Texit

Waxing Gibbous Moon

Can somebody please explain to me how, just six short years ago, in 2013, I managed to ride my bicycle from Plano to El Paso (The Pass)? And how, now, in 2019, I struggled so mightily to operate an internal-combustion-engine driven, four-wheeled truck basically the same distance? Sheesh!

Today I exited Texas via The Pass, but not before stopping at Angie's Restaurant in Fort Hancock to feast on her heavenly vittles. If you read Palomino and the Dream Machine, you may recall my love for Angie's chicken fried steak. If you did not read it, shame on you, but it is not too late to change your evil ways.

I entered New Mexico on Highway 9, the sane, blissful, traffic-less, safe alternative to psychotic I-10. What a relief. Highway 9 essentially parallels the border most of the way across the state. The U. S. Border Patrol maintains a visible, nagging presence on the dirt roads and ranch spurs next to the highway approximately every 300 feet. No need to build a wall here, folks, just fill in the spaces with a few more cops staring out into the void. Solid work, men.

I stopped in Columbus, NM to snap some photos and chat with the dudes in the Railroad Museum/Post Office. This was the site of some mad skirmishes back in the day between Pancho Villa and some old white guy. Pancho got the worst of the skirmishing, but somehow ended up getting the state park on the edge of town named after him - Pancho Villa State Park. Nobody even remembers the other guy except the dudes in the Museum.

An hour or so down the road is Hachita, where nothing presides over everything. Nothing dominates here like nobody's business. Nothing is going on, save rust, wind, and nostalgia.

Two miles past Hachita, though, is a cool Hiker/Biker/Hunter camp. Continental Divide Trail (CDT) hikers or Southern Tier bicycle tourists or random rattlesnake wranglers can pull in here and take a load off.

The CDT crosses Highway 9 about a mile west of the camp. I parked and got out of Spugly for a while to check out the trail in both directions. I have to admit I wanted to wander. Oh, did I want to wander.

Instead, though, I returned to Spugly (the recipient of a fresh oil change at Lube 'N Go in El Paso) and chugged the rest of Highway 9 west to Highway 80 south toward Douglas, AZ. All kinds of cold, nasty weather is supposed to churn its way into America in the next few days, so my strategy is to hide as far south and west as I can get without a passport. Maybe the hawk won't find me.

My hawk evasion plan means avoiding higher elevations, too, so I didn't take the turn up into the mountains to see Chiricahua National Monument. Instead, I stopped at the Apache Museum and the Chiricahua Museum down on the highway to see the snakes. They have all kinds of allegedly live rattlesnakes in glass display cases here. Very peculiar, if not cruel. Of course, I had to take pictures.

Douglas, AZ is right on the border. The main drag is pretty cool. It has murals plus both bike racks and a gazebo, so there you go - this is one high class burg.

Peace and Love From the Desert,
Jim