We'll Always Have Paris

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The last couple of days have flown by, with many miles covered and many sights seen. I guess most folks would not have found most of those miles all that fascinating, as we quickly left the big, showy/snowy ranges of New Mexico behind. I, however, still enjoyed every bit of it -- it's just so unlike the landscape where I have spent my whole life. It was pretty much downhill all the way, through a dry land of low mesas, eroded hillsides, and long, long vistas. I think that's one of the great attractions of southwestern travel. At home, if you can see a half mile off the side of the road, it's notable. Here, seemingly whatever way you look, you can see for miles -- and miles. It's not unusual to spot some feature ahead of you, and then have it take 20 minutes or more before you reach it. At our set V-max towing speed of 60 mph -- even for me it's not too hard to figure out that it was 20 miles away when first seem.

So I kept my eyes set to "video" and tried my best to just record it all in my gray matter as we went. At first, the roads we traveled into east-central New Mexico were pretty busy with Texans zooming their way home after enjoying their state-wide March break. After we crossed the path of I40 however, we pretty much had the 2 lanes to ourselves. We don't really enjoy interstate driving anyway, and with our self-imposed speed limit, I believe that here at least, we can make almost as good time on the secondary roads as on the superslabs. The towns we traveled through were few and far between, and every single one of them, sad to see. Abandoned homes, boarded-up businesses, and tumbling tumbleweeds -- makes you wonder about the few stubborn souls who continue to hold out in those places. Where do they work? shop? go to school? I find the places charming in some way, but also melancholy, the bittersweet ebb and flow of the pioneers.

After a few pleasant if lonely hours we saw ahead the unmistakable form of a large river valley. Cathy checked the map, and sure enough, it was our old friend the Pecos River again. We coasted down into the strange greenness of the valley after all those miles of brown. This town had it's share of the run-down too, but it was more lively than anyplace we had seen since Santa Fe. We stopped to fuel and we saw a sign mentioning that this town, Fort Sumner, was best known as the last resting place of Billy Bonney (AKA Billy the Kid). Cathy had failed to find his Mom's grave, purported to be in the graveyard next to our campsite in Silver City, so she definitely wanted to stop for this, and why not? We would likely not pass this way again, as they say. And to my surprise, it was more interesting than I expected, and for reasons that I could never have anticipated. First, there was an old wooden marker for some poor slob named Joe Grant, who's only claim to fame is that he got in the way of one of our Billy's bullets. More interesting though, was the story of Billy's own marker. Placed there only a few years after Pat Garret put out his lights, it was first stolen in 1951, then recovered 25 years later in Texas. It disappeared again 5 years after, only to be quickly found, this time in Huntington Beach, CA. That's a real puzzler, maybe someone wanted to use it as a surfboard? So now the poor thing is shackled and caged in a way that I'm sure old Billy himself would never have wanted to be -- as if the headstone itself is being kept from escaping.

Thoughts of Billy Bonney were all the more appropriate on this particular day, because he was of Irish descent, and this was March 17. Cathy had made it clear to me that wherever we landed for the night, she wanted a traditional "Irish Boiled Dinner" of corn beef and cabbage. This is no favorite of mine, but I was willing to go along to get along, as they say. As we followed the many trains down the BNSF mainline into Clovis, NM though, Cathy decided we should have a lunch out, rather than dinner. All well and good, but finding IBD in Clovis, even on this greenest of days, would not be easy. We went past a place right on the main road that was just packed. It was called Leal's -- a Mexican place, and Cathy said any place that busy has to be good -- and she was (as always) right. Of course, even on this San Patricio Day, there was no corn beef to be had. I checked the menu closely though, and I saw they feature a beef brisket taco plate -- same cut of beef. Add some chili verde sauce, and I would consider it an altogether fitting tribute John Riley and the other heroes of "Batallon de San Patricio" of the Mexican War. Better still, the food was fantastic -- real flour tortillas made right on site as they should be, excellent! After an hour or so, we waddled back out to Moby and Fred, and headed east again, back into Texas.

The last 60 or so miles of New Mexico had been flat as a pancake, with lots of fields of wheat and cotton, all watered with those center-pivot irrigation systems, the kind that make all those green circles you see from airplanes. As we moved on through Texas, it was much the same thing. It began to get late, so we called and made arrangements for a camp spot just north of Lubbock, TX. It was a nice place, but near a very busy road, and right across from the airport -- noisy. Fedex had a facility there too, so cargo planes were in and out. Also, as here we were just north of the Permian Basin, there was a good bit of helicopter traffic as well. No worries though, that's why they make earplugs.

Up early on a foggy next morning, off to the east we were again, headed for Cathy's fondly-remembered old home town of Paris, Texas. I had spent a good bit of time the night before with my Texas DeLorme gazetteer. I had plotter a route across north Texas that was pretty direct, but also avoided all larger towns. Some of the roads were 4 lane, and built nearly to interstate standards. Others were modern, wide 3 lane roads, still posted for what seem crazy speeds to us from the east -- 75 mph! Still others were what Texas calls "farm roads" 2 lane, but narrower, and with almost no shoulders, and still posted for 65 mph. This part of Texas came as a surprise to me, I thought that the flat agricultural table lands of Lubbock would extend right across the state, but that was not the case at all. Within a hour of leaving Lubbock, we got back into the same dry, eroded, badlands country that we had seen a few hundred miles ago in New Mexico. This was all beef cattle ranching country, but with a few old "nodding horse" oil well pumps scattered about. This went on for many miles, but still there was lots to see. I can't tell you how many roadrunners we saw, but it was a lot. I can tell you how many rattlesnakes we saw -- only one -- but he was right on the pavement and HUGE!

The few towns we passed through here were pretty dead as well. Wide main streets, with many well preserved and lovely old storefronts. Every town had one large old store, at one time I'm sure the center of commerce there, probably the town's department store. None of these were still being used for that, but a few had been put other uses. The geology hereabouts being good for fossil hunting, the old department store in Crosbytown TX had been converted to a fossil museum. It was not open when we went by, but I was amazed by all the displays in the front windows, including a huge and complete looking mammoth skull -- with enormous tusks. Very cool!

It was no accident that we passed through Archer City TX. That was the setting and location for Peter Bogdanovich's masterpiece "The Last Picture Show". I had always wanted to see that town, and we drove right by the old "Palace Theater" or what's left of it, and it was cool to see it. If anything, this town actually seems less depressing than it was as depicted in the film. On top of that, I spotted a beautiful, rust free BMW 2002 -- round taillights too, and in my favorite orange color -- just sitting in someones yard. Talk about masterpieces.

In due course we arrived in Paris, we drove right through downtown, and it was like many of the others we had passed. It was a little bigger, and with an impressive town square. The city center was clearly not what it once was, but all the lovely old buildings were still there, and most of them were occupied. It seems folks here are aware of what they have, and they are working to preserve it -- good for them. We set up in a little place north of town, nothing fancy, but fine for our needs. After a nice meal, we enjoyed a rare treat. We have not watched one bit of TV since we left home. We have watched a few DVD's on our 12v TV, but nothing else. This place has a (very!) basic cable service at each pylon. When the lady in the office mentioned it, Cathy told her that was OK, we had no cable wiring in our old trailer anyway. The woman couldn't believe it -- and she went and got us a length of coaxial cable so we could hook up. We did, but after a few minutes the novelty wore off -- there was nothing on we wanted to watch. Some treat.

Sunday, we got up and went first to Lake Crook, the Wrigglesworth families' "home waters" when they lived here. No sign of the ski clubs' old jump or slalom course to be found. We had better luck with their old house -- we quickly located it, and it looked great. Sure enough, Cathy went up and knocked on the door. A nice young couple with three little kids live there now, and the house looks loved and well cared for -- nice to see. We also visited the W kids old "Dolphin Swim Club" -- still there, but looking pretty seedy. We also checked out one of the town's new features, a miniature Eiffel Tower, with a cowboy hat on top, of course. We walked around the downtown area, but this being Sunday, and this being the Bible Belt, almost nothing was open. So we took in a movie, that was fun for a change.

Then back to Fred to chill out and have another early night. Tomorrow we head north and east in earnest. Depending on weather, and the verities of fate, we could be home as early as Wednesday night. We're in no hurry to leave this beautiful weather behind, but there's work to be done back at PBF -- time to head this horse for the barn.

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Comments

[Sue A]

Home coming
Glad to hear you on the way home we missed you guys. We found comfort in visiting the White House, watering the plants and moving the snow out of the way. Anyway glad your headed home. Safe travels and see you soon.