Carlsbad, NM
Here I sit in this half a horse town, drinking Shiner Bock and watching the final game at Yankee Stadium shindig thinking wistfully of Texas.
All New Mexico has done so far is slow me down. I am completely in love with Texas. Given the amount of no firearms signs at National Parks, banks, schools and airports you have to figure “they” assume you’re packing. Lone Star Beer has billboards claiming that drinking any other beer makes you a traitor to the Texian nation. I went nearly an entire day on the road never seeing more people that I could count on one hand. The speed limit on two-lane back country roads is 75. On the Interstate it’s 80.
Man, you can cover some ground doing 80 miles an hour.
And there’s a hell of a lot of ground to cover. Miles and miles of trackless desolation amidst which are moments of such beauty it takes your breath away. I think I would like to buy a house in Fort Davis, TX where I could go to sit on the porch, stare at the breathtakingly blue sky, look out at the miraculous colors, taste the arid breeze and go completely zen in the surroundings.
Maybe when I really retire.