In transit to Missouri

Tulsa NE/Will Rogers Downs KOA, Claremore

Wednesday, 31 March 2021

At 1:00 AM (I looked at the clock), we suddenly got a deluge of rain, and I saw lightning through the skylight.  I didn't hear thunder, which doesn't usually bother me anyway, and went right back to sleep.  But in the morning I found Gracie huddled by the bathroom door, having apparently tried to get in so she could cower in the shower (heh).  I knew that thunderstorms had been predicted so, thinking ahead for once, I'd put her Thunder Shirt on her last night.  Don't know if it helped or not, because I don't know if we even had thunder.  Well, I tried.

today's route

As I was leaving Mt. Pleasant, I saw a sign at a business that said, "I have never faked a sarcasm in my life."

I also passed a nice little lake and recreation area just outside of town.  That helped explain the billboards I'd seen when I was traveling east from Possum Kingdom the other day, advertising Mt. Pleasant with views of lake-connected activities.

Not far out of town I ran into what seemed like a hailstorm of big bugs that splattered so completely on the windshield I honestly couldn't see the road.  I found a Dollar General that was still closed and pulled into its parking lot to reclean the windows I'd spent so much time cleaning just yesterday.  One of those bugs was caught in the wipers, but I didn't know what kind it was.  Big and black is all I know.

And only a few miles farther on, once I got back on the road, we got a sudden burst of heavy rain.  If I still had a windshield covered with bug bodies, running the wipers over that would have made a terrible mess so I was glad I'd stopped when I did (though the lack of visibility gave me little choice).

Traveling north, I came to a string of small towns - like Deport, pop. 578 - that were 5 or 10 or 15 miles apart, separated by large farms.  I saw lots of plowed fields, more of that green grassy crop, orchards, cows, lots of school zones actively functioning again.

In Paris ("Always a Good Idea"), where I visited a few months ago, I saw a billboard for a collision repair shop: "Highly Wreck-O-Mended."

And not much farther along the road I came to "Welcome To Oklahoma."  I'd crossed the Red River without even noticing it, so low was its water level.

One of those electronic highway signs said, "Help Out Our Peeps - Stay Aware In Construction Zones."  They want people to stay off their phones, of course.  I was just taken by their use of "peeps."  Don't remember seeing a highway department do that before.

The storm that brought last night's rain was traveling with us, I guess, because we got occasional rain - sometimes quite heavy - all during the day.  There was also a very strong, cold, northerly wind that made steering really hard for much of the day.  It was odd, but I'd noticed back in Mt. Pleasant that the temperature was brisk but not bad.  But by the time we'd gotten up to Antlers in southern OK, the air had gotten downright chilly.  Made walking the dogs very unappealing.

In Atoka, I saw a sign advertising a roofing company: Son of the Most High Roofing.  The sign showed a drawing of a cross, tilted over to rest on the cross bar, with a man climbing up the long beam as if he were a worker climbing a roof.  At what point does appropriation of religious symbols become blasphemy?

I noticed that the trees up here were just starting to leaf out.  Maybe I'll get to see spring again when I'm in Missouri.

The Choctaw Nation owns 8 casinos, and I started feeling like I was passing all of them - it just seemed like I saw seeing one after another after another.

I came to an area with a lot of redbuds - several miles of them - and they made a nice change in a landscape that was still in the pre-spring stage (blah).

In and around McAlester, I saw a series of billboards posted by a local labor union, protesting the upcoming closure of an aerospace plant.  One said, "You have prospered here.  Don't devastate our town by closing down your plant."  Another said, "Honor your commitments."  And a third said merely, "Shame on you."  I looked it up and found a request for an injunction the union filed last month in court.  Interesting point of view.   https://www.mcalesternews.com/lawsuit-spirit-violated-cba-in-plant-closure-plan

I don't know how I missed this part of the state when I spent my month in Oklahoma, but I quite clearly did - on the map (above) the blue line is where I traveled in August, and the orange line is where I traveled today.  So in August I missed seeing Lake Eufala, which my mom and I had seen on a trip some years ago.  Once seen, hard to forget, because this lake goes for miles.  Actually, I can't find anybody online to tell me how long the lake is; the most I get is that it offers 600 miles of shoreline.  It's a long, narrow lake and various bridges cross a whole lot of it lengthwise.  Fortunately, they're all easy bridges to drive on, so I mostly just enjoyed the scenery.  Naturally, it's a very popular recreation destination.

From the time I turned north in Atoka, I was on US 69, and I realized part way through I should have been keeping count of the number of construction areas I went through.  Some were just a nuisance with the road narrowed to 2 lanes and no shoulders, but there were several areas that were one-lane-at-a-time.

At one of the construction areas, I saw 12 empty dump trucks of various sizes waiting in a long line to be loaded with dirt from whatever today's version of a steam shovel is - and I saw maybe half a dozen more coming down the road to take their place in line.  That's a lot of dirt they're moving.

North of Muskogee I crossed the Verdigris River at a point where it balloons out into something almost like a lake.  And I counted 8 Great Egrets fishing along the shore, with 4 more flying around.  No telling how many others were there that I couldn't see from the road.  That's a lot of Great Egrets.

At the town of Chouteau, with a population around 2,100, it seemed like I was seeing an awful lot of antiques stores.  Now that I've looked it up, I see that TripAdvisor's list of Things To Do In Chouteau has 9 things - all antiques stores.

The point of today's drive was to get from Mt. Pleasant as close to Missouri as I could.  Google told me it would be a 5-hour drive to tonight's campground, and it took me about 8½.  

When we got to the KOA, the Will Rogers Downs was quite actively involved in horse races, so I had to be careful to keep the race track out of sight when I walked the dogs.  They both go bonkers when they see horses.

And when I registered, I learned that many of the others in the campground were there for a dog show.  I saw 2 Great Danes (in the same RV), 2 Dobermans (in separate RVs), 2 Poodles (in the same RV, but only one of which had a show-type haircut), and 3 big Golden Retrievers (in the same RV).  These were all beautiful dogs, clearly healthy and bouncy and well-groomed and well-mannered.  Made me feel like a bad mother for neglecting mine so much.  And I had to be careful when I walked mine to avoid sight of all of them, along with the horses, which was a little tricky at times.

It was a lot of driving today, but it means I can spend most of my first day in Missouri actually being in Missouri, instead of traveling to get there.

My month(s) in Texas

My take on Texas

where I went this month(s)

I came to Texas on April 2nd of last year but the time I've spent focusing on visiting and learning about Texas was actually 5 months - November 2020 through March 2021.  Unfair to spend so much more time here than in all the other states I've visited, but Texas is, after all, an enormous state acreage-wise (268,561 square miles), and thanks to COVID I had some extra time.  Every time I started to think about getting back on the road, there'd be another flood of cases, and few of the states I wanted to visit were handling it well.  After dealing with a couple of serious case surges of its own, Texas seemed to be doing as good a job as most, so I kept deciding to stay here.  

I spent 4 months hunkering down at David & Anna's house, then spent a month in each of Oklahoma, Colorado and Kansas, and then the remaining 5 months on a tour to get to know the state I've spent more than half my life in (all added together).  And despite all my years here, I learned a lot more than I expected.

You can see from the map above that even after 5 months of travel there are still some blank spots, especially in west Texas.  But I also noticed that over time, that pink marker would fade or get rubbed off, so I had to keep re-marking the routes when I'd notice them.  Still, you can see I did my best to cover a big area.

Texas's land

I grew up knowing that, because of its size and geographical position, Texas has a wide range of geographical features.  But it's one thing to see the deep woods of east Texas on a trip, the deserts of Big Bend country on another trip, the Gulf of Mexico at Port Aransas or Corpus Christi on still another trip, and the Hill Country at other times.  But seeing them all strung together, as I did, made me understand much more clearly than I ever had before just how much physical diversity there is here.

I grew up thinking of west Texas and the Panhandle as being, basically, a desert and always wondered why anyone would live there.  All these decades later, I'm still not a fan of deserts but I have a much clearer appreciation for the attraction and beauty of that area.  Montana may have the big sky country they claim, but west Texas too has skies without horizons.  And it's rural enough that those huge skies are filled with stars - the McDonald Observatory, of international importance, is located in west Texas, after all.

This was my first time to travel in the Rio Grande Valley, and I now understand why it's seen as being so distinct from the rest of the state.  It's agricultural in a completely different way than the farming in either east or west Texas, because the climate is different there.  The Valley includes the longest stretch of border with our southern neighbor than is found anywhere else, and the area has been settled for hundreds of years by people with their roots in Mexico.  Border towns often take on aspects of both cultures that meet there (as I saw in upper Maine), so these border towns showed heavy cultural influences from Mexico and early Spanish missionaries, as well as the settlers from the eastern US.  I found them all vibrant places where capitalism is alive and well.

Although I'd visited and traveled through places in east Texas all my life, I never really understood the extent of the lush vegetation I saw throughout that region.  It especially stands out in contrast to the spare landscape in the west - there there's no end to the view, but here the view lasts only as long as the next tree that blocks it.  This is a good area for growing things, obviously, and grow they do.  Again, in stark contrast with the west, there are far more towns in east Texas, and you're never more than 25 or 30 miles from the next town, with collections of houses scattered all along between them.

The Hill Country seemed to me to be west Texas that had been crinkled up into a constant series of hills.  It was arid, with west Texas landscapes that were compressed because of occurring on hillsides instead of flat earth.

And finally there's the Gulf Coast.  I really wanted to spend much more time along the coast than I did and was hampered because, in the winter, so many folks from the northern US were taking up camping spaces.  Ideally I should have been here in October, to catch the time in between summer and winter travelers.  I'm just lucky I spent so much time along the coast at other times in my life, so at least I know what's there.

The one glaring gap in the locations I visited is the cities.  I went to El Paso, Fort Worth and Austin, and that's about it.  Even though I passed through Dallas, I avoided the downtown area strenuously.  Same with Houston and San Antonio.  I would have liked to see these places from my new perspective as visitor in an RV, but each time I just felt like there was too much else to see to take the time.

And that's the real problem I had here: time.  The distances everywhere - especially in west Texas - are enormous and took me hours just to drive through, let alone explore.  And even though I spent 5 months looking around, I never felt I had enough time to see it all.

Texas's people

A woman I met in a campground in west Texas told me Texans are the friendliest people she's ever met.  And others made similar comments to me.  Being a native Texan, I'm glad they had that experience but it wasn't mine.

Almost all the people I met were pleasant and would talk if I asked them questions, but I've met many in other states who were much more open than I met here.

On the other hand, anything I asked for, I got - from simple conversation to mechanical assistance to directions.  It's just that people didn't volunteer things, which surprised me.  If anybody had asked me before this trip whether Texans are friendly, I'd have said yes without hesitation, but I wouldn't say that now.  I don't know what's changed or when the change happened, but folks aren't the way I remember them growing up.  A real shame.

Texas's drivers

I've spent the last 3 years using Texas drivers as an unfavorable standard against which I measured drivers in other states.  That too is an attitude I'm changing.  On this trip I've found the drivers here to be much like those in most other states.  People were much more willing than I remembered to pull over to let me enter the highway, and they were no more reluctant than any other drivers to let me merge in front of them when I had to.

When I was driving in the vicinity of a large city, I found the traffic to be of the white-knuckle variety on the surrounding highways, but since I avoided those as much as possible, I didn't have to deal with it.  In the more rural areas, the traffic was more laid back, just like the way of life.

Throughout the state, I encountered almost no tailgaters, unlike my memories of driving in Texas.  And I was surprised to note that there weren't many excessive speeders either.  I have no idea how to account for the changes I saw, but they made driving here for so many months much less nerve-wracking than I'd feared.

And while there were definitely sections of roads that needed major help from paving companies, in general, I could count on roads being reasonably comfortable, both in the pavement and in the directional signs.  From interstates down to farm-to-market roads, I could assume driveable conditions.  It was only when Google wanted me to turn down side streets in cities and towns, or onto county roads, that I started running into trouble.  As I've always believed, Texas is a good state to drive in.

the previous plate, still frequently seen

the current license plate

What I didn't see that I wanted to see

Quite a bit, actually, despite all the extra time I spent here.  I mentioned a number of things in my daily posts.  But beyond those, there was a wide range of places I missed.  As examples:  

   * The Dr. Pepper Museum in Waco and, more seriously, the Waco Mammoth National Monument, with fossils of Ice Age mammoths they're uncovering.  

   * All kinds of sights in the large cities, such as San Antonio's Alamo and Riverwalk.

   * The smaller places also have attractions, such as Grapevine, in the DFW area, that has a glockenspiel in a 127' tall tower.  When it chimes at noon and 6 PM, 2 gunfighters (9' tall and 250 pounds each) have a shootout.  (You can't make this stuff up.)

   * The small town of Comfort, near Fredericksburg, was settled in the 1800s by Germans looking for political and religious freedom.  Then came the Civil War, and most of them - grateful for the protections and freedom they'd found in the United States - were strongly in favor of the Union.  Texas voted to secede, however, and in that political climate minority dissent wasn't tolerated.  Rather than swear allegiance to the South - let alone fight for the Confederacy - a large group of these German men tried to cross the border to Mexico.  They were intercepted by Confederate soldiers, and many were severely wounded or killed.  Instead of treating the wounded and burying the dead, the Southerners (gentlemen all) shot the wounded and left all the bodies to rot where they fell, an inhumanity that didn't inspire converts among the Germans.  In 1866, Comfort erected a monument to honor the memory of those who were loyal to the Union.  I'd wanted to see it and am sorry I missed it.

   * In Irving, also in the DFW area, there's a work of art titled Mustangs of Las Colinas that's supposed to be the world's largest horse sculpture.

Of course with the virus, many places were closed, and even with those that were open I didn't feel comfortable going inside.  As time went on and people became more convinced the virus was real and more aware of how to fight it, businesses started taking more precautions like limiting the number of visitors and requiring masks.  But I still missed a lot out of fear.  I'd look forward to coming back sometime when we're back to normal.

My conclusion

In general, I liked Texas.  At times, I liked it a lot.  It's a fascinating state, historically, physically, and culturally.  I believe it has a great deal of promise that's not being realized because too many in charge - both of government and of industry - are wedded to the past.

Texas is no longer the state I grew up in, thank goodness.  Although I found it comfortable to grow up here because my family was white and middle-class, I know that comfort was denied to many people.  In the 1950s, Texas was a thoroughly majority-white state, and segregation was rampant and enforced with an iron fist.

Today, Texas is a minority-white state, with only 41% being what's called non-Hispanic white.  Now, 40% are of Hispanic heritage, 13% identify as Black, more than 5% are Asian. 

The Texas power structure - composed almost exclusively of Republicans at the moment - has apparently seen the writing on the wall and, believing politics to be a zero-sum game, is desperately trying to hang on to what they've had, rather than simply sharing power with newcomers and trying to open up their tent.  

Darwin taught that change is the law of Nature, and those who change to adapt to a changing world will survive successfully; a group that has adapted only to a preferred habitat succeeds only as long as that habitat lasts.  The world in general, and Texas in particular, has been changing dramatically.

I don't see those in power being willing to adapt to these changes but instead fighting as usefully as trying to stop the ocean's tide.  That struggle is playing out in many ways - school policies, health policies, funding policies, voting policies.  To me, the authorities are stubbornly insisting that Texas continue business as it's been for 50 years.  What I was seeing as I traveled is an increasing sense that Texans are just as stubborn as their leaders and change is beginning to play out statewide.  

Despite the number of Trump signs and flags I continued to see months after the election was over, I saw far fewer Confederate flags than I used to.  Texans are not only becoming a different racial mix, they're becoming younger and increasingly open to ideas of fairness and inclusion.  Things are changing here - slowly, it's true - but the more intransigent the leaders are, the faster change will come.

Texas - Days 143 - 147 - in the campground

Mt. Pleasant KOA, Mt. Pleasant

Friday, 26 through Tuesday, 30 March 2021

The only thing that've changed in this campground since I was here 2 weeks ago are that the trees are now leafed out, there are lots of wildflowers around, and the fence along one side of the campground is covered with wisteria - really pretty.

The dogs and I have some routes we've established for our multiple walks each day - I try to vary them so we don't all get too bored with being in the same place for so long.  And I have to vary them depending on which campers have dogs to complicate our routes.  This is the place with the enormous dog park, and another area that's an open field, and though I don't trust the dogs to let them off-leash in the field, we can still walk all around and sniff whatever they find that's new.

These photos are of Lily reacting to a Mockingbird that spent quite a bit of time dancing around right in front of the screen door.  In the photo on the right she's making that ack-ack-ack sound that cats do when they're looking at birds.  It was pretty funny.

I worked diligently and got all caught up on the many posts for the many days of traveling I hadn't written about.  I also figured out a route to get me to Missouri and made reservations along the way.  

Despite my wariness over the virus and the various responses (or lack thereof) in other states, I'm still glad to be getting back on the road.  It was exactly one year ago this Thursday that I cut short my trip and came back to Texas, intending at the time to wait out the virus.  Little did I know . . .

But at least during this year I visited Oklahoma, Colorado, Kansas and Texas, so it hasn't been a total loss.  Still, I miss the travel, and these last couple of weeks have made me realize how much I've been missing seeing new places and new things.  And I'm sure that somewhere along the way I'll finally be able to get vaccinated, which will help relieve some of my concern.  Still, I've managed to dodge the virus so far by being as careful as I can, so I have hopes I'll be able to make it through safely.

I've also been doing chores - laundry, groceries, prescription refills, like that.  I hadn't cleaned my windows since I left here before, so wiping off 3 weeks worth of dirt, dust and pollen took a while - but of course the view is worth it.

I figured I'd celebrate the end of my "month" in Texas and the beginning of the next chapter by honoring the 6-month anniversary of Halloween: ordering out for pizza and watching my favorite dumb movie, Soapdish.  And of course enjoying the scent of the wisteria.

Texas - Day 142 - Possum Kingdom to Mt. Pleasant, via Richardson

Mt. Pleasant KOA, Mt. Pleasant

Thursday, 25 March 2021

There was quite the storm last night, though I hear some places north of Dallas got some enormous hail, which we got none of at Possum Kingdom.  I can deal with rain and wind.

[route map] 

I'm currently arguing with my computer programs that insist I'm still importing photos from my camera from several days ago and I need to close that window before importing others.  Except I'm not still importing any and there is no other window to close.  I'm not asking the help people the right questions so aren't getting useful answers.  I'll keep working at it and post the photo when I can access it.  Basically what I did was travel nearly due east from Possum Kingdom to Mt. Pleasant, with several stops in Richardson on my way.

The park road from the state park had a 55 mph limit on it, but there were numerous unmarked cattle guards and deer and s-curves marked 30 mph - so I didn't get much chance to go 55.

A mile or so outside of Mineral Wells I came to a detour, with a sign saying the road was closed ahead.  So I dutifully followed the detour signs but quickly came to the conclusion I'd made a mistake.  The detour was poorly marked and I drove for miles and miles with no hint how much longer the detour was going to take.  My trusty AAA map gave me a hint, though, because I could see the route they were likely taking me on, and it was a very long way around.  In fact, it ended up being a 31-mile detour.  And the whole way I was thinking I'll bet I could have figured out a way through town around that detour, and assumed what they were really trying to do was keep large trucks out of the streets of Mineral Wells.  Oh well.

The traffic level increased to substantial dimensions when I got near Fort Worth, and of course kept up all the way through Dallas.  Still, aside from that detour I didn't run into any problems.

In Richardson I got rid of 3 weeks worth of recycling materials, thank goodness.  And I went to an Albertson's I like and, besides my groceries, I got some fried chicken, which I planned to eat on for several days.  Odd that I haven't found grocery stores that carried their own fried chicken anywhere along that route I've just finished.  Maybe I was in the wrong stores.

I also had a brief but nice visit with David and Anna and picked up my mail.  As usual, Dexter was quivering with excitement when we turned onto their street - he can recognize the neighborhood by sight.  David and I dumped the dogs in the back yard until Anna came home to make Dexter's life complete.  He just adores her.

Back on the road, I'd planned a route that was half through countryside and half on the interstate, which turned out to be about right.

I passed through Farmersville, pop. 3,301, "Discover A Texas Treasure;" Greenville, pop. 26,600, established 1850; and Mount Vernon, pop. 2,662.

I saw only 3 Trump signs/flags all day, which seemed encouraging since I was definitely driving through areas that supported him.  Maybe we'll get through this election soon.

I saw cows, grazing land, and acres of that same grassy crop that I still don't know what it is; occasional groups of houses and businesses.  I noticed the stock tanks were all full, probably because of last night's storm.

Maybe 80% of the trees now have green on them, even up here in northeast Texas.  

There was a lot of traffic on the interstate, but otherwise it was a nice enough drive.  Just a long one.  We left Possum Kingdom before 7:00 and got into the Mt. Pleasant KOA at 3:30.  We'll be here for 6 more nights, to give me a chance to rest and regroup.

Texas - Day 141 - in Possum Kingdom

Possum Kingdom State Park, Caddo

Wednesday, 24 March 2021

Like Inks Lake, Possum Kingdom is a wildly popular area.  This one is within an hour or 2 of almost any part of the DFW area and has an attractive and boat-able lake, which may explain the popularity.

I was surprised to see that it's not a large park - only 115 campsites and a half dozen cabins, spread out along part of the lake.  Our campsite was on the water, for a change - I'd chosen it not for the water access, though, but because we could get to the boat launch parking area either by road or along the lake.  That meant I'd have an easier time walking the dogs even if the surrounding campsites were full.  Which they weren't.

In fact there were surprisingly few people here.  Likely because of it being the unpopular middle of the week, but also because it's so soon after Spring Break and most people probably already took their vacation time.

The campground is filled with lots of hills, lots of deer, lots of cedar and lots of wonderful cedar odor.  There were probably other critters as well, based on the dogs' behavior on our early morning walks (too dark for me to see but they still have use of their noses).

I was surprised to find that I had both phone and internet access, and I got a couple of blog posts written today.

The wind was really blowing, and the sun was intermittent, so it was chillier than I'd hoped.  Still it was nice to have the fresh air and lack of dog competition.

I enjoyed our time there.

Texas - Day 140 - Lost Maples to Possum Kingdom

Possum Kingdom State Park, Caddo

Tuesday, 23 March 2021

Instead of trying to walk around the campground before we hit the road, I drove us down to the picnic area so the dogs could walk in a space less encumbered by numerous big dogs.  Even there, I got questioned by a park ranger who couldn't figure out what either we or the RV were doing down there - even though she saw the camping tag the park had given me for the last 2 nights.

Anyway, they had informative signs there that I hadn't noticed earlier, one of which said what's here are Bigtooth Maples.  Wikipedia says they're native to North America and occur in scattered populations from Montana down into northern Mexico, including a nice chunk of them here in Lost Maples (and I guess the name comes from that "scattered populations" bit).

scarlet clematis

The signs also said a plant called scarlet clematis is found along the park's trails and, in fact, only grows on the Edwards Plateau in central Texas.  They had a picture that didn't come out very clear in my pre-dawn photo-taking, so I got this one off the internet.

today's route

I turned a different way on TX Hwy. 187 than I came in on, and here too the speed limit is posted as 70 mph.  But here too there are curves and s-curves and many more hills than flat road and I doubt if 70 is the speed most people drive.  Because Lost Maples park is in a canyon (Sabinal River canyon), I had a steep climb to leave it.

I had official confirmation of my belief I was in Hill Country when I turned on TX 39 and saw a sign saying I was on the Texas Hill Country Trail.

I saw thick stands of oaks, acres of mesquite and cedar/juniper and prickly pear, and acres of scrub brush.  I saw deer, cows, and constant hills.

Wikipedia says the Edwards Plateau is the crossroads of Central, South and West Texas.  The area is roughly bounded by San Angelo, Del Rio, San Antonio and Austin.  In other words, a pretty good-sized piece of territory.

Any hope I had of making good time foundered when I got stuck behind a road work crew and a monster piece of unrelated farm equipment.  The young people in that Subaru in front of me could hardly contain their impatience, and I could see they were seriously considering jumping that curb on the left and going around both the farm equipment and the work equipment and crew.  Granted we had to wait awhile, but at least the sun was shining.  I knew they were young because one of the passengers got out to look around the farm equipment and make frustrated gestures to the work crew.  And because they quite clearly hadn't lived long enough to develop a sense of patience in the face of immovable reality (one of the benefits of age).

In reality I think we were stuck only about 10 or 15 minutes, but it seemed longer because we couldn't see what was going on, thanks to that farm equipment.  As I finally passed the work crew, I saw that their machinery was striping newly paved road, and not just painting lines but sticking something rough and reflective to the lines to make them more visible to drivers, I guess.

We passed by my old friend Junction and then headed north.  I saw orchards and croplands and lots of sheep.

I came to the little town of London, which looked a lot bigger than the population of 180 in 2000 that I found online.  Actually their sign said:

     Welcome to London

     With a ♡ as big as Texas

We stopped there to take a break, because by then we'd been on the road 2 hours.  And I found this little slice of Americana.

London, TX, Post Office

close-up of that
historical marker

Back on the road, I continued to pass lots of sheep.  Before this trip, I can't say I even knew Texas did much sheep raising - I always thought of cattle.  Quite clearly I was wrong.

And all day I saw signs that warned Road May Flood.  It took me a long time, and a lot of Road May Flood signs, but I finally realized those are code for Low Water Crossing.  I don't know why they don't just say what they mean, though I suppose they have to be blunt with some drivers.

Here in Texas Hill Country I saw plenty of oaks and prickly pear; rocky land and grazing land; hills and winding roads; cows and deer.  One deer managed to jump the fence to run away from me - and that fence was head-high to him/her.  Six others ran across the road in front of me to get away from me.

Even the San Saba River had a low water crossing - sorry, Road May Flood.

I continued to see lots of sheep, a herd of horses with one very new colt.  I saw lots of cows grazing on grass in acres of cleared land.  Having passed so much scrub and prickly pear on these lands, I realized that clearing this land must be seriously hard work.  There's a lot of prickly pear.

I had a semi follow me (at a distance) on 3 different roads, all narrow and rural.  Every time I'd turn onto another rural road, I'd think he was going to turn off, but still he kept behind me.  When we got on US 190 he finally got close enough to me to pass, so I pulled over to let him do it, and he was nice enough to flash his lights thank you.

Back again at Brady, I stopped for gas and noticed a shop I'd missed the other day: Serenity Quilts of Many Colors.  Online they say they're a family-owned business and have operated for the last 5 years.  Wonder if the pandemic helped or hurt their business - I'd think quilt-making would be a perfect activity for folks stuck in quarantine at home.

At the Brady Cattleman's BBQ restaurant, I saw a sign saying "Pray For Rain."  Which is a pretty good summary of the town's situation.

Northern Harrier

Back on the road I saw a large bird carrying nesting material.  I thought it was a Northern Harrier (which I still think of as Marsh Hawk), because of the white at the base of its tail, and because it flies with its wings slightly canted up in a V.  But the bird book says they only come to Texas in the winter, meaning it shouldn't be carrying nesting material, so I looked for another candidate and ran into trouble.  Either the bird book said these others shouldn't be nesting here, or I couldn't tell how much visible white they had on the tops of their tails.

Ferruginous Hawk

Rough-legged Hawk

Swainson's Hawk

The Ferruginous Hawk looks right but should only be in this area irregularly in winter, not nesting in the spring.  The only pictures I could find of the Swainson's Hawk, which actually is known to nest in this area, show white only on the underside of the tail, and what I saw was on the top, so I don't know if this is it.  This photo of the Rough-legged Hawk shows the white on the tail in the right place, but they too are expected in this area only irregularly in winter.  Well, I tried.

I decided some of these drivers don't deserve their Texas license plates: they're so reluctant to pass, even in clearly marked passing zones, that I started to wonder if, instead of only pulling over, they expected me to come to a complete stop and hand them an invitation to pass.  It's just that, with all these safety features nowadays like rough strips marking the shoulder of the road, it's actually uncomfortable for me to pull over because of running the RV and its contents over these rumble strips, so I get frustrated with the timid souls that don't seem very Texan, especially not rural Texan.  Maybe they just moved here.

I was looking for the Geographic Center of Texas (I mentioned it when I went through Brady a few days ago) and thought I'd found it when I got to the Heart Of Texas Park.  It was a really nice roadside park, off the road with very pleasant covered picnic tables and a view, but I couldn't find any kind of marker, which I figured it ought to have.  Turns out I was just premature - I found it just down the road.

There's a lot of geographical information about Texas here.

Coming into Brownwood, I passed a HUGE Kohler plant and a HUGE 3M plant.  Brownwood has a population of 19,288, and I'm guessing these are the 2 main employers in town.  

Since I'd seen a sign saying I was now in Brown County, it occurred to me to wonder if Brownwood might be the county seat, and sure enough it is.

Brown County Courthouse 
in Brownwood

Because I hadn't planned ahead I had to do a lot of driving around to find the courthouse and could only get a photographic angle at this street corner.  I'd hoped for a red light, but this photo shows I had a green one and couldn't hold up traffic.  Anyway, this courthouse was built in 1917 in the Classical Revival style, replacing the earlier 1884 building that a fire burned almost everything of but the vault inside.

While I was driving around I found another amazing building and, after I found the courthouse, I went back to take a picture.

This is the 1903 Brown County Jail, now a museum.
Pretty fancy for a jail.

There's a town in Texas named Blanket.  I passed the turnoff for it.  It had 390 residents in 2010.

I passed through the small town of May, with 285 residents in 2000.  The entire town has been declared a Texas Historic Landmark, though I don't know why that means we don't have more current census information.

A little way - and a large pecan orchard/plantation - down the road, I came to Rising Star, a community of 835 as of 2010.  Apparently the town's name came from lengthy debate among the residents when they first applied for a post office, their first choice of "Star" having been rejected because of another one already in Texas.  This town is in ranching country, surrounded by cows and what look like hay fields.

I got 3 more light-flashing thank yous today, one of them from a semi when I flashed my lights to tell him he had room to move back in front of me safely, when we were on a busy highway and I was going only 65 mph.

I came to the town of Ranger, which had no highway sign so I had to figure it out for myself.  Based on population, it deserves a sign more than May, since it had 2,468 residents in 2010.  We stopped for a short walk in a little park downtown, where I saw a marker saying the park was Dedicated to Zeno Smith - Last of the Black Hat Rangers."  It made me wonder if the town had been named for the Texas Rangers, though I can't find anything online that says one way or another.  Probably not, since the town was originally one of the oil boomtowns of the 1920s.

Not far from there I passed a very small field, and behind the wire fence I saw a sign saying, "Forbidden Zone - Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted."  It seemed an odd place to protect, because it was a very small field.  And using the word "forbidden" immediately made me want to climb over the fence.  Such an odd word to use on private property.

Driving onward, now along the park road, I saw 2 deer together: to avoid me, one jumped the fence and the other crawled under it.  And it was barbed wire so it probably hurt.  With those long thin legs I wouldn't have thought a deer could crawl, but this one sure did.

And on to Possum Kingdom State Park, where we'll stay again for 2 nights.  Today covered the best part of 300 miles, mostly on farm-to-market roads.  I got to see a lot of Texas countryside, which is what I wanted, but I got pretty tired and need a rest.

Texas - Day 139 - in Lost Maples

Lost Maples State Natural Area, Vanderpool

Monday, 22 March 2021

Being a State Natural Area instead of a State Park means the Park Dept. is supposed to maintain and protect the natural area as its top priority.  To do that, the department can close recreational areas and restrict activities if they think those are infringing on the needs of the area.  In this case, the only facilities here are a campground with 30 sites, a large picnic area, and a number of trails through the arms of the canyon.  This is the Sabinal Canyon, remember?  And they have signs warning people they'll close trails if they need to.

picnic area

It's lucky I took this photo yesterday when I got in, because all today was overcast, with a fair amount of rain at times.  The pretty green tree in that photo is one of the maples, most of them still in various stages of leafing out.  I'm guessing this area is absolutely stunning in the fall, which is why people come here.

Not only was it rainy today, but there was also a lot of wind, which kept the temperature on the quite chilly side for most of the day.  The upside of that is that other campers weren't sitting outside with their dogs, making it easier for me to walk mine.

On our second walk of the day, Dext found an armadillo, which cut that walk short, and on the third walk we saw everybody else walking their dogs, which were all big.  So we really didn't get to move around much until mid-afternoon, when we walked the half-mile (each way) down to the picnic area.  We all really enjoyed that.

I didn't have an internet or a phone signal, so I used the computer's word processing program to draft several blog posts and got at least a start on the backlog I ran up due to driving every day with no breaks.

As far as I was concerned, the only real drawback to our campsite was that it was on a serious slope, and I don't have the means to level myself.  But there were other vacant sites that were perfectly flat - they were just buried in the middle of the campground and I'd never have been able to get the dogs out for a walk.  Mine was the end site, so we could slip out to the road and avoid the 2 big barking dogs next door.  

Texas - Day 138 - Kickapoo Cavern to Lost Maples

Lost Maples State Natural Area, Vanderpool

Sunday, 21 March 2021

An oddity of the Kickapoo Cavern State Park is that they offered no trash disposal.  They told us to pack out what we brought in.  There were no dumpsters or trash cans or any other receptacle for waste products (other than the bathroom).

today's route

After leaving the park, I was driving along a farm-to-market road when I saw a group of 6 deer beside the road, including 1 stag and 2 fawns.  All these deer absolutely panicked as I came near - as I've noticed other deer doing when I pass them on the highway - but these couldn't figure out anywhere to go.  The fence that bounded the property along the road was built - probably deliberately - too high for them to jump and strong enough to remain standing when they tried to jump anyway and bounced off the fence instead.  

I was afraid to try to pass them, because of previous incidents of deer running across the road right in front of me, and this vehicle doesn't brake on a dime, so we kept up this bizarre chase for more than a mile.  Finally I realized they'd run themselves to death if I didn't pass, because they had nowhere else to go and were clearly not getting over their panic.  And just as I was pulling over into the oncoming lane to pass them, someone came up from behind me and tried to pass me on the right, in my own lane.  So I moved back over a bit, and by then I guess the other driver had seen the deer because he quit trying to get around me - but I clearly had to do something.  So I took a chance and speeded up enough to pass the deer just as someone came by in the opposite direction.  And then the guy behind me passed, probably disgusted with someone who doesn't know how to drive around deer.

I was glad to be past the deer myself and assume they figured out a way to get to safety before they next car came along.  But I am still surprised at their reaction.  They were running at close to 30 mph for a long way.  Adrenaline can do wonders, which I suppose is what fueled the whole thing.

I passed more of those brown-headed sheep.

At Brackettville I picked up TX Hwy. 131, heading south to Eagle Pass.  An oddity of that highway is that there's a prison at each end.

I saw 9 Caracaras today, an all-time high for me; often they were in pairs.

Near Eagle Pass I saw another one of those signs saying, "Warning - Tick Eradication Quarantine Line."

It took me an hour and a half to get from the campground to the county courthouse in Eagle Pass, and I'm really glad I made the effort.  The highway department didn't put up a sign, but I can tell you that with 26,255 residents in 2010, and being a county seat, it deserves a sign.   

This is the current courthouse:

Maverick County Courthouse
in Eagle Pass

And just around the corner lies the previous courthouse:

This earlier one was built in 1885 and every website I can find sings its praises.  I can't find anybody who wants to tell me when the new one was built; in fact, only one of them even mentions that there is a new one, which was in existence when they wrote that mention in 2006.  But aesthetically, the old one is superior even though the new one escaped mediocrity.  You can see a historical marker on the old one and here's a closer view.

not only history of the courthouse and the county but also early scandal

Next door to the old courthouse is the public library, which has its own history.

There were other historical markers in this area which were unfortunately on granite.  I had a really hard time reading them when I stood in front of them, and my photos just can't pick out the letters from the grain in the granite.  But I did get this metal one about the county and El Camino Real.

After the dogs and I walked around the block here, we got back on the road where, once more, Google's directions were for the birds.  It took me some extra time to figure out where I'd ended up and how to get where I wanted to go.  In the process I noticed the flashing lights of 2 Border Patrol cars at a house, possibly denoting trauma for some family.

Eagle Pass is a border crossing, and as I got back on the road I saw a sign saying "Welcome to Texas - Drive Friendly, The Texas Way."  But since the message was only in English, I'm not sure how welcomed a visitor from across the border would feel.  

I passed the Consulado de México, and that sign was only in Spanish.  In fact, I saw several billboards that were only in Spanish and several others that were bilingual.  Eagle Pass seems more bilingual than the other border towns I've visited.

All traffic was stopped at a Border Patrol Inspection Station.  They had a sign saying, "K9 on Duty - Restrain Your Pets," and they had it in both languages, sensibly.  I noticed that their machines took a photo not only of the driver, but also a side view of the vehicle and a rear view that included the license plate, and I can't help but wonder what they do with all that information.  

When it came my turn with the agent, he asked me, "Are you a US citizen?"  That's the only question I've been asked at any of these stops I've been through.  And they always accept my answer without question.  And it's not my accent they're going by, as several times I've just nodded.  I could be Canadian - and I understand there are a surprising number of them here in the US illegally, having overstayed their visas.  I could be European.  I could be hiding a half dozen foreigners in the back of the RV - they don't look at anything but Dexter sitting alertly in the passenger seat.  Seems odd to me.

I drove through miles and miles of land that isn't being used for anything that I could see.  No cows or crops or even oil wells.  Just uncleared and unplowed miles of scrub brush.  In a way, that's kind of reassuring - that there's still space in this country where nothing's happening.

I got 2 light-flashing thank yous today.

I turned north at a town called La Pryor, and that name perplexes me.  Wikipedia says it was named for the Mr. Pryor who owned the land, but I don't know why they stuck that article "la" in front of it.  The highway sign didn't include the population, which Wiki says was 1,643 in 2010.  And the only other thing I can say about it is that 41% of its residents live below the poverty line.  But it seems to be supporting the agricultural area surrounding it, and nobody goes into farming to get rich.

Both before and after I came to La Pryor, I saw large fields full of some green, grassy crop.  It didn't look like turf grass, but I also couldn't identify it with any vegetable I know.  Whatever it was, they were growing a lot of it down there.

I crossed the Nueces River and noticed it too had a very low water level.  And in what may be a related notice, I saw a sign saying, "Driving in Riverbeds Prohibited by State Law."  That's a law I didn't know about, though it makes sense for a lot of reasons.

With relief I came to a section of the road that had been very recently repaved.  They'd used a new kind of surface to alert drivers to the centerline and shoulder line - it was much rougher than the usual markers and highly reflective.

I came to Uvalde, pop. 15,751, established in 1855, and a county seat.

Uvalde County Courthouse
in Uvalde

The highway department sign didn't tell me the population, and when I looked it up I also learned that Uvalde is considered one of the best soaring locations in the US.  It has twice hosted the World Gliding Championships.  Who knew?

What I did learn myself is that it looks like a nice town with a very nice municipal park and this lovely old opera house on the square.

see details below

the finial on the tower

Uvalde is a Tree City USA.  And I hadn't realized that, geographically, it's considered to be the southern edge of the Texas Hill Country, or the northern edge of South Texas, depending on your point of view.

From Uvalde I drove another 42 miles toward Hondo, passing a lot more of that grassy crop, plus other fields of plants that were just starting to show above ground.

I crossed the Dry Frio River (dry), and then the Frio River (also dry).

I went through the town of Knippa (with 689 residents), where the high school teams are known as the Rockcrushers.  As far as I can tell, there's a quarry nearby owned by Vulcan Materials Co., which bills itself as the "nation's largest producer of construction aggregates," and I'm guessing it's the town's primary employer.

I started seeing bluebonnets along the road.  I was afraid I'd be leaving Texas before they really came out, so I'm glad I've gotten to see at least a few.

Hondo is another town that didn't get a sign but it too is a county seat and has 8,803 residents.  Seriously, are these signs being stolen?  If not, what criteria does the highway department use?  At any rate, Hondo itself put up a sign: "Welcome - This is God's country - Please don't drive through it like hell."

Medina County Courthouse
in Hondo

Those flags are at half-staff, by the way, for the victims of the insane shootings at those massage parlors in Georgia.

Here's the historical marker that gives information about the courthouse.

I thought the back of the building was as attractive as the front, and this photo shows more building details.

On the edge of that photo you can see part of the old jail, so here's the front and a marker explaining its history.

Old Medina County Jail

On one side of the courthouse square, I noticed a nice little picnic area that I'm sure is very popular with the courthouse staff.  It's odd because as soon as I saw it, I thought something like this would make a good Eagle Scout project.  And it turns out a plaque said that's exactly what this was.

And finally, back around to the front of the building, I was curious about the plaque I saw near a tree, and was glad I bothered to go look.

the Stephen F. Austin
Memorial Oak

I stopped at the local HEB and wished I hadn't.  I know HEB is beloved by everybody else in Texas, but those stores always irritate me because they carry only their own brands, or shove the national brands into a tiny corner of one shelf.  I got the bare minimum and got out as quickly as I could.

Up until this point I hadn't seen any Trump signs/flags today, but when I turned down a farm-to-market road on my way to Utopia, I saw 5 in one neighborhood, including one that accompanied a Confederate Battle Flag.

But I also saw a Scissortail, and a lot of cows and more planted fields.  The countryside held mostly oaks, with still a lot of mesquite and cactus.

I saw some more of those deer-like critters, white and brown with long, thin, curved-back antlers.

I saw a line of sizeable hills to the west, but they're not shown on the AAA map, and though Google maps shows them, it doesn't identify them.

I came to Utopia - not incorporated but with 227 residents in 2010.  They have their own sign: "Welcome to Utopia - A Paradise - Let's Keep It Nice."  The town's information page says it's located in the Sabinal Canyon, and there's a Sabinal Canyon Museum in town, but that's all the information I can find about this canyon.

But more research tells me that Lost Maples State Natural Area, where I'm heading, is also in this canyon, so it must be a long one.  And apparently not too deep in places, because in the Utopia area I wasn't seeing canyon walls.

The road ran along the Sabinal River, and I crossed it 7 times.  All along the way I saw signs saying "Save Our Sabinal," sponsored by the Bandera Canyonlands Alliance.  Apparently area residents have become concerned that a Young Life facility nearby is discharging untreated wastewater into the Sabinal (not very Christian of them).  If this is true, it's no wonder the neighbors are concerned.  They've got a petition online they're asking people to sign, hoping to pressure the national Young Life office in Colorado to rethink their corporate responsibilities.

The Sabinal, by the way, looked like it had plenty of water, unlike most of the others I've been seeing.

I passed 2 Miatas, both with their tops down, traveling together.  This road that's full of s-curves and warnings to slow down on curves would be perfect for that car.  I still haven't quite gotten over having to sell mine, though that was nearly 20 years ago.  But true love lasts forever.

In the nearly non-existent town of Vanderpool, population 22 in 1990, I passed the Lone Star Motorcycle Museum.  It offers a collection that dates back to 1910, they say.  But they especially tout their location "in the heart of the Texas Hill Country with beautiful motorcycling roads all around."

And then on to Lost Maples, where I'll be staying 2 nights, for a change.  After driving more than 240 miles today, and driving every day for 9 days in a row, I'm pretty tired and need the break.

Texas - Day 137 - South Llano River, via a flat tire, to Kickapoo Cavern

Kickapoo Cavern State Park, Brackettville

Saturday, 20 March 2021

We had a little trouble getting in our early morning walks - I'm sure there was an armadillo nearby - but we eventually got some walking in.

This campground bills itself as a "dark sky park" and asks everybody to "keep outdoor lights to a minimum."  Apparently not everyone bothered to read the sign, and even one of the camp hosts had more lights out than I thought they should.  But in general, it was a nice dark area and I could see plenty of stars.

As we started to drive out of the campground, I heard a noise that made me think I had something wrong with a tire, but the wheel wasn't pulling particularly and they were all fairly new tires.  I had to drive through the entire campground to find a place to stop and take a look (it's a narrow one-lane road and I wasn't the only one moving around).  Sure enough, my front right tire was looking a lot lower than I thought it should.  It wasn't even 7:30 in the morning, on a Saturday, and I knew I didn't have a phone signal even if I could have figured out how to get hold of anybody helpful.  So back down those 4 miles to town I went.

It took me 40 minutes to go that distance, because I was traveling as slowly as I could, with my hazard lights blinking to warn other motorists I wasn't going their speed.  I pulled into the first gas station I found, both because I needed gas and because I wanted directions to a tire place.  I'd no sooner pulled in than another motorist made concerned motions toward my tire and I explained what I was doing.  He and his buddy not only directed me to the only tire shop that they thought might be open today, but also filled up my tire with air they were carrying on their truck.  Now how much luck is that!

And I ended up not getting gas because the gas station owner warned me, when I went in to pay cash in advance, that the regular was coming out so slowly it was one ... penny's ... worth ... at ... a ... time, which was real nice of him to say.  He too worried about my tire and directed me to the tire shop and to another gas station.  Nice town, Junction.

And the guys at the tire place were nice too.  I got there right after they'd opened so they could take me right away.  The one working on my tire found a 1" nail in the tire which, he said, I might have gotten just yesterday afternoon.  My guess is I picked it up in the church parking lot where I went to call my relatives.  He warned me I may have done some real damage by driving it so many miles when it was flat and told me to keep an eye on it to be sure it was holding air.  Quel nuisance.

today's route

I spent 42 miles (per Google) on US 377, and the posted 70 mph speed limit was utterly irrelevant: the road was one long series of curves and s-curves up and down hills with warning signs suggesting speeds on the curves of 20 mph, 25 mph, 30 mph, 35 mph, and (highest of all) 40 mph.  There were also a lot of dips in the road - marked as "Dip" - and being seriously low enough that you wouldn't want to take them too fast.  At each one there was a sign saying, "Caution - Road May Flood."  That was in addition to the signs here and there saying, "Caution - Road May Flood Next 26 Miles" - the number of miles would vary but the message was the same.  I don't know why they even bothered posting the 70 mph sign.  I managed to make the trip in an hour, but it felt a whole lot longer to me than an hour.

At Rocksprings (yes, it's all one word), pop. 1,182, I saw a sign saying, "Welcome to Angora Country."  To support that claim, they have a statue on the courthouse square:

at the base of the statue

There was also this evidence:

office of The Texas Mohair Weekly

And finally, this historical marker in front of the courthouse:

The county claims to be "the angora goat capital of the world."

This is the courthouse itself, by the way.

Edwards County Courthouse
in Rocksprings

As that historical marker (above) explains, this courthouse was built in 1897 and was sturdy enough to make it through a 1927 tornado that killed 72 people.  Serious tornado.

I'm including this historical marker that was also on the courthouse square, because it details the development of the town's telephone service, beginning as far back as 1898.  I didn't know there were phones that far back, let alone phones in a remote area like this.

Speaking of the 1927 tornado, I saw this historical marker on the building we'd parked in front of.  What I found interesting was the bit about the coffins.

As you might be able to tell, this is a small community that's trying to support itself in an agricultural environment.  I may not have seen it at its best, because it was only 10:30 on a Saturday morning, but I didn't see much life in the town.

Back on the road, I passed a sign for the town of Carta Valley which, as far as I could tell, consists of a cemetery and a boarded-up house.

This area isn't far from a place called Devil's Sinkhole, which is now a State Natural Area as well as a National Natural Landmark.  It's a shaft that drops 140' down into a cavern and is home to one of Texas's largest populations of Mexican free-tailed bats.  The state parks dept. has made entry to the area limited to tour reservations only.  The headquarters for this area is on the town square back in Rocksprings.

I was driving southwest back to the border and saw a lot of rocky ground with cedar/juniper and mesquite - the oaks and pecans were left behind us.

I noticed the Border Patrol stopping all northbound traffic.

Today I saw only 2 Trump signs/flags.  And I got 3 light-flashing thank yous.

I passed several access points to the Amistad Reservoir, a shared resource with Mexico.  It's created from the Rio Grande and I noticed the water level was very low, but I don't know if it's low from the drought or low from overuse of the Rio Grande up river.

We came to Del Rio, pop. 35,954.  Now that I was back in the Valley, I saw that most people were still wearing masks, indoors and out, a sign of strong common sense and self-preservation - both qualities I value.  Del Rio is also a county seat.

Val Verde County Courthouse
in Del Rio

And this historical marker describes the town's development as well as the building of the courthouse in 1887.

I also found this historical marker about the Civil War that seemed interesting, though you might find it hard to read.  Those that are carved in granite cause me problems to replicate - when I bring up the contrast so the words can be read, it also brings up the grain in the granite which makes it harder to read.  Anyway, here it is.

While the dogs and I were walking around the square, I suddenly noticed this beautiful building a block away.

Google claims that it's the Methodist Day School, and that the Methodist church itself is in a nondescript building nearby.  Uh-huh.  I used the street view to look for myself and found that, as expected, their labels were reversed.  This building is the First United Methodist Church and it was built in 1931.  Really stunning in person.

By this time I was really tired and much later than I'd planned to be, thanks to that flat tire.  Instead of being on the road by 7:30, I didn't actually get moving until 9:00 - a real difference when I'm traveling as many miles as I have to in this part of the state.  So although I'd planned to go from Del Rio on to Eagle Pass today, I changed my mind.  It would still take me well over an hour to get to Brackettville, and tonight's campground was another half-hour beyond that, so I decided to wait until tomorrow and see how I feel.  If I could, I wanted to go to Eagle Pass, but I'd skip it if it looked like too much.

On US 90, that I took out of Del Rio, I was crossing under the airport landing pattern.  I passed a sign saying: "Watch for Low-flying Aircraft," which seemed a little ominous to me.  I mean, just how low were they planning to fly?  But I made it through okay.

The gasoline prices in this part of the state really fluctuate.  In Junction I paid $2.85/gallon, but in Del Rio the price was $2.58.  When you buy as many gallons as I do, it can make a difference.

There was a strong crosswind when I started heading east, so I was pretty pooped by the time I got to Brackettville, pop. 1,740, and the county seat.

Kinney County Courthouse
in Brackettville

This courthouse was built in 1909 in the Beaux Arts style.  This photo looks odd because the courthouse is situated crosswise on this plot of land.  You can see that the sidewalk from the front door leads straight to the corner of that building which, granted, is used for municipal offices, but the placement of that municipal building where it is has robbed the courthouse of the grandeur it deserves.  Instead it's kind of crowded into its little space.  And it's not as if this were the only plot of land around here - there seemed to be a lot of flat vacant land in the vicinity.  Well, I'm sure they had their reasons.

Although the road from Brackettville to tonight's campground was 21 miles long, it took me the best part of an hour to get there because it was a narrow, hilly, winding road most of the way.  Plus I got held up for a bit at a Border Patrol checkpoint (there were several vehicles ahead of me).  I really had a hard time finishing the drive.

Kickapoo Cavern State Park offers several attractions.  The cavern itself may have been used a very long time ago by Native Americans using this area so it has some artifacts as well as the usual cave attractions.  Nearby is the Stuart Bat Cave that has its own population of Mexican free-tailed bats, and until the late 1950s their guano was mined for use in fertilizer and explosives (which is an odd combination).  There are also 3 endangered species that live in this area: Tobusch fishhook cactus, and 2 birds - the Black-capped Vireo and the Golden-cheeked Warbler.

The campground itself was tiny - only 15 camping spaces, and at least a third of them were empty when we were there.  Since this was a Saturday, I assume that this is a little-known and out-of-the-way place for most tourists.  It worked out okay for us, despite the number of groups that brought large dogs.  The campground was dark and we were comfortable.  I didn't expect and didn't get an internet signal or a phone signal.  I didn't even bother trying TV reception.  It's just quiet here.