Mar 31
Sorry to my fellow Saint Louisans, but once again we’ve brought high winds and plunging temperatures with us. Don’t worry, it will soon pass.
Once again MBH avers we shall remain in one place for our next vacation, once the wanderlust returns. We shall see.
Today I ran my normal 5.5 miles plus wind sprints, then lifted weights for the first time in three weeks. I’m feeling every single one of my 39 years now.
Natural beauty always beckons…
Mar 30
Not everything goes to plan.
JTFSSW Day 22 “Light at the end of the tunnel”
We are sitting in the San Antonio airport waiting for our flights, first to Houston and then to St Louis which is scheduled to get in at about 9PM. After 22 days we’re like eh, good enough, let’s just go relax at the airport. I almost got run over by a little old lady in the scramble from where you show your ID to where you put your stuff on the conveyer belt. The TSA people really really wanted to move people through so they did a lot of yelling and hand gestures. MBH asked me why I didn’t just move out of the old lady’s way and I told her the TSA guy didn’t think I was moving fast enough so he kept yelling at me to go to lane one. It was refreshing and disturbing at the same time that TSA was more worried about delays than passengers.
This morning we visited Market Square which is a very colorful tourist trap with all kinds of hand crafted Central American goods. I bought a leather wallet, MBH looked at espadrilles without success. The city made more money off our parking than the store did.
I have to claim success on the trip since were able to get everything we brought and bought back in our luggage, we never wore dirty clothes, not even once, and all the Airbnb reviews of us are glowing – we are the epitome of clean and excellent communicators which is clearly a description of MBH, not me.
One thing I found interesting about the trip is that mask wearing overall was greater in Texas and Arizona than New Mexico. The higher rates in urban vs rural was understandable, but I think (underline footstomp think) the wearing in New Mexico was less overall because people were simply tired of the much stricter restrictions without any clear benefit.
Tomorrow, the return to reality and a grocery store.
The forecast for today was high wind, again, so imagine our surprise when we woke up to the sound of rain. And then thunder. I’ll take rain over a dust storm every time.
We took advantage of internet connectivity, being in the same time zone, and the new streaming/zoom normal to “attend” church, Sunday School, and small group. Our first Sunday in three weeks.
In the afternoon, we ate brunch, strolled around the King William historic district, visited a house museum, and even walked a residential stretch of the Riverwalk.
Today we experienced humidity for the first time since we left STL. Turns out it takes a little getting used to. Good thing it was just a little humidity, just enough to notice.
After exhausting the joys of San Antonio, we headed to the Texas Hill Country looking for Bluebonnets and instead we found a Buc-ees which is the most Texas thing we’ve come across, even more than Bluebonnets. Maybe if we’d found a decent stand of them we’d feel differently, but we basically have either seen them right along the road or a single overgrown lot in New Braunfels (anybody ever heard of plain old Braunfels?) that promised we were going to have no trouble finding them in profusion but sadly failed to deliver.
We did find a winery where we passed an enjoyable afternoon with live music and a BBQ food truck. We met Bob and Nancy from Ohio who also had a hankering for conversation and consequently accepted our invitation to join us at our table. MBH has heard every single one of my stories before we came on this trip, and I’m confident Nancy has heard every single one of Bob’s. And that’s all I’m going to say about that.
We passed a bunch of billboards earlier in the trip advertising fresh jerky – the freshest jerky in Texas. I’m not exactly a jerky aficionado (I bet those are two words you never expected to see used together), but I thought the beauty of jerky is that you can’t tell the difference between day old or year old jerky. The whole fresh thing reminds me that jerky is really dry and chewy meat, which are two things I don’t associate with fresh and don’t make me want to buy any.
Texas is a whole other country.
I went for a run this morning, which makes for all three states we visited this trip. The joy of flat and cool mixed with whoa! when I turned from one major street to another and neither sidewalk or shoulder to run on.
We’ve put away the hats and hiking boots, but the sunglasses are still indispensable. I suppose for San Antonio I’d need an urban sombrero instead of my Dockers sun hat. MBH still takes her jacket when we leave the casita, I only wear my light fleece in the mornings around the casita. Keeps me warm and the neighbors from getting jealous.
Today we went to the Missions National Historical Park which has four separate missions: Espada, San Juan (Capistrano), San Jose, and Concepcion. The Alamo, technically San Antonio de Valeria, is at the north end of the mission trail but isn’t part of the National Park.
I picked the mission that was farthest away, and farthest south, Espada, to go to first and thing went truly did go south as the Apple Map app takes you to the Espada Aqueduct or perhaps the original site of the mission if you search for Mission Espada since it was renamed San Francisco de la Espada when it moved in 1731. At first we were the only ones wandering around a field looking at our phones saying I’m getting closer or I’m getting farther. Then another couple showed up and all four of us were wandering around. Then I put in the actual address from the website and we were off to the races – after we told the other wife of our discovery since she had set off down the road while her husband went back to their car.
Then it was off to lunch in the Pearl district. We put our name in at the first restaurant we came to and then we wandered around looking for a restaurant that had a shorter wait. No luck on that, but we did get to see a large chunk of the area while we wandered and the wait wasn’t as long as predicted. We did notice that lack of staff was the constraint on the number of patrons since every restaurant had empty seats, especially inside, but 20 to 30 minute waits. The food was good, but the party next to us didn’t get their food until we were finished despite ordering before us. The manager was supposed to come by and explain what happened, but we never found out why. And that’s how life is like eating at a restaurant.
After lunch we found the north end of the Riverwalk, no sign, just water coming out of a wall and steps up to the street. It came as a bit of a shock.
We finished up the afternoon at the Japanese Garden before returning to the casita and nap time. We plan to go for a walk around a lake at a local park once our energy returns. Plans are good.
Mar 25
After a relaxing morning at the Airbnb we headed to downtown San Antonio where we visited the Riverwalk and the Alamo. While we were happy the tour was free at the Alamo, we were disappointed that there was no tour guide so there was no one to ask when do we get to see the basement.
The weather was perfect today. How perfect? MBH allowed that she was comfortable – not too hot, not too cold, but just right. Now that’s perfect.
After a couple of weeks In the boonies, we rediscovered just how efficient civilization is separating you from your money. Everything costs.
Today was a travel day, as we said Goodbye to Big Bend and Hello to San Antonio and tried not to disturb the motel time forgot lest we too be caught in the same time eddy. In order to do that we had to drive a long way, the longest drive of the trip, but between an 80 MPH speed limit (your actual speed may vary, mine was closer to 85) and a near total lack of traffic the time distance equation solved faster than ever before and probably ever after as well – until we get those flying cars we were promised as kids. Let me say that the only thing west Texas is full of is nothing. Mile after mile of absolutely nothing. I thought the Northeast was full of trees last road trip, RTAWE of blessed memory – but the Southwest has even more creosote bushes. You have to take care to not run out of not just gas, but food and water as well. We drove over a hundred miles on I 10 from Fort Stockton to Ozona without passing any services at all.
While our return to civilization has brought 5G, high speed stable WiFi, a plethora of dining choices, grocery stores that cover acres, and most importantly laundromats (first thing we did after going to the Airbnb was to do laundry), it also brings traffic, humidity, and a general harshing of our mellow. Big Bend National Park and people in Terlingua kept emphasizing how crowded the park was, but compared to most of the other National Parks we’ve been to it was not crowded; I have to wonder how they would react to how crowded a normal city like San Antonio is.
Tomorrow begins the original trip we planned – five days in San Antonio. And guess what, they have a National Park here in town. Hot diggity dog!
Today dawned cold and hazy. We expected another clear day despite yesterday’s dust storm based on our experience in Alamogordo, but apparently the dirt is hardier here in Texas and doesn’t just fall out of the sky like it does in New Mexico. I hate to mention that dirt is as likely to fall out of the sky as water is in the Far SouthWest (for those keeping score at home we’ve had dirt twice and water once) and don’t get me started on how rare trees are around here – even including telephone poles. Speaking of which, we came across a line of them heading out to Rio Grande village, which is more like a visitor center, a store where I bought my souvenir shirt, and an RV park all rolled into one.
We journeyed to the far side of Big Bend National Park and completed the park symphony in three movements: the first begins in the west with the Rio not so Grande flowing out of a canyon and into the park, the second comprises the abrupt rise and fall of the Chisos Mountains, the third ends in the east with the Rio not so Grande flowing into a canyon and out of the park. Each is majestic but distinct from the other in scope and temperament. The first has the most varied scenery, the second is the smallest and most crowded yet the most dramatic, and the third felt the flattest but the most surprising.
One of the surprises was the presence of Mexicans. The Boquillas crossing used to provide cross border access so that Mexicans could essentially run a gift shop selling food and gift shop kitsch to the National Park visitors, but because of the current crisis, what crisis on the border the crossing is closed. However, the Rio not so Grande is not much of a barrier so the kitsch is placed in convenient spots, convenient for visitors and vendors watching across the river who cross over when either money is put in the jar or summoned for food. There was even one guy on horseback staying in the shade offering tamales and tacos. People have to make a living, and plenty of people commute across borders to work. We put a couple of dollars in Jesus the Singing Mexican’s (that’s what his sign sort of said) plastic bottle in part because we enjoyed his singing.
We had an early dinner at the Chili Pepper Cafe. MBH wanted to split a meal and I offered fajitas. She countered with Nachos Grande to avoid green peppers. I accepted saying “it won’t be the last meal I eat.” She countered with if it were, she would have a great story to tell at the funeral. I countered with let’s hope so. Ah, life on the road after almost 33 years together.
We then struck up a conversation with Nick, who’s a local musician who used to live in Alaska until he got cold there, works in the oil industry but is currently laid off, and has done all kinds of construction and has lived in the Terlingua Ranch area for the last 16 years and only uses the water from his roof catchment system. He also mentioned that most locals shower about once a week and the women are the backbone of the community. I’m pretty confident we’ve crossed this part of Texas off the list of places to move to after retirement.
And on that bombshell it’s time to end the post.
Because of the forecast for an afternoon windstorm today, we decided to go to Big Bend Ranch State Park instead of Big Bend National Park and just follow the road along the Rio not so Grande. The views, unlike the water flow in the river, were spectacular, and the drive before we actually entered the park felt like we were on another planet. At the top of a 15% grade that went through a notch in the bluff the wind was blowing so strongly we worried the storm started early. If these posts had a soundtrack you would be hearing the foreshadowing music right now. We pressed on, stopping occasionally to admire the view (hard to do while driving on a twisty and steep road) and take pictures.
We eventually hiked the Closed Canyon trail, so named because before you make it to the end they put up a sign that says Canyon Closed, out of order. Maybe not those exact words, but that’s the gist. So we turned around and went back which we knew we were going to do before we started, but we thought we’d have a spectacular vista as the canyon opened on the Rio not so Grande, or at least something scenic, not just a sign saying none shall pass at the turn around. The hike was great and I highly recommend it if you ever have the hankering to drive hundreds of miles into a wilderness of desolation far from any semblance of civilization, get out of your car, and go for a walk between two towering walls of rock that could collapse and crush you like a bug at any second. That’s what I call a great vacation.
When we started the hike the wind was just a pleasant breeze, when we came back out of the canyon the wind was a howling menace. It was before noon and the advisory was for 1PM, but in retrospect the advisory covered a large swath of Texas and New Mexico so maybe I can cut them some slack with the timing. We were presented with a couple of quandaries: to go on or turn back, and to eat in the car or find a scenic spot. Having driven in a wind storm in Alamogordo, we decided to turn back and discovered that by doing so we were actually getting ahead of the wind. We wound up eating in a roadside steel tipi that had a pleasant view but did not look to be bolted down (yes I checked, just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I stopped being an engineer).
We then spent some time in the Terlingua Ghost Town, which might refer to some old stone ruins, but definitely has a couple restaurants and a spacious gift shop. Yes, that makes twice now we’ve hit a tourist trap in a windstorm. Where else am I going to find lotion with a bourbon, tobacco, and leather scent – still smells good, faintly, hours later. While resting in a restaurant and hearing of the travails they went through during the Valentine’s Day winter storm, including six inches of snow, frozen pipes and loss of power, the lights flickered several times – cue that music again. When we returned to the hotel, you guessed it, no electricity. Life with just 3G and no WiFi is just not civilized, I have no idea how I survived the first 40 years of my life. The length of today’s post is in part explained by boredom, mine and hopefully if you’ve actually read this far not yours.
Just to set your mind at ease, the power came back on around the time I was describing lunch.
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