Pecos, TX

Pecos Bill. The wildest cowboy of them all. He rode a horse called Widowmaker, and sometimes a cougar, and finally a tornado. Now there was a rider, yesiree, and he used a rattlesnake for a lariat, and generally was tougher than anyone or anything. He had a lady friend named Slu Foot Sue (did she have a club foot ??), who on her wedding day decided to ride the great horse Widowmaker. He bucked her off so high she banged her head on the moon, what a ride! and she bounced on her bustle like a bungee jumper until Bill lassoed her.

Alas, not a tale invented by the cowboys around the fire on the long drive north from Texas, but fakelore, written by one Edward O'Reilly in 1916 for The Century Magazine, pretending to be stories he had collected. Still it’s nice to imagine those incredibly tough men yarning away an evening under the stars while the longhorns rested.

I drove northwest from Fort Stockton across a great flat expanse of dirt and rocks and the short wiry shrubs that some how survive out here. The only things to see were the dinosaur oil pumps, some bobbing away, and their attending tank farms and pipelines. I saw one corral, but not a creature of any kind until I passed one big dairy farm out in the middle of all this, with the big irrigating sweeps, and piles of hay and the cows lying down to get out of the wind. Nothing for 60 miles. Not a cloud in the blue, blue sky, and off to the west, the Franklin Mountains. They aren’t all that big and they are very far away, but still my heart gave a leap of joy to see them. Mountains!

As I drove into the wind, I wondered how they could have moved their cattle across this, nothing to eat, nothing to drink. Hot, dusty and pestered by flies and the ceaseless wind. I guess the great cattle drives only lasted a few decades, but they brought up from Mexico the culture of horsemanship, rope tricks and the secrets of moving wild cattle. And a mystique, a uniquely American culture that still permeates the west in dress, logos, designs on all sorts of things. A love affair with the horse and the wide open spaces. And my favorite part of the romance, no body cares about your lineage, your money or your education or your class. Probably that really isn’t true, but it is in my fantasy.

The wind is still pretty strong, and although it will be in the 50-60 range during the day it sure feels cold. Tonight it’s going down to 27, so I’m all wrapped up again.

I’m at another Escapees Park, a jolly club of folks who enjoy this lifestyle and do what they can to make it easier and more fun for folks who want to do it too. The park itself is only marginally nicer than the parking lot in Fort Stockton, but there is a laundry which I will need.

I went over to the Ice Cream Social, just to see who’s here and find some company. We sat and ate our ice cream and traded stories of how we came to hit the road. One couple lost their house to Katrina and never looked back, another lady is soloing in a huge motor home, widowed after 53 years. It was decided that as cold as it is, that global warming is unlikely, and one lady said she heard that Jesse Ventura ( ex pro wrestler, ex governor of Minnesota) has studies to prove it isn’t real and that the whole thing is a hoax for Al Gore to make money from. She added that there is a satellite in Alaska that will control our minds. (owned by Sarah Palin?). I had to look away and bite my tongue. I soon excused myself, but I did get some nice ice cream.

I had thought to go up north of Carlsbad NM, visit the caverns, and look around, but it will snow or ice up there tomorrow, so I’m staying here and will just drive up to the caverns.