Twisty, Curvy Roads

But I often have no idea where the rest of the world lies in relation to my location. I left Round Rock at about 3pm this afternoon headed for Colorado to visit my son,  Patrick, and his family for Thanksgiving. Usually I navigate by a loose sort of dead reckoning..., since Colorado is to the north and a bit west of Round Rock, I just point the front of the FJ somewhere in that general direction and hang on for the ride. Typically I have only a very loose time schedule, so if I see anything that looks interesting I turn that way. That means I often turn a one day trip into a three or four  day excursion! Today I decided that I would go by a more direct route. I pulled the GPS unit from the glovebox and set it for my  Son's address in Colorado. As I suspected it would, it pointed me straight up IH35 toward Ft. Worth.  From where I live to Ft.Worth is close to 200 of the most boring miles on this planet.  Well, perhaps "boring" is not the correct word. It would be bo

With the rain over the last few days has had me feeling cooped up, so I decided to hitch up and make a short trip through the Texas countryside. I pulled out of Round Rock fairly late this afternoon and headed for my Uncle Jarret's gravesite near Tunis, Texas. Uncle Jarret was my great-great Grandfather's younger brother. They grew up together in Jackson County Alabama, and while still very young, went with Andy Jackson to fight in the Florida Wars. My family has not produced many musicians, but Uncle Jarret evidently had enough skill to become a bugler in the war. Sometime after they returned from the Florida War, Uncle Jarret moved away from Jackson County. First to Mississippi near his wife's family, and then, around 1850, to Caldwell County Texas, where he lived the rest of his life. Jarret Jones Ivy's headstone Uncle Jarret, his wife Eliza, and one of his sons, Bill, are buried in Providence Cemetery near Tunis, Texas. This is a very old cemetery

High Bridge over the Rio Grand Gorge US 84 Looking North after leaving IH40 Friday morning, after leaving the Waylon Jennings RV Park in Littlefield, Texas, I drove on to Billy The Kid's stomping grounds around Fort Sumpter, New Mexico, and then turned north on Route 84 toward Las Vegas, New Mexico. I decided to take the Eastern route from Las Vegas, north through the Mora Valley, and then west across the mountains to Taos. Pueblo, Rio on New Mexico 518 Near Taos, NM. This is a nice drive and has the advantage of reaching some high country sooner than sticking with 84 through Santa Fe and Espanola. At one time, Taos was an interesting village. Mountain man, Kit Carson made his home there. Even twenty years ago Taos retained some charm. I could wander the streets, meet some interesting people, and browse the art in the shops.  Today, Taos seems more of a crowded tourist trap that depends upon narrow streets and Adobe architecture for what charm it can still muster. I

I was sleeping the sleep of the dead when Max decided to wake me at seven this morning. After a few preemptory scratches behind his ear, I immediately turned over for another couple of hours of sleep. So it was close to nine-thirty when we finally rolled out of Walon Jennings Park in Littlefield, Texas. We pointed the FJ toward Clovis, New Mexico where I would have to decide upon the next leg of our route. My choices were to head north from Clovis and strike a wonderfully little traveled road between Tucumcari and Las Vegas, or stick with 84 through Billy The Kid's old stomping ground, Ft. Sumner. I decided to stick with 84, partially because it would save some time, but really because of the memories of traveling that route with my friend, Vic Williams back when I first began to explore New Mexico and Colorado in the seventies. My friend, Vic Williams Vic had encyclopedic knowledge and kept up a running travelogue as we would progress in his VW bus from Austin to wher

Listen to this article read aloud: Your browser does not support the audio element. The Sign Marker at Stony Pass Today is the day that I hope to accomplish something that has been on my mind for almost forty years.  I hiked through Stony Pass when I hiked the Continental Divide Trail many years ago. Here at Stony Pass, the foot trail crosses a jeep trail and I have wanted to follow the jeep trail ever since. This is the first time that I have had a vehicle suited to this rugged terrain. In fact, I bought my Toyota FJ Cruiser with this particular trip in mind! Today, We will see if the reality matches the dream? I took my time driving here from Round Rock, Texas. My pup, Max, and I stayed on the lesser-traveled roads as much as possible.  Driving through West Texas has never been particularly high on my list of things that I am dying to do, but it is the only way to get from where I live in Central Texas, to the mountains of New Mexi

It is three and one-half minutes past four in the morning. I was having trouble sleeping ( possibly due to an evening repast of Wolf Brand Chili followed immediately by a generous helping of Blue Bell's Buttered Pecan ice cream) and so decided to give it up and take Max for a walk on the front lawn. As I am standing on my front lawn in my skivvies, Max is taking advantage of a convenient elm tree. Or perhaps, in his mind, he is making certain that the elm has enough moisture to grow another foot in height before dawn. At any rate, it crossed my mind that my Williamson County neighbors might consider this to be some sort of deviant behavior. So I came inside and sat before my computer (which is probably even more deviant than roaming the front lawn in my skivvies!). In truth, given the random thoughts that had been rotating around in my skull just before I decided to get up and go outside, "deviant" may be a mild term to describe my early morning thought processes. S