Not so deep in the heart of Texas

Friday 30 June 2006
Welcome to Texas


We never thought we’d be so happy to find ourselves in Texas, and, in all honesty, the Texas Panhandle in particular is not ‘remarkable’ in any meaningful way. It’s flat. There are not many trees. The ground is rather dusty and even tumbleweeds are scarce. Not many people.

Along Route 66 in Texas

Yet another Yard Full of Junk - this is a distinctly middle American phenomenon - we noticed hardly any Yards Full of Junk while driving up the West Coast, even in the remotest sections. I mean, really, a motorboat? On the lawn? In the dusty Texas Panhandle?
Our Message to America: Taking out the trash does not mean taking it merely out of the house structure.

Yup. Now imagine 6 hours of this. AFTER Oklahoma.

Texas is Boring - but still better than Oklahoma. At least it has a personality. Beth even could see herself jumping on the Texas bandwagon if forced to live here - maybe embracing the Texas braggodoccio is the only way to survive...
The town of Britten, TX does not seem concerned with maintaining an erect water tower.
Perhaps they are wise enough to know that scarce resources are deployed in a far more ecclesiastically sound manner by maintaining the largest cross in the Northern and or Western hemisphere (accounts vary).

You can only see Beth's sillouhette due to the overpowering nature of the cross's holy glow.

We cruised into Amarillo and headed for The Big Texan restaurant, which offers a free 72 ounce steak, if consumed, in its entirety, within an hour. As Yankees lacking Texan sized appetites, we opted for a petit filet (Kelly) and a honkin’ Frito Pie (Beth). We had been noticing Frito Pies on the menus of many inauspicious food establishments since Missouri. As it turns out, the delicacy consists of a base layer of Frito corn chips topped with chili and cheese. Yum.

Haute cuisine - Texas style.

The Big Texan also offered a range of entertainment options including wandering cowboy serenades, a (mock) shooting range, an extremely large rocking chair, stuffed bear, many video games, and large gift emporium (see Day of Beth). Unfortunately, we could not find a mechanical bull.

As the Frito Pie gurgled in our stomachs, we headed out of town, hoping to make tracks for New Mexico. Until Kelly remembered that Cadillac Ranch was just outside of town and, as darkness had fallen, insisted that we make camp in Amarillo in order to see it first thing in the morning. We found a campground just down the street and set up our tent underneath four trees teeming with bats. After some comments about droppings, Kelly learned that bat poo is called “guano”. This is the first of a lot of information we would obtain about guano. Apparently, this is a highly sought after commodity, often harvested for use in fertilizer. This night, our trusty tent was christened “Sir Guano Chimichanga”. Long may he reign.

Passing through the town of Bushland, TX. Frankly, isn't it all Bush Land there?

Saturday 1 July 2006
Amarillo, TX

Rising in the morning to yet another cacophony of strange birds, as well as a tumbleweed blowing past Sir Guano’s door, we made a bee-line for Cadillac Ranch. This experience did not disappoint – in the morning light, the Ranch virtually glowed on the horizon. Ten old Caddies, planted in the Texas dirt. Decades of graffiti bringing the aesthetic of a highway underpass in the Bronx to the barren Panhandle landscape.

Thar, she rises on the horizon...
Beth is drawn in to her power...

Cadillac Plants

Beth makes our Ferret print...

Have I been here before?

We made our marks and then made our way onward to New Mexico, driving southwest through sparse and stark towns with more cattle than people – passing cattle yards with thousands of heads of cattle, all waiting to be processed. We decided on burgers for lunch.

Mmmm... lunch...

The trip immediately brightened upon crossing the New Mexico border. I don’t know if this is scientifically true, but I swear the skies were bluer and the dirt a bright burnt red-orange – it was really beautiful.

Ahh... New Mexico...

We made for Portales, where we passed a real cowboy riding a horse through town and settled in at the Wagon Wheel café for a good burger and to take advantage of free wi-fi. Where we posted our last update, ticking off our waitress as we lingered for about two hours. Thank you, Wagon Wheel! Thus sated, we hopped back in the Snaab and aimed at Roswell.

Ride 'em Cowboy!