride in the land," said Andy, when I read the sign Drive Clean Across Texas. "It's older established families who have lived here more than a generation."Here, the roadsides were immaculate. It makes such a difference when people care. In 50 miles on Routes #166 and #118, part of the Texas Mountain Trail, we encountered only three other vehicles. Route #118 took us back through cedar and juniper forests of the Davis Mountains at 6,190 feet.
We browsed at McDonald Observatory of the University of Texas at Austin; the research facility boasted the darkest night skies of anywhere in the continental United States.
On the way back to Alpine, we stopped once more at Fort Davis. Just as windy but not nearly as biting, the climb to the Post Trader's Lookout afforded a view we had missed yesterday. The half-mile walk around the Parade Grounds was devoid of visitors today, but Fatigue still sounded automatically at 1:00 p.m."Today's for relaxing," said Andy. "It's Day #123. We'll go back to the motel to do laundry."
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