On the Texas trail

The stars at night are big and bright
Deep in the heart of Texas
The prairie sky is wide and high
Deep in the heart of Texas
The sage in bloom is like perfume
Deep in the heart of Texas
Reminds me of the one that I love
Deep in the heart of Texas
        -- 1941, Hershey and Swander


Texas is a big state, nearly nine hundred miles wide. I’ve made four stops along the way, that’s hardly rushing along; but I feel as if I should have spent more time on dusty roads, maybe trailing a herd of longhorns. The transition from America’s east and southeast into the west is remarkable.

Now, I like trees – including the forest primeval where even sunshine struggles to penetrate the dense flora. My ideal is a mountain setting with abundant trees and some kind of body of water – lake, river, ocean or at least a substantial stream. I’m a big fan of things arboreal.

But, when I’m wandering, I definitely prefer plenty of open spaces. I like to know what’s around me; I’m uncomfortable without a sense of the lay of the land.

For weeks, I drove through endless forests. Even in towns and cities, it was difficult – often impossible – to see a block down the road. Even 15 or 20 feet of “forest” behind a building often obscured what was beyond and, for all I knew, I was always on the edge of wilderness. That’s a rather romantic notion; but it’s also sort of crazy making.

That changed when I entered Texas. As the foliage subsided and more and more of the landscape became visible, I began to feel better. Clearly, I prefer the agoraphobic influences of prairie and desert to the claustrophobic effect of dense growth areas.

Yep. Me and old Dan’l Boone just need plenty of elbowroom.

To be clear: I’m not saying I want to live in the desert or on the plains. I’m say that as a traveler, I feel more comfortable when I can see to the horizon and when landmarks (mountain ranges, even cloud formations) are visible from miles away.

I wonder why this is true?

Texans, on average, do actually seem to have a bit more ego than the average folks I’ve met. But they’re not so much more so to be unpleasant to be around – their self-confidence and broad, in-your-face, approach to social contact suits me just fine.

I’ve been made welcome in each of the Texas facilities I’ve visited and am happy to have spent a few weeks in the Lone Star State.

Not that I’d want to live down here. I’m still a Colorado kid at heart.

Tomorrow, I’ll drive by the Sun Bowl (on my way to Las Cruces) a few hours before the big game. I visited UTEP today – taking in a women’s basketball game (versus the U of New Mexico Lobos) – and did a drive-by of the stadium. There are tents set up for the muckety-mucks and the place looks about ready for an influx of fans.

I was tempted, a year ago, to add a loop through Colorado to this trip. I’m rather glad, now, to have resisted the temptation. All the way through Texas – and I suspect for the remainder of my trek west – I’ve been humming, “California, here I come!”