Our time in Texas has come to a close. Two months we’ve been here and I feel like so much has happened. We’ve made new friends, learned to appreciate nature and wildlife, and I’ve taken up painting as well as photography.
The day we left Falcon Lake State Park it was still unseasonably cold. Poor Ric’s fingers were almost frost-bitten from unhooking the rig and attaching the truck for tow. We were anxious to head towards warmth. The morning clouds were thick and hung low in the sky as we pulled out, but once on the road the sky started to lift and with it our spirits.
Heading west we noticed that the terrain was changing. Gone were the low trees of the Rio Grande Valley, and the palms. The land wore a chalky yellow hue, and seemed to stretch on forever.
“Unforgiving territory,” Ric stated at one point.
The checkpoints and frequent border patrols we encountered along the road made us think of the people who risked their lives trying to cross this terrain. Hard to fathom.
We stopped in Del Rio for a night, then got back on the road the next morning. We passed the Amistad National Recreation Area at Del Rio and noted that this might be a good place to return to at another time.
Following highway 90, we made the trek across miles and miles of wasteland to Port Stockton. We could tell by the maps that the area was fairly desolate. Texas has had drought conditions and it’s so apparent from the many dry canyons we passed. Derelict buildings dotted the landscape making the trip feel as if we were on a ghost tour.
At one point, we stopped for gas, only to find that the first place didn’t take debit, and our credit card wasn’t working. Further down the road, we found a full service station, but the truck lanes were closed, so Ric was forced to pull all 60 feet of us through the car pump. That was a little hairy. I caught this photo of a dilapidated motor home behind the station and hoped it wasn’t an omen of what is to come. (Note to selves: always make sure you have gas when passing through desert-like areas.)
In Port Stockton we stayed at the Hilltop RV Park, which true to its name, overlooked the road ahead. Ric and I took our cameras out at sunset and captured a few pictures. Approaching the nearby open field, I caught a glimpse of rabbits hopping about in the low brush and heard the rattle of snake warning me to keep my distance. I did.
This rabbit, caught in the light of the sunset spoke to me of the sentiment I was feeling – torn between the glow of what was passing and the lure of what’s ahead.
Good bye Texas. Sure enjoyed you’ll. Pretty sure, we’ll be back.