There's No End of the Road in Texas

You can go 80 mph on I-10 in West Texas, and you might as well.  There's nothing else to do, particularly at night, and even at 15% over a normal interstate speed, you'll be driving for a while.

In planning The Adventure, I didn't think about daylight.  The whole thing was going to start in the late fall, based on my work schedule, holidays, etc., and although I generally considered weather (hence, my determination of going south rather than north), I hadn't thought about the impact of short days.  Or, more specifically, early nights.  This first became problematic in my semi-successful effort to see Carhenge.  Otherwise, it hadn't been an issue so far:  I saw a bunch of Oklahoma and north Texas before it got dark earlier in the week, and frankly, the rain was bad enough that I wouldn't have been looking at the scenery even if it had been light.

But last night I found myself driving several hours in the dark and contemplating the pluses and minuses of feeling like one in the morning even though it's only 7 p.m.

Of course, it wasn't dark all day.  Late yesterday morning I headed south to San Antonio for lunch with an old college friend (to be clear:  "old" does not refer to age; we are both very young).  It had been recommended to me to take the western route to San Antonio, avoiding I-35.  Frankly, had they suggested that I walk barefoot to San Antonio as an alternative to taking I-35, I'd have considered it, but Highway 290/281 is actually attractive in itself rather than simply not being the driving hell that is I-35.  It's pretty and hilly and only adds a little bit of time to the drive; well worth it.  It was also suggested to take Ranch Road 165 as a short cut from 290 to 281, and that was spectacular.  As you come up over a hill and suddenly look down into the Blanco Valley, the view takes your breath away.  Or, at least, it did mine.

Although I had been to both the River Walk and the Alamo before (and I remember the Alamo), I went again since it was a lovely day and it didn't bother me to walk around a bit before getting back in the car after a lunch that was bigger than I'd intended.

And now, some pictures:



The River Walk

The Alamo

The Buckhorn & Texas Ranger Museum (no, I didn't go in)

Then I got on I-10 to head west, which Plotts had warned me about.  Something about how it goes through the land of death or dead land or something.  (When Plotts gets on a roll I can have trouble keeping up.)  Anyway, he doesn't care for I-10.  But taking his assessment as true - for argument's sake only - I guess it was good to drive it at night because the sunset was really cool, especially if I wasn't missing much in the way of scenery.

It wasn't "OMG the entire sky is lit up" cool, but driving west/northwest in the winter, it was a beautiful and interesting vista.  First of all, the sun didn't drop by blazing into your eyes, which was nice.  But better was the fact that for a while you were driving into a silhouette with an unending orange skyline as the backdrop for black trees and bridges and even the car in front of you.  And best of all was the crescent moon.  There's a fair number of cars and trucks on I-10, but a couple of times due to a bend in the road and a break in traffic, I felt like it was just the moon and my car and me.  That was a great feeling - nearly spiritual, really, which I guess just proves that I'm an American.  Then, as I approached Fort Stockton, which is about halfway between San Antonio and Las Cruces, the moon hung larger and lower - so low, in fact, that it seemed you would drive right into it.

So, Plotts (and I'm sorry I lost you mid-sentence yesterday; cell coverage isn't so good out here), my advice if you're going to drive I-10 again is to do it in the dark and see if it gets any better.

Nearing Fort Stockton, I saw an interesting sign.  Since it was dark and I was driving 80 mph, you'll understand that I didn't get a picture.  The sign said "La Entrada al Pacifico."  Apparently it is some sort of trade corridor (whatever that is) that goes from a Mexican port into the U.S.  One learns all sorts of things by travelling, doesn't one?

There is one remaining mystery in Fort Stockton (since I solved the mystery of what the heck an Entrada al Pacifico is thanks to Wikipedia), and that is why everything here is so expensive.  I am paying the same rate for an old, tired (but clean!) motel room here as I did in Austin (and Waco and Guthrie, for that matter), and in all those places I was in a new, nicer hotel (for instance, they provided hot water).  And gas out here is crazy expensive.  So tomorrow I will see if there's an explanation other than "Don't like the price?  Keep driving!" or "Hey, try trucking everything 300 miles from anywhere and see how cheap YOU can do it."  You can expect a full report.