March 10, 2008
Jim and Sharon advised us as we planned our departure on Monday morning, either leave early (7 a.m.) or leave late (after 9). San Antonio, with all of its history and rich culture, is still a city of 1.1 million people, and most still have to get to work or school. Thus, rush hour is something that one must plan around. We had significant miles to cover today. We chose early. We had three things working against us. One, daylight savings time was one day old. The 7 a.m. was very dark. Two, San Antonio is going through a drought. However, we brought rain. It was dark and rainy. And three, there was construction everywhere.
As Barb and I left the comfy Moa neighborhood where we scooted under magnificent and huge live oak trees we exited a quiet street to city streets. Not far down the road we approached the entry to I-410. The area was dominated by construction and as we peered through the rain and the dark, “It looks like the right lane turns, let’s take the left.” Bad choice. The left lane, our choice, was on coming traffic. A single car appeared in front of us and I was able to pull aside to let it through. Barb hopped out of the RV, wrestled three garbage can sized orange dividers to the side, flagged down oncoming traffic, and allowed me to turn into the correct lane. I couldn’t leave her on such a gallant stroke of fortitude. I stopped, she jumped into the rig, and we ventured on.
Traffic and weather were still a challenge for the next few hours. But by 11 a.m. the clou
ds parted and the southwest desert dominated the rest of the day.
We traveled on for 535 miles. As I peered out the window, I remembered the words of that great Mac Davis song, “Texas in My Rear View Mirror” In it he sings of the emptiness of this arid region, but it was home, because it was family. But one of his refrains describes this area well, “West Texas looks best in my rear view mirror,” 535 miles. This area is desolate. Why is it so difficult to find a place to put toxic waste? Put it here.
The interstate was smooth and Barb even drove for 2 hours, her first experience since Montana. As we drove through El Paso, I wished we could stop and experience the city. It is rich in history and the architecture so unique. The UTEP stadium, the Sun Bowl venue, loomed by o
ur route. But we drove on. Tonight we sit in a camp overlooking Las Cruces, New Mexico. Now we should be able to meet our Tucson contacts easily.
Jim and Sharon advised us as we planned our departure on Monday morning, either leave early (7 a.m.) or leave late (after 9). San Antonio, with all of its history and rich culture, is still a city of 1.1 million people, and most still have to get to work or school. Thus, rush hour is something that one must plan around. We had significant miles to cover today. We chose early. We had three things working against us. One, daylight savings time was one day old. The 7 a.m. was very dark. Two, San Antonio is going through a drought. However, we brought rain. It was dark and rainy. And three, there was construction everywhere.
As Barb and I left the comfy Moa neighborhood where we scooted under magnificent and huge live oak trees we exited a quiet street to city streets. Not far down the road we approached the entry to I-410. The area was dominated by construction and as we peered through the rain and the dark, “It looks like the right lane turns, let’s take the left.” Bad choice. The left lane, our choice, was on coming traffic. A single car appeared in front of us and I was able to pull aside to let it through. Barb hopped out of the RV, wrestled three garbage can sized orange dividers to the side, flagged down oncoming traffic, and allowed me to turn into the correct lane. I couldn’t leave her on such a gallant stroke of fortitude. I stopped, she jumped into the rig, and we ventured on.
Traffic and weather were still a challenge for the next few hours. But by 11 a.m. the clou
ds parted and the southwest desert dominated the rest of the day.We traveled on for 535 miles. As I peered out the window, I remembered the words of that great Mac Davis song, “Texas in My Rear View Mirror” In it he sings of the emptiness of this arid region, but it was home, because it was family. But one of his refrains describes this area well, “West Texas looks best in my rear view mirror,” 535 miles. This area is desolate. Why is it so difficult to find a place to put toxic waste? Put it here.
The interstate was smooth and Barb even drove for 2 hours, her first experience since Montana. As we drove through El Paso, I wished we could stop and experience the city. It is rich in history and the architecture so unique. The UTEP stadium, the Sun Bowl venue, loomed by o
ur route. But we drove on. Tonight we sit in a camp overlooking Las Cruces, New Mexico. Now we should be able to meet our Tucson contacts easily.Pictures, Sharon, Jim and me at the arboretum, West Texas highways, and last, the view from a picnic table at our New Mexico campground.
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