oh, i'm in a lull

Austin, TX - A warm, humid, and overcast late morning - chance of thunderstorms during my entire stay

I'll just start off with an entirely obvious statement: Texas is friggin huge. I spent eight hours yesterday speeding my way to Austin, and I'm still only halfway across. Boggles the mind.

Listen.

(5/3/07) I woke up early at Jimena's, still excited about the javelina, and posted a blog. I got on the 10 a little after 7am. No traffic to speak of. I stopped in Willcox, AZ for gas, coffee, and four bundles of firewood. The night before, I had spent some time clearing room in my trunk for four days-worth of firewood. It all fit very nicely. I'd have no want of campfire at Guadalupe. I cruised through New Mexico without stopping and then hit Texas. I stopped in El Paso for supplies. El Paso is actually one city out here I know my around a little. I'd been there a couple times for work. The familiarity was nice. Ice, beer, cash, but no gas. I had over a third of a tank and figured, looking at the map, that gas would be available numerous times.

Cross-country tip #1: Never make important decisions, like when to get gas, based soley upon a map

Speeding east along on 62/180 you see that, after reaching the El Paso city limits, all there is is desert, and more desert. Making good progress, the gas guage was nearing the "E". The problem with the road atlas is that it assigns dots along this road to locations which are long since deserted. These are the same dots which represent legitimate towns in other places. What you actually get are delapidated "cafes" and forgotten roadside attractions. Gas pumps from the 50's with faded "NO GAS" signs. I pushed forward, not nervous yet. Plenty more dots to go.

Then I got to Dell Junction. There was a functioning gas station, with an open sign and posted hours which confirmed that I was in luck. Around the station were chcikens, roosters, chick cages, and an adorable kitty. But no attendant. The door was locked. The kitten sympathized, and consoled me with loud purring and headbutts. However, the kitty refused to sell me any gas. I honked the horn over and over. Nobody emerged. A "Back in __ minutes" sign would have been appreciated. I waited a half-hour and grew impatient. I probably had enough gas to make it to Guadalupe, where I figured they'd have a gas station. What would Horatio Alger do? I pressed on.

About ten miles to go, the road to Guadalupe starts a 1,000 foot ascent. At the base of this climb, the little gas light came on. I hadn't seen that light come on in years. "Dear Lord." I turned off the AC, the cruise control, the power inverter, and the radio and hoped for the best. The engine groaned, laden with four bundles of firewood. Suffice to say: I was getting nervous. I made it though. The Integra sputtered into the visitor center parking lot. (sigh) At the very least, I thought, I'd have four days to figure out how to get gas. Turns out the nearest gas stations were 32 and 35 miles away. No way I'd make it on fumes.

Fortunately, for my dumb-ass, the park ranger had 2-gallon tanks of emergency gas for sale. $10. Worth every penny. The gas gauge safely back at 1/8, I struck camp.

Unfortunately, campfires were prohibited. Only gas stoves were allowed.

Guadalupe Mts. is a lovely spot, and at an elevation of 5,000 feet or so is much cooler than most of texas. The park features the highest point in Texas, somwhere around 8,500 feet. Clear but very windy. The strong gusts made setting up my tent a comedy of errors. Once set up though, the tent was a rock. LL Bean: Accept No Substitutes. (http://www.llbean.com/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/CategoryDisplay?page=ultra-dome-tent&categoryId=45604&parentCategory=500106&cat4=1096&storeId=1&catalogId=1&langId=-1&feat=1096-sub2)

Knowing that the Coleman stove burners would be blown out regularly with the gale force winds, I set up a wind barrier next to the table. It worked great. The burners only blew out a couple times while making dinner. It was temporary though, by the next morning the tarp grommets popped under constant strain. I tried to use another tarp, but its grommets popped before I could even finish installation. Ah well. For the remainder of my stay, I'd cook in the tent. I'd close the tent front door and open the rear door. This was the best way to cook. The stove was unaffected as large gusts caused the tent to rock left and right. By night-time, the wind calmed a bit and I was treated to some of the best stars I'd ever seen. Out-doing the clearest nights in Maine, Jupiter, Venus, and Mars were conspicuous. The milky way was obvious. Satellites hurriedly cruised by all portions of the night sky. Wow.

(5/4/07) I mostly took it real easy this day. Sunny and windy. I organized and re-organized my gear. Then I made a trip to Dell City for gas and supplies. Not much going on in Dell City, truth be told. Then I returned to camp and had a pork chop and canned spinach for dinner. I slept better that night than any other to date. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dell_City%2C_TX)

(5/5/07) Waking up feeling like a million bucks, I was ready for some hiking. I packed a PBJ and water and made for Devil's Hall trail. The trail is a moderate hike, some 4.2 miles in total. Set amongst a dried up river bed, the Hall trail exposes many of the sediment layers of the area. The actual hall is impressive, and I imagined it as the site of late night pagan rituals and had fun taking timer-shots with the Canon. Cacti, bugs, and lizards. Some very yellow birds flying about. Had myself a PBJ and headed back.

(Note: the Starbucks I'm stationed at is playing an Andrew Bird song and Coachella memories swirl in my mind - that whistling...)

After some lunch I made for Carlsbad Caverns NP, a 40 minute drive over the New Mexico border. I got to the visitor center just in time to catch the last elevator down to the "Big Room." Words really can't describe the place adequately. Some 750 feet underground, the "Big Room" caverns were like nothing I'd ever seen before. Carefully placed lights reveal a spellbinding asortment of domes, bottomless pits, numerous types of stalagtites/stalagmites, crevices, and caves. The trail which leads you along the room's perimeter is 1.3 miles. Your imagination comes alive with the room's asortment of peculiar formations. All a result of water and time. I was glad to have my little headlamp, which allowed me to peak into several unlit wonders. Park rangers stand by to give you geology lessons. I'm so glad I went. Its a natural wonder as great at anything else I've seen. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carlsbad_Caverns)

Returning to camp, I took a hard look at the road atlas. My original plan had been to stay until Monday, drive to Austin, and then that night see a Hitchcock film at the Alamo Drafthouse. I realized that evening that there was no way I'd be able to enjoy a film after an eight-hour drive across Texas. So I decided to leave Sunday morning instead. I called the motel and added a day to my reservation. The wind that night was the worst, often waking me up in the middle of the night as the tent poles were pushed to their limits. Sometimes, the poles would actually bend the wrong way, despite my best efforts to secure them.

Cross-country tip #2: When camping in a very windy environment, tie-down your tent-fly to the ground with bungee cords. The cords allow the fly to flex a little under heavy gusts. This helps to prevent a very loud flapping sound.

(5/6/07) I woke up at sunrise and found the campgrounds to be totally windless. This was a break, as I was able to make coffee and break-down the tent unhindered. Packed-up the car. Feeling a lot better at having no deadline, I sped away at 8:30am. An hour into it, I crossed another time-zone line. Having lost an hour, I was even glader to have changed my plans.

I crusied and cruised. Bjork, Caribou, Muse, and Death Vessel albums made up my soundtrack. Then I listened to the rubber match of the Red Sox/Minnesota series. The Sox won, barely, 4-3. Curt Schilling went 4-1 while Okajima and Paplebon worked their magic. Looks like Pedrioa is starting to find his groove. After about seven hours I started getting a little wiggy. Bleary-eyed, I thought (not for the first time) that a co-pilot would have come in handy. At a little over eight hours, this was probably my longest drive during the east-bound trip.

I arrived in Austin, and was pleased with how easily I found the motel. Preparations made in Tucson paid off. A shower and dinner at Denny's.

These are wild-weather days in Texas, as a big ol' thunderstorm is sitting over west Texas. Its edge is about fifty miles west of here, so for now the skies are just overcast. At any time this thing could shift and dump on Austin. I wouldn't mind that at all. My umbrella is ready.

Tonight I'm going to the Alamo Drafthouse (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alamo_Drafthouse). The theater is given a nod in Tarantino's half of Grindhouse.* Infact, much of Tarantino's feature is set in Austin, which is very cool to me at the moment. The Drafthouse is playing Hitchcock's "Strangers On a Train." I'll take the Integra, laden still with four bundles of firewood, downtown to get ideas for what do to the rest of my time here.

On Wednesday, I'll head eastward again. If this thunderstorm system moves the way its forecasted, it will dump a lot of rain on the Sam Houston Jones SP in Louisiana that day. If thats the case, I'll try and book an extra night in New Orleans and go strait there. It will be more expensive, but well worth keeping all my gear dry in the car trunk.

For all the pictures: http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AcMnLVq3aN2Ee

Okie dokie. My odyssey continues. Really looking forward to the Drafthouse, and maybe some live music. You are all in my thoughts.

More soon.

Andy

* If you haven't yet, go see Grindhouse. Seriously.