West Texas Mountains

Since I returned from the mountains out in the Big Bend, I’ve been thinking a lot about Far West Texas, and thought I’d re-post this piece I wrote awhile back. It’s still just as true to me.


It was almost funny, really. Here we were at a Border Patrol checkpoint all the way out in Terlingua, Texas, our car stuffed with our bags. Evening was closing in, and we were trying to explain that we were just two road-weary travelers who were making our way for the full 8 hours back to Austin that very night. No, we hadn’t been over the border today. Yes, we live in Austin, even though the car has Kansas plates, doesn’t belong to either one of us (it’s her mom’s, you see), and I’m showing you an Oklahoma license. 

Sir, please step out of the car…

It wasn’t the best of circumstances in which to be, that was for sure. But as I quietly endured my pat-down with the nearby drug dog, I noticed something. The sun was going down on the mountains of West Texas, and every passing minute changed…

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