The challenge is to describe a 3500-mile journey of 25 days and not sound boring. After packing the last few items in my RV, though not particularly organized, I locked myself out of the home I’ve occupied for the past 4 months and headed out. The first challenge was to defy my GPS which wanted to go down I-35 instead of up 183 to MOPAC. Then to defy it again as it insisted on trying to take me directly south to I-10 rather than my chosen route out 290 through Johnson City. A check of the map will show you why. Of course since I left at 4:30 there was nothing to see but traffic lights and gas stations along the road. One would prefer not to see deer at that hour.
Two hundred and thirty miles later I stopped in Ozona for some rather over-priced $3.99 gas. The only thing worse would have been running out 100 miles from anywhere. In downtown Ozona, Population 3225 , I stopped at Sonic for a Tex-Mex Breakfast Burrito which I came to regret as I ‘enjoyed’ it for the next few hours. In West Texas I-10 is rated at 80 mph but whatever speed you drive there is little to miss besides steely gray stratified clouds they wish yielded some rain and rolling hills that become rocky mesas as one ascends to nearly 5000 ft above sea level. Fort Davis is another 220 miles from Ozona after taking a left turn along a highway that follows valleys cut by the local arroyos where the only green one sees is that of early budding trees along the ravines. The one thing one doesn’t want to see at 70 to 80 MPH is a Texas Long Horn. Much of West Texas is open range grazing land.
Information on the Prude Ranch being difficult to find I decided to camp south of town. MacMillan in the HIghlands may have come out of receivership but it still hasn’t entered the 20th Century--the functionary I met demanded cash for my two-day stay. At least the Wi-Fi and Hydro were contemporary. I’d come here to see the stars at the MacDonald Observatory up in the mountains North-West of Town. Alas the weatherman had other ideas and socked the sky in with clouds. The astronomers may have the co-operation of the County in preventing extraneous light but they have no control over weather. I’d walked or biked every street in town and toured the National Park previously so I relaxed in camp.
Two hundred and thirty miles later I stopped in Ozona for some rather over-priced $3.99 gas. The only thing worse would have been running out 100 miles from anywhere. In downtown Ozona, Population 3225 , I stopped at Sonic for a Tex-Mex Breakfast Burrito which I came to regret as I ‘enjoyed’ it for the next few hours. In West Texas I-10 is rated at 80 mph but whatever speed you drive there is little to miss besides steely gray stratified clouds they wish yielded some rain and rolling hills that become rocky mesas as one ascends to nearly 5000 ft above sea level. Fort Davis is another 220 miles from Ozona after taking a left turn along a highway that follows valleys cut by the local arroyos where the only green one sees is that of early budding trees along the ravines. The one thing one doesn’t want to see at 70 to 80 MPH is a Texas Long Horn. Much of West Texas is open range grazing land.
Information on the Prude Ranch being difficult to find I decided to camp south of town. MacMillan in the HIghlands may have come out of receivership but it still hasn’t entered the 20th Century--the functionary I met demanded cash for my two-day stay. At least the Wi-Fi and Hydro were contemporary. I’d come here to see the stars at the MacDonald Observatory up in the mountains North-West of Town. Alas the weatherman had other ideas and socked the sky in with clouds. The astronomers may have the co-operation of the County in preventing extraneous light but they have no control over weather. I’d walked or biked every street in town and toured the National Park previously so I relaxed in camp.
El Paso, 200 miles west, is a long narrow stretch north of the Mexican border and south of a mountain range to the North. In many ways it is a frontier town and the Roadrunner RV Park is not in the best part. Didn’t find anyone to sign me in until the next morning. The Albertsons I shopped at before parking was the worst dump I’ve ever shopped at. Obviously slated for closure everything I looked at was days or weeks past its best before date and the selection was pitiful. When I did find someone in the office discovered their on site garage did not have the supplies to fix my sewage hose. Took another rest day before heading out. As the metal plaque beside the office reads:
On this site in 1897
Nothing happened
Set out early Tuesday morning March 25th for Albuquerque, New Mexico 300 miles distant. The trip North West along I-25 involves a 2000 ft gain in elevation. Getting out of El Paso in the dark is no mean feat as I-10 wanders hither and yon. Just into New Mexico one passes through the Border Control Shed. They didn’t seem interested in this canuck. I started out early to beat the cross-winds and succeeded mainly. The American RV Park in Albuquerque is a class act owned by a chain. Unfortunately the new gal at the desk placed me at the far end of the park rather than opposite the washroom for no good reason I could see. No pop corn either as the machine is bust. But they still offer complimentary breakfast with waffles Wednesday Morning. Hmm Good. Some wicked cloud formations, a few spatterings of rain and a minor twister or two but the landscape is still dangerously drought ridden. I got some cooking done.
Drove into town to shop at Smiths and get gas early Thursday Morning and was not impressed with the rowdy Latinos in the parking lot of the mall. At 6:45 decided I wasn’t waiting around for breakfast and began driving West on I-40 which follows old Route 66. Shook my head at the Left-Lane Hog driving a U-haul truck and trailer with no car in sight for 100 miles in front or behind him. Stopped east of Gallop for breakfast just after crossing the continental divide and staring at the snow on either side of the highway. At this point the way turned north on 491 at first a 4 lane and then a two-lane highway. The route passes through Cortez where I stayed when I visited Mesa Verde. I dodged snow and hale most of the day. Stopped in Monticello for gas and then took Utah 191 North 50 miles to Moab. Stopped at the info centre there. A month later than my last visit here there was actually someone in the office when I arrived at my campground. Having driven all day I elected to walk down to find a campsite. The gal at the desk thought it a large 300-site park and recommended driving, she obviously hasn’t seen the 5000 sites at Whistlers Park in Jasper.
Red slickrock looms high across the road from the campground. Opted to stay over an entire day and see Canyonlands and since there was nothing playing in town went to bed early.
End of Week One.
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