Wheeeeere's Johnny Day 4

I’ve been a bit recalcitrant to updating this tome while visiting friends and family this weekend. The trip from Van Horn to San Antonio on Thursday began just before sunrise heading out I-10 over the Trans-Pecos. There is quite a topographical change between the deserts of California, Arizona and New Mexico to the rolling hills of West Texas where scrub oaks predominate the landscape. The gradual elevation decrease of 3,000 feet enroute to San Antonio is masked by the constant undulation of the terrain. Just before crossing the Pecos River I spotted a “scenic loop” and me being me, I decided to check it out. The 24-mile diversion took us through the town of Sheffield, which unlike its namesake in England was never a center of manufacturing of any kind. This town is probably as desolate and as poor as it gets in Texas. A bit further on I came across the Fort Lancaster Historical Site. The fort was established in 1855 to protect travelers and mail on the overland route from San Antonio the San Diego. The outpost was permanently abandoned in 1868 and all that remains are some foundation walls and a small visitor’s center. As far as the diversion being “scenic,” the only difference in the view that I could see was the change from a four-lane Interstate to two-lanes.

As with the journey through Arizona and New Mexico, this area is also heavily patrolled by U.S. Customs and Border Patrol agents. I encountered two Border Patrol checkpoints and several unmanned gauntlets where your picture is taken as you cruise through. The speed limit along I-10 is 80 mph and I spent a majority of my time at or above that number with nary a complaint from Johnny. Only the minimally annoying vibration from the front, which seemed to subside somewhat as the speed increased. I’m beginning to wonder now if it may be a motor mount instead of a strut problem. Something to look forward to sorting out at the end of the journey. One of the nice things about this car that I eluded to earlier was the expansive glass and great visibility. This lends itself to resting one’s elbow on the door ledge with the window down. That is something I can’t really say is comfortable to do in a modern survival cocoon.

One slightly disturbing image I passed with almost as much regularity as mile markers were spots of burned areas along their shoulder of the road. These weren't from the carelessness of a discarded cigarette, but a marker of where somebody's car burned to the ground along the highway. Miles from nowhere, I’m sure this was a completely helpless feeling watching what in some cases must have been all of one’s worldly possessions go up in flames. The striking regularly of these spots along the highway traversing the desert and chaparral gives one pause. I’m glad I brought along a fire extinguisher.

It took the full eight hours to make it to my buddy’s house in San Antonio and of course, I hit the north west part of town during rush hour. Like El Paso before it, San Antonio traffic is every bit as bad as what I encountered in L.A. or even back east in D.C. The other thing I find universal is that the closer you get to big cities the more assholes you encounter on the freeway. Sheer stupidity, ignorance and arrogance must be genetically engrained in at least 15% of the population. True to form, the SRS light came on about 15 minutes from destination telling me it was time to call it a day. Thankfully, Johnny and I were able to arrive at Paul and Julie’s house unscathed and enjoyed a nice dinner along with a few adult beverages while we caught up and reminisced.

Ft. Lancaster