Texas - Day 1 - grasslands and Panhandle

Amarillo Ranch RV Park, Amarillo
Tuesday, 3 November 2020

One more difference in this stay at Alabaster Caverns State Park versus in August - back then it was almost completely dark during the night here.  The darkness was so unlike any place else I'd stayed that I found it unnerving.  Of course, I expected that same level of darkness this time and was stunned to find how light it was.  Then I realized we still have a full moon going on, and it's amazing how much light a full moon puts out, considering it's not even the source of the light itself.  It wasn't quite like daytime, but it sure wasn't a pitch-dark night either.

Yesterday, it was so warm I turned on the air conditioner for the first time in a while.  Such a contrast with the below-freezing temps we had in Kansas just a week or so ago.  And I needed the cool air because I turned my mattress yesterday afternoon.  I was glad I'd spent the time and money to get a mattress I could turn, to make it last longer.  But even just turning it endwise is a major production because of all the cabinets and walls that hem in the bed space.  It's more of a 2-person project, and I remember my brother helped me turn it over last May or so.  But it needed to be done, and it took a while but I did it.  Then I took the rest of the afternoon off.

I saw 5 deer grazing in the tent area yesterday evening, so I knew to be cautious when I took the dogs out for walks in the morning.  I did see 1 this morning, but it saw us too and disappeared right away.  Dexter didn't really see the deer, just the movement, so I got really lucky.

It's such a tiny campground that there really isn't much of anywhere for us to walk, except places coated with stickers, which are out.  I felt like I was short-changing the dogs but didn't see an alternative.

today's route

On the road

Twenty miles from the campground, we came to Mooreland, which is where I clearly remember getting stuck for a long time waiting for multiple trains to cross the road.  And sure enough, the railroad crossing arms were coming down today too, just as we were approaching.  But unlike last time, today there was only 1 train, and it was moving along at a brisk clip, so we didn't have long to wait.

I remembered there was a decent grocery store down the road in Woodward and stopped there, and managed to find everything I was looking for.  I didn't expect that from a small-town grocery store, but I've been surprised that way several times before.

In Woodward, I was waiting at a traffic light and noticed next to me was a Maserati.  I was so surprised I didn't even notice the license plate.  Not a make of car I'd expect in a small Oklahoma town.

I heard on the radio that OK law doesn't allow poll watchers while the polls are open.  Even Texas allows them, with certain limits of course, so that really surprised me.

OK has a town named Fargo.

Shattuck Windmill Museum

The last town in OK before the Texas border is Shattuck, a town of just under 2,000 folks.  When I was double-checking Google's plan for my route, I accidentally noticed this windmill museum was here and decided to take a look.  Here's a sample of what I saw.

dedicated to the pioneering settlers

they're all different

The cows were thirsty
The sheep were too
They got their water
When the wind blew

a homemade windmill

detail from left

As this windmill shows, these other styles that are mostly familiar to us are all store-bought.  Several that I saw were tagged Montgomery Ward.

This museum is free and nobody seemed to mind that I walked my dogs out to look at the windmills.  It's quite a place.  I was glad I stumbled on it.

Back on the road

And then, Welcome to Texas!

Texas - my 28th state

Texas, where everyone is born with a set of car keys in their hands, as I used to say.  This is not a state where mass transit has ever caught on, which has long been a serious problem for the less financially-advantaged Texans.

In practical terms, what it meant to me today is that the speed limit on most of the roads I saw today was 75 mph.  Even when they were just 2-lane roads, albeit with shoulders.  But I went the speed I was comfortable with and moved over for the real Texas drivers.  And thank goodness I was back in a state where drivers knew to pass me when I signaled to the right and moved over.  Not one of them hung back and made me come to a complete stop, as I've had to do in some states; if they could see a clear road ahead and I pulled over, they passed me.  It's a relief.

I passed scrubland and grazing land with occasional cows.  I passed a lone bicyclist out in the middle of nowhere - well, there was nothing around but very large ranches without a building in sight.

I turned on FM Rd. 2266, which is a very narrow 2-lane road with blind curves, no shoulder whatever and no margin for error.  But, this being Texas, the speed limit was 60 mph.

I passed through the Gene Howe Wildlife Management Area and saw a couple of men dressed in camouflage.  That reminded me that this is hunting season and made me nervous about walking my dogs.  At least the road through that area was paved; the road into the Lake Marvin area was unpaved and very bumpy.

Lake Marvin National Grasslands

Lake Marvin

Lake Marvin is supposed to be 63 acres, though you can see from the sandbars how low the water level was when we were there.  Presumably a product of the ongoing drought in many parts of Texas, including the Panhandle.

It's also considered a prime spot for birdwatchers at times during the year.  In the winter, for instance, the lake hosts a multitude of species of birds, especially various ducks and woodland species.  They say they even get a few Bald Eagles in the winter.  The website I found for TX Parks & Wildlife also lists species for spring and summer, but nothing for the fall, which is now.  I saw some duckies on the lake but couldn't tell what species they were.

The dogs and I walked around for a while until I got tired of pulling stickers out of their feet.  I'm still trying to figure out what constitutes a grassland worthy of federal protection.  To my untutored eye, I've been passing a whole lot of grassland for some days now so don't understand what it is about these areas that needs protecting.  But I can tell you that the State of Texas bought this land in the 1930s to try to return it to its natural pre-Dust Bowl condition.

These are samples of the grassland I saw there.

As you can see, there's grass there, and even I could tell there were a number of different types of grass.  But whether this was what they were protecting, I couldn't tell you.  There were no exhibits or signs anywhere to explain this to me.

You may remember when I was in OK in August I stopped at the joint visitor center for the Washita Battlefield and Black Kettle National Grasslands (this area is part of that grasslands).  They did have exhibits there, but I guess I'd need somebody to stand by my side and point and explain before I'll truly understand why they're protecting this.  Although, if this area used to be part of the Dust Bowl - well, I've seen photos of the lands back then and I'd say their rehab process here was a success.

one more picture of grass

Driving back out of the Wildlife Area, I stopped at a couple of historical markers.

I don't remember seeing historical markers being written in the style of telegraphs, but these sure were.

Back on the road

I crossed the Canadian River and, just like the sign said, I saw the railroad tracks, complete with moving train, on the non-town side of the river.  But the current town of Canadian, pop. 2,649 (remember, TX puts population figures on its city limits signs), is no Hogtown and, anyway, the town has grown enough so the location of the train no longer matters.

In Canadian, I passed a nursery with a sign that said, "You can't buy happiness, but you can buy plants and they bring happiness."

Although the land looked much like I'd seen in western OK and KS, the hills seemed much higher.  The strong winds were back and felt much more dangerous at the high speeds allowed on these roads, so I slowed down considerably. 

I passed a highway sign that said, "Low Visibility - Blowing Dust - Next 1 Mile."  Glad they warned me but not something to induce a high comfort level.

Oddly, I didn't see any Trump signs along this road.

Several counties had signs posted about a burn ban in effect.

I passed huge cotton fields and huge plowed fields and large fields where a crop - likely winter wheat - was growing.  

The land suddenly became very flat and I could see a long way to the horizon.  I passed a huge field full of hay bales, and the Red River Dairy.

Pampa

I drove around the town of Pampa, pop. 17,994, a little, because I've heard of it all my life and just wanted to see what was there.  The main thing I saw was that their solution to possible flooding in the streets was to make the curb gutters deep ditches.  I had to take them all at a crawl (I actually scraped my rear end on one) and got sick and tired of doing that after a few blocks.  These deep ditches crossed every intersection to continue between each block, so they were like a reverse speed bump.

I also noticed that some of the traffic lights were the old-fashioned kind that were on short poles, rather than suspended on an arm over an intersection.  I wondered if they kept these because they were useful in strong winds.

I passed a large factory labeled Cabot, which I hadn't heard of but they make chemical products and at this plant they manufacture carbon blacks (which I thought was a color, not an item) to be used in toner, sealants and coatings.

My overall impression was that Pampa is a flat, dusty Plains town.

Back on the road

Driving away from town I was overtaken by a fancied-up bus with one sign saying "Harvesters" and a bunch of signs saying "Go Lady Harvesters."  You know, I didn't question that formulation back in the early days of women's sports, but it's been enough decades now that it seems to me it's time to stop this nonsense.  To keep things in parity, if they call the girls' team "Lady Harvesters" they should call the boys' team "Gentlemen Harvesters."  They shouldn't be acting any more as if the boys' team was the real team and the girls' team was just an afterthought.  Especially since the girls' teams often win more than the boys' teams.  (Women's soccer, anyone?)

There's a town named White Deer, pop. just under 1,000.  Established 1906, their sign said.

All along the way I've been seeing lots of duckies and geese in the various bodies of water I've passed.

The town of Panhandle, pop. 2,452, claims to be "A People of Pride and Purpose."

I drove parallel with a long train hauling containers, and several of them called themselves "Ecocontainers" because, they said, they had bamboo flooring; some also were made of light steel.

Another highway sign that said "Gusty Winds Area."  Which was a little unnerving since I've been driving in gusty winds for most of the day, but it was indeed a gusty area.

Coming into Amarillo, I passed a very large Tyson plant.

Either Google told me the wrong thing or I wrote the wrong thing down, because I turned the wrong way for tonight's campground and got a non-scenic tour of the frontage road for I-40.  When I figured that out, I found the campground without much problem.  

This campground is owned by the Big Texan Steak Ranch, the one that says they'll give you a free 72-oz. steak meal if: you eat the steak and a shrimp cocktail and a baked potato and a roll with butter in 1 hour or less; you sit at their designated table; no one else touches your meal; you may not leave the table during the hour; if you get sick, you lose; you must pay the full $72 up front, which they'll refund if you meet the challenge.  They've got the winners back to 1960 posted on their website.  I'd rather buy a steak and cook it myself and eat what I want, for a lot less money, but lots of people do it.  There were lots of vehicles parked in their parking lot at 3 PM.

The campground will deliver food from the restaurant to your campsite, which I declined.