Lets start with a photo. This is merely a play on words, because there are lots of signs and bumper stickers around here that just say the first bit, but they leave out the littering reference. There are also lots of t shirts for sale with the caption, "We don't call 911", underneath a photo of a revolver. I just reckon Texas is OK.
I have just spent the last two days in a town called Leakey. With a name like that, there is a cheap one-liner everywhere you look. I know this is juvenile, but I can't stop myself.
Lucky they don't build boats or fix roofs. Apparently its supposed to be pronounced Lay-key, but I reckon if they didn't want people to call it Leakey then they should have spelled it differently. Enough said.
Not a lot happens in Leakey, but it is just far enough out of San Antonio and a few other large places for people, mainly bikers, to come to town for a weekend. There is some excellent riding to be had in the surrounding hills. In fact the Texas Hill country was a total surprise to me, I imagined Texas to be flat, dry, hot, dusty, etc. like in the westerns. That comes later. I stayed at a bikers only lodging, the D'Rose Inn, which was recommended to me. Its a great little spot, even though it was quiet and the weather wasn't great while I was there. But I did have some excellent rides in the area and met some very nice people. Bike people, what more do I need to say?
I had a very wet departure from Leakey, no pun intended, it was fairly belting down this morning. In fact it rained most of the night, and at one stage there was a thunderstorm that just about threw me out of bed, and it put the power out. Lucky for me, I have a stove and a torch, so I could make breakfast. So I headed out of the Hill Country to the moderately sized city of Del Rio, on the Mexican border. Another Air Force base here, and I got buzzed by fighter jets (again) as I rode past the end of the runway, in the rain. Tell you what, there is so much air power on display in Texas its scary. Do they think Mexico is going to invade or what? Clearly the Mexicans favour the stealthy approach, rather than a massive armoured assault across the Rio Grande.
I became a victim of this security when I was stopped a few miles past Del Rio, at a permanent Border Inspection Station. Here, they were stopping all vehicles, checking the ID of all occupants, and letting the dogs have a sniff around for drugs or people concealed in the vehicle. Guys, why would anybody concealing drugs or people drive through as permanent inspection station on a US Highway that everyone knows about? More to the point, why did they ask for my passport? I was riding a US registered vehicle in the US, not entering the US at a border crossing. Really, I'm just dark because it took me 20 minutes of unpacking to find the bloody thing, seeing as I didn't reckon I'd be needing it again until Canada. Its kind of amusing that Mexicans that live here are stopping other Mexicans that don't live here from trying to live here. Sometimes its really hard to work out what country I'm in!
Which reminds me. Just to change tack for a bit, I wouldn't mind a dollar for everyone of these I've seen since North Carolina, I could pay for my trip 10 times over at least.
Its a Baptist Church, with its typical pointy little steeple, and they are absolutely everywhere. Even really small towns can have several. I have been traveling through the Bible Belt alright, no doubt about that. Do we even have Baptists in Australia? It must be a well kept secret if we do. They appear to be the heavy duty type here, real dour killjoy Protestants, with their Work Ethic, and their dry counties. Have they got time to do anything except build churches and tell everyone else what to do? And I have never, ever trusted anybody with one of those dorky looking beards without a moustache! Us Micks reckon Work is the curse of the Drinking class, (thank you, Oscar Wilde) and we are too busy doing that and increasing the population to do or care about too much else. My mob didn't get a look in until I got back into the Hispanic demographic, but now we seem to be fighting back a bit. OK, I think I've probably offended pretty much everyone by now.
Anyhoo, the thing that struck me today was that the countryside started to look familiar once I got West of the Pecos. There's a good book title if ever I heard one. At last I am in the wide open spaces again, for the first time since leaving home. Everywhere else has been so unbelievably, well, just populated. Its great, its exciting, but there are just people and roads and traffic and advertising signs and buildings everywhere. I guess 300 million people just take up a lot of room. Except here. After crossing the Pecos, via this here bridge,
the countryside started to take on a very familiar guise, in fact I could have sworn I was in Central Australia, with saltbush plains and a bit of teatree thrown in now and again, with familiar colours against a backdrop of rounded hills with rock strata and protruding outcrops visible. Great riding conditions, nice and cool, no wind, hardly any traffic and hardly any people. I loved it. Am I anti-social or what?
Anyway, the bubble burst a bit when I pulled into a motel for the night in Alpine TX, which looks like a nice spot. There was an elderly couple in a huge pickup truck in the carpark, and the guy started chatting. Apparently he had come down to visit Big Bend National Park, on the border just south of here (which I will also visit tomorrow) and so far he and the missus were very disillusioned. "There's nothing here, just nothing at all", he lamented. And they live in Texas! "Yes", I replied, "isn't it great, looks just like Australia". So he thinks I'm crazy, and won't be coming on down. He didn't hear me when I said it doesn't all look like this, but by then it was too late. Oh well.
OK, one more thing. On the way into Leakey, I flashed past what I thought was a herd of cows in a paddock, and did a big double take. Look what I saw.
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