April 25-May 4: Texas

April 25: Lake Dallas, Texas

Today, it was time to say goodbye to the Wichita Mountains. Two forlorn faces packed up the car, as much of the park was left unseen. We made a pact to return someday and set off to our next adventure.

Driving duties were assigned to me as Henry worked in the passenger seat. Not a bad drive overall, though detours were made to several Tractor Supply stores. The search was on for a bladder that could hold water while traveling, as our tanks in the trailer aren’t sturdy enough to hold the 30 gallons and handle all the bumps on the road. No bladder was found, but some ducklings were!

We set up camp at Lake Dallas under a sun that felt as if it was trying to personally attack us. After five hours on the road, our only goal was to bask in the air conditioning inside. Naturally, some chaos ensued! While unhitching the trailer, something that should’ve been straightforward, the tongue jack was lowered onto the red bucket that acted as its support. This time, the bucket had other ideas. Due to some chunky gravel underneath, it vibrated just enough to shift the jack. The trailer tilted, as if it were considering falling over completely. Our chocks held though, and the only thing truly shaken up was us. The gravel was rearranged, and the process repeated successfully.

Once inside, we relaxed a bit and got ready for dinner. A meetup had been planned with my college roommate, Michelle, and her boyfriend. I was excited to see her as it had been a couple of years.

The chosen venue was a lively mall in McKinney, Texas, with a parking lot designed for sedans and enthusiasts of masochism. Henry attempted to squeeze the truck into two spots, failed, and gathered a small audience in the process, Michelle and her boyfriend included. Eventually, we secured a spot. The first attempt at parking was sideways. The truck ended up three inches from another giant truck, and Henry was ready to call it. I utilized my veto rights and made him straighten it up to avoid a nice new art piece on the side of the truck from someone’s key.

Dinner was fun. It was nice to catch up with Michelle, I wish she lived closer! We headed back to the trailer to rest before our trip to Dallas.

April 26: Dallas, Texas

Saturday came with sunshine and a sense of adventure. The first stop was The Dallas World Aquarium, which is a bit of a misnomer, as many of the creatures there would shudder at the thought of living in water. Whatever, though, because it was cool. Axolotls, crocodiles, bats, these freaky glow-in-the-dark fish, owls, and seahorses were admired. Then there he was, the Harpy eagle. Ginormous, prehistoric, SCARY. He sat perched in his jungle kingdom by himself, looking down at us peons at the window. Every so often, he’d indulge his audience, spreading his wings that spanned over 6 feet. I just imagined being stuck in the rainforest with that guy while he’s hungry. Not ideal!

I fled from the Harpy eagle to the Katy Trail Ice House on the suggestion of my best friend and former roommate, Mac. He went to college at Southern Methodist University, so he was sending us on a sort of nostalgia tour. The summer beer was his top recommendation, and I could see why. It was a mix of Blue Moon, vodka and lemonade. Delicious, but heady in small quantities!

With summer beers guzzled down, the next stop was Deep Ellum. Much more my speed; artsy and gritty in a good way. We stopped at The Armoury and danced to the live music outside in the sunshine.

Summer beers were starting to catch up to me, so we headed home. Sleep called me home at 8 PM. The road had worn us down a bit, so it was much-needed rest. Travel would resume tomorrow!

April 27: San Angelo, Texas

The journey to San Angelo began today! The drive was a bit long and windy, but otherwise fine. The real challenge began once we arrived, locating the campsite! San Angelo State Park was vast, with a north and south entrance. The south entrance was closest, so it was tried first. Then our campsite was located on the map: north entrance. A scenic U-turn was made. Once at the north entrance, a padlocked gate blocked our entry. A sign alerted us that the code lay in the south entrance. No code materialized at the south entrance! It occurred to me to search the damn emails they sent. In the fifth email, at the very bottom in tiny text, was the code to the gate. We returned to the north entrance yet again, and were granted access.

The park was pretty empty, but impressively green. Upon further inspection, the green that enrobed the ground was not grass, but an infestation of cacti! I’d never seen so many in one place. Setup began as the sun was setting. The cactus practically glowed under the orange and pink sky. Near our campsite was a little creek surrounded by more cacti and yellow flowers. A desert oasis!

April 30: Terlingua, TX

Today, the journey began to the main event: Big Bend National Park. Excitement bubbled in the car. The road wound through some of the most stunning mesas and mountains. No cell service, no houses, no stores. Just us and the desert. It was the kind of place that made the rest of the world feel imaginary.

The campground emerged after about an hour, but it wasn’t a site in Big Bend. I had been fighting for my life on recreation.gov, trying to secure a site, but it was futile. How anyone manages to RV camp in there is a mystery to me, right up there with high-school level math and the mechanics of time. It really is just like a construct, right?

Mountains scattered everywhere, flanking the road to Terlingua Ranch Primitive Camp. Trailers of all kinds dotted the landscape. It appears that some people own land at the foothills of these mountains, but it’s so remote that attempting to build a house would be a nightmare. The road was paved, but windy and bumpy. Looking at the mirrors, I saw Winnie bobbing along the path, growing nervous about our belongings inside. 16 miles to go!

The HipCamp booking said the path to the site was unpaved. Given the size of our truck, it didn’t occur that this could be an issue. What we didn’t anticipate was just how unpaved the road was. The ground was striated with deep grooves, and large rocks jutted out of the dirt, mocking us and our puny city tires. Every bump reminded us that the Ram’s suspension is built for performance. It has no sympathy for you and your vertebrae. The dashboard of the car rattled violently, begging us to stop putting it through this torment. I clutched my seatbelt, keeping my hands away from my mouth to save my fingernails. 3 more miles to go!

The torture of the unpaved road ended, spitting us out at our campground. The spot we were instructed to go to was occupied by someone in a tent. A quick trip to the front desk yielded a new site. Better yet, it turned out to be further away from our neighbors, whose RV had seen better days, and possibly nuclear warfare. Camp setup began, and I couldn’t stop staring at the mountain that lay in the foreground. The sun radiated off of it, painting the mountain a fiery orange in contrast with the perfectly blue sky. The mountain loomed over us, not in an intimidating way, but as if to say, “Welcome to my home”.

The sun began sinking, bringing with it a beautiful pink. The silhouette of a large mountain range sat in front, radiating yellow from the highest peak. Amidst this breathtaking scenery, bocce ball was played and dinner enjoyed. The sky grew darker. We sat and admired as the stars danced across the pitch black. Two long fleets of Starlink satellites traversed like some sort of cosmic train. I pondered what people 1,000s of years ago would’ve thought of the sight. The reverence for the stars and the moon as gods didn't seem so strange now.

Amidst this beauty, my only wish was for the moon to shrink. It was nearly full, and its bright, white light cast too far. I’m sure without its radiance, we could’ve seen the Milky Way. I have hope, though, that another location will grace us with this gift. For now, we sat awestruck, talking about constellations and planets and the universe, feeling immensely grateful for the chance to witness a beauty so abundant.

May 1: Terlingua, TX

I stepped outside, my eyes eager to soak up all of the beauty of our surroundings. The sun was high, warming my skin and bleaching the desert sand into a yellow-brown. The sky was yet again a picturesque blue. Henry was working away while I handled breakfast and coffee. Setting up my desk outside, I again admired the scenery. A little writing for this Substack followed, since someone has to update our adoring fans!

That prickly, dry feeling of the sun’s beams began to attack my skin. I needed the pool. The water was freezing cold, and just what I needed to cool off from the harsh desert sun. I had no complaints. I was swimming in the desert, surrounded by majestic mountains.

Dinner prep began, as did the setup of the big table and tablecloth my mom gave us outside. Tonight we would head into Big Bend to again watch the stars. Packing up the car, excitement built; it was going to be amazing!

Stopping about 40 minutes into our 1-hour-long drive, a gas stop revealed the reality of remote living. The prices were insane, $5 a gallon! Onward, the scenery grew even more breathtaking. A long road ushered us into the park, surrounded by large mountains and cactus and other verdant desert plants. Dusk settled over the desert, and the sky became a powder blue. An orange and yellow glow sat on the horizon. Stepping out of the car, we took in the scenery, then headed to the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive.

The whole route of the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive is 30 miles! The sun was already sinking, so we settled for a shoulder on the road, about 3 miles in. Setting up our chairs, we noticed the sky’s transformation. A vibrant orange and yellow, with hints of deep red streaked across the sky. Mountains lay in the foreground and background. Nature’s soundtrack of bugs chirping away lulled us into a peaceful trance. I’ve never seen anything so stunning in my life.

The sky began to darken. Around 9:00, stars were appearing. Millions of them, putting on a show, twinkling brilliantly. Another fleet of Starlink passed by. Looking to the east, strange flashes of light appeared behind the mountains. Aliens or thunder? I don't know, you decide. Around 10:30, we embarked on the drive home, hearts feeling full.

May 30: Terlingua, TX

Today, another adventure lay in our path. A man who worked at Terlingua Primitive Ranch struck up a conversation with Henry. He was surprised to learn that we lived in New York, and decided to enlighten us yuppies with some local knowledge.

First, and slightly too late, he warned us that the gas station in Terlingua would “rape us in the ass” with the prices. Yes, that is verbatim what he said. Incredibly crude, but he was correct. He informed us there was a gas station in the national park that was federally regulated, therefore merciful in its prices. Then, he recommended the Balanced Rock trail in Big Bend and a visit to Terlingua Ghost Town. So, in the evening, we embarked on a trip to the Ghost Town.

Sitting outside, overlooking the mountains of Terlingua, we indulged in guacamole, horchata, tacos, and elote. The restaurant had nopales tacos, which I was very excited about, and hit the spot. This was definitely the best Mexican food we’d had so far. After dinner, came the Starlight Theatre, a charming western saloon with live music. Lots of people milled about the dimly lit bar while a band covered “Wild Horses” by the Rolling Stones. As I sipped on my spicy prickly pear margarita, I wondered if this was heaven.

Around 9, it was time to return to camp. Pulling up in the parking lot in front of Winnie, loud music reverberated. Curiosity led us to investigate. A live band was playing on the patio of the campground’s restaurant! The wind had picked up, and with it, chill desert air, so we fetched jackets and beers.

Returning to the patio, a surprising number of people danced in front of the band as they played psychedelic Spanish music. The wind was whipping through the air, but no one seemed to mind. Henry and I joined, letting the high spirits of the evening wash over us. After a good amount of dancing, we returned to camp, needing some rest for the Balanced Rock hike tomorrow morning.

May 3: Terlingua, TX

Sleep came to an end too soon, as we needed to get a head start on the day. Preparation for the hike began, packing water, sunscreen, and protein bars into my backpack. The sun hadn’t had enough time yet to roast the air, so jackets were necessary.

We hit the road, headed towards the Balanced Rock trail. The road to the trail was unpaved, with large, pointy rocks at the ready to attack our tires, though Henry navigated the trail well. Reaching the trailhead, we started our trek. The mountains on this trail were strange. The faces were comprised of square and rectangular rocks, shining a vibrant orange. The trail was relatively easy until the last 10 minutes or so. A large, rocky hill sat before us. Traversing it, we came upon two large rocks that you could probably describe as balanced. However, that felt way too easy and too short. Looking around to see if anyone else knew what they were doing, we found another confused group. The group leader checked the map and found the proper trail, and we followed. Shout out to her! Some rocky, narrow paths led us to the top where the true Balanced Rock lay. The view of the park from this vantage point was lovely. We admired, then began the hike back down, as it was nearly 11 AM. Time to check out!

Packing up the camper was easy, as our process has streamlined a little bit. I needed to return the key to the pool to the office, so we headed over there. Exiting the car, I saw a man pull up in his truck. Out of the truck hops a goat! He is wearing a collar and following the man around like a dog. The man is sitting in a rocking chair on the porch of the office, and his goat sits next to him as he pets it. It was really cute, and I wish I had asked for their picture, but the scene was so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb them.

After checking out, it was time to dump the grey and black tanks. All was well, so it was time to head to our next destination, Marfa. The gentleman who told us about the gas station, the ass rape guy, as he’s colloquially known in our household, also informed us of a route to Marfa that is on the Mexico/United States border on FM170. The route was hilly and windy, but reaching the apex of the mountain, a jaw-dropping view emerged. Huge mountains took shape in the sky, and patches of green grass sat along the shoreline of the Rio Grande. Driving along, I peered across to the beautiful, mountainous towns of Mexico. I wondered how they were spending their Sunday afternoon. Were they also marveling at the mountains around them?

Continuing to drive, Henry spotted an area for us to pull over. The road led to the shoreline of the Rio Grande. A sign near warned of the invisible border line. It was in the middle of the river, and you would incur a $5,000 fine for crossing. The water on the river was low, and a sandbar poked up near the middle. Of course, Henry wanted to go on the sandbar and “cross” the border. At this point, we hadn’t seen any border patrol, probably due to the mountainous landscape. I would think if anyone wanted to cross, they wouldn’t choose this location. However, I was still apprehensive, because knowing the U.S. government, there was probably a camera disguised as a boulder or something. Gotta collect that precious fine money somehow! Henry did go on the sandbar, but he didn’t go in the middle. So, in case any government agents are reading this on Substack or keylogging my computer, I’m not paying a $5,000 fine if you send it my way.

Returning to the car, the drive to Marfa continued. Closer to Marfa, we drove through a town called Shafter. The town was very small, definitely a ghost town. On a bluff above the road, there was an entrance to the Shafter mine. Upon further research, this mine was the filming location for the opening scene of one of my favorite movies, There Will Be Blood! The film history surrounding Marfa is what led us to the town. Giant, There Will Be Blood, and No Country for Old Men were all filmed there. Giant and TWBB are some of my favorites, so this intrigued me.

5 PM came, and Marfa was in our sights! Driving ahead, a sign reading “Inspection point” flashed. Henry’s eyes grew wide. “Is that a border patrol station?” I responded no, I thought it was for truckers. As the sign grew closer, we merged into a lane that was surrounded by a building. Readers, it indeed was border patrol. We stopped, and the agent inquired about our last location. Henry was caught off guard, stumbling over his words. I managed to eek out “Terlingua!” He said “Ok”, and let us through. They were probably using infrared cameras or something to check the car and trailer, as two agents were flanking us. I’m not sure why it made us so nervous. I guess we were just caught off guard, never having experienced that.

Finally, our campsite appeared. Once camp was set up, we headed to Marfa Spirit Co. for a drink. Set in an old building right on the railroad tracks, the bar had great ambiance. Outside, it was dark and rainy, and every so often, a train would ride past the bar. An open window sat facing the tracks, and you could see the trains whizzing by, feeling the building shake. It was the perfect small town, desert spirit I was seeking. The bar began to fill up, and we grew tired, so it was time to head back to camp.

May 4: Marfa, TX

The plan for today was to head out early and explore Marfa. However, as you all know by now, man plans, God laughs. Entering the truck, everything was fine. Driving a couple of hundred feet, however, everything was not fine. A loud hiss! Exiting the truck, our rear tire on the right was quickly deflating. No big deal, we have a spare. Henry went below the car to retrieve the tire, learning that the piece of shit dealership the car was purchased from didn’t give him the tool to lower the spare. We learned later that our treacherous drives in Terlingua had led to a rock being lodged in the tire, which then pierced it and went through the tire.

AAA was called, and after a couple of hours the spare was lowered and Henry put it on. Finally, around noon, our drive into town began. The first stop was to The Sentinel, a newspaper in Marfa that runs a cafe to help fund the paper. Coffee was sipped outside in the sun on their patio. Loud cheers rang out in the distance. I wondered if a school was having a soccer game or something nearby. After coffee came lunch, then some chores around the house.

Back in town later that evening, we sat at the bar in Hotel Saint George. The Hemingway daiquiri I was sipping was delicious. Our bartender was very friendly. A dust storm had been blowing through town when we arrived last night, and we inquired about the weather. She said that dust storms and tornadoes had been increasing here, but overall, she enjoyed living in Marfa. She moved from North Texas because her father was from here. Strolling around the area after drinks, we spotted a cute wine bar that had a nice dinner menu. Reaching for the door, it was locked. A sign read, “Closed for arm wrestling tournament at Planet Marfa”. That’s what all the screaming earlier was about! I was disappointed to miss the tournament, but headed towards Planet Marfa anyway, because any bar with an arm wrestling tournament is somewhere I want to be.

Planet Marfa was cool. Entirely outdoors, the bar was in a small shed-like building, almost like a treehouse. A spiral staircase on the treehouse led to the roof, where chairs sat facing a stage where a band played. Lots of people were strewn about, enjoying beers and conversation. Henry and I played some pool and the hook and ring game, and sat to enjoy the live music.

Dinner was calling, so we headed back to camp. After dinner, we drove to the mural for the movie Giant. Overall, our time in Marfa was nice; it was quaint and had a charming desert vibe.

From Marfa, we headed to Van Horn. No offense to Van Horn, but it was nothing special. There was a giant dust storm in Van Horn, and the whole scene was very apocalyptic. We stayed there for one night and embarked on our next adventure to New Mexico.