Fort Stockton and Van Horn

Fort Stockton is four hours west of San Antonio, 9,000 people live there and the grocery store clerks weren’t very cheerful or forthcoming Layne said. 

Fort Stockton is useful but I saw no great beauty, no there, there to quote that old chestnut. 

It was Saturday night and car washing was in progress all over town. I could hear people in the side streets joking around getting ready for the big day off. I could hear a cheerful community. 

I saw some sheet music tacked to a telephone pole which seemed odd, so I did what I tell anyone to do: Google it! I found the tune on YouTube, a simple bouncy melody to accompany the simple religious  sentiments. I get points for creativity I think. 

Shopping was done and with a quick stop at the porta potty in the corner of the parking lot,  an odd place I thought as I emptied our cassette, we were on our way. 

Texas has no public land, no Bureau of Land Management or National Forests which means there is no dispersed camping.  What there are is lots of rest areas, picnic areas and parking areas along freeways and state highways. 

There are lots of places to park between Fort Stockton and Van Horn one hour down the freeway. However all the apps said they are packed with semis desperate for a place to park. I did find a tiny county rest area on Texas Highway 17 just off the interstate and there were no trucks or anyone else. We slept the sleep of the just, cold but just as it went down to 31 degrees. 

We stopped near Balmorhea about 44 minutes shy of Van Horn. Layne slept  as I drive through the dark such that by the time we arrived in the town the sun was coming up. Rusty and I went for a walk and I liked what I saw. A small town with a decking population from 2400 ten years ago to 1900 today. 

We were alone on our walk and the air was cold but luckily there was no wind. Rusty did not want to go back to the van so we wandered for an hour. This is a little of what we saw, railroads, historic buildings, small business and through it all a sense of place. Yes there is decrepitude but I saw a certain style as well. 

I looked up Van Horn Barn and as far as I can tell, not very easily, it’s an art collective and performance space. At 7:30 am it was quiet. 

This photo below was inspired by Ansel Adams’ famous photo Moonrise, Hernandez New Mexico 1941 not my favorite of his pictures but I liked the comparison with all these spikes things pointing up at the moon which was setting! 

After an hour I made Rusty stop and we walked back to GANNET2 where he had some water and a snack. And I had a hot cup of Yorkshire Gold tea. 

And then it was back to the road. A moochdock in New Mexico awaited. What a night that was! 

The Alamo

After Houston we had a little breather. I wanted to see San Antonio once again. That turned out to be a bad idea. Friday evening looked lovely when we pulled over for some fresh air. 

On a whim I stopped on an on ramp and let Rusty run. 

Our destination for the night was a rest area an hour from San Antonio. Lots of travelers fear test areas as sinkholes of depravity. We find them very convenient and a great place to stop for the night. Even when we’re off the freeways sometimes we’ll fly on at one ramp to stay at a rest area. GANNET2 is well insulated so traffic noise doesn’t bother us and we usually sleep well. 

This one has an actual trail through the woods for Rusty, as good as a city park. 

Downtown San Antonio was less than enticing we found, much to our surprise. Parking lots were packed and we could see no street parking. We circled pondering what to do. A walk around the Alamo and riverside dining looked unlikely.  

We were on the verge of giving up when we found a parking lot with a few spots. Little wonder I discovered when I went to pay. $30 for five hours? And that was the minimum fee. We could have paid to park overnight which might have been worth it for someone wanting to commune at length with the construction zone downtown. Not us. 

Later, too late, we met a guy who told us that around the other corner there was street meter parking for thirty cents an hour. Most people don’t like to walk he said. Well bugger. If you are in San Antonio look for city meters between 4th and 6th Streets and Broadway and Avenue E. Not too far from The Alamo. 

Another reason not to travel by van! Spend  vast sums to park and end up seeing not much. Where was the Alamo? 

This is what we found. A construction site. Maybe it was just as well as I have a hard time with the myths surrounding the Alamo, which is the creation myth of modern Texas. 

If you want to know the story they never taught you in school Google “The Alamo And Slavery.”  The actual creation of Texas is pretty fascinating in any event but the fact that Mexico outlawed slavery while allowing settlers in from the United States set Texas on a collision course that eventually led to independence. The Brazil River Valley was ideal for cotton but that meant the settlers needed slaves to pick the stuff and make them wealthy. Sam Huston knew slavery was critical for the Americans living in Mexico. That impossible clash of cultures set the scene for the Alamo. 

Apparently we weren’t here at a good time for visitors so we moved on. I expect it will be spectacular in summer, high tourist season. 

So Rusty and I went for a walk and Layne retreated to do some work in our high priced parking spot. She was going to get our money’s worth. 

The Riverwalk is dog friendly so I will bring Rusty back to enjoy it properly. Green water and all. 

We spent an hour wandering what looked like a giant dusty construction site surrounded by parking lots. 

I think we missed something but it will be a while before we get another chance. I’m thinking Spring might be a good time to try to catch flowers in the hill country and see San Antonio before school’s out. Something like that. 

More I-10 I’m afraid. I have to say I enjoyed the drive.  Weird I know but true.  Last year we took the back roads along the border, Big Bend and all so this year with all the delays we were ready to get going. Rolling down I-10 at 65 mph on cruise control listening to a Michael Connelly novel was very relaxing. I had fun. 

Last year we passed through Fredericksburg a city alongside a four lane Main Street. Lots of tourist shops and restaurants. The jewel of the hill country. Been there fine thst and we barely stopped. 

Texas is weird. Almost the entire state is privately owned so it’s not hugely popular with van lifers who typically enjoy off grid camping in national forests. 

There are tons of parking areas, picnic areas and rest areas and you can overnight in any of them. It works for us as we don’t like paying to camp in a commercial RV  park. 

In the end though the scenery is what you see, there are a few small towns with mechanics and gas stations, grocery stores and motels and the usual small town necessaries. At one such gas station I saw a 4x4 Sprinter painted the same shade of gray as Mexican navy vehicles. The driver was a young man driving home from a family gathering and he was envious of the retired graybeard living full time in the Promaster. 

We talked and there wasn’t enough time to talk properly. It was lovely to meet a young family, him her and their two small kids carefully planning for a future in the road by learning to live in a van in their time off now. 

I hope I encouraged him to think it’s possible because they seemed to be doing it right and it was nice to see. I felt transported to that happy place among travelers where I feel at home. He started waxing enthusiastic  about Argentina and Brazil with never a mention of fear or safety. I wanted to sit down and bask in his enthusiasm. A great moment in the I-10 wilderness. So much so I forgot to make a picture. Instead I photographed a dry river channel where I walked Rusty. (above).

The desert started to become apparent. 

Oh yes. The iconic scenery of big oil mesas and buttes…I needed to see a roadrunner. 

Partly cloudy, 65 degrees, not summer and quite comfortable. 

There’s more of this desert freeway at the communities of  Fort Stockton and Van Horn.