Yesterday, a drive to Pecos. Sunny day and up to 80 degrees, down I-20 through Stanton, Midland, Odessa and out into the Permian Basin filthy rich in petroleum, natural gas and potassium. I passed Sandy Hills State Park and marked it as somewhere to return to, saw a sign for the Texas Pecos Trail and thought that's something I need to look into, saw signs for Kermit, New Mexico, El Paso, and had the urge to keep going. The Davis Mountains came into view on the southern horizon. Small dead coyotes along the shoulders of the highway mingled with ribbons of truck tires and plastic hung up in the scrub. The closer we got to Pecos, the more trash there was along the roadsides. It's all pump jacks, tanks, pipes. tracks, flares, drilling rigs, trucks, man camps - oil boom.
The Pecos River is what I wanted to see. I glimpsed it crawling under the highway, hardly more than a stream, winding it's way through the oil fields. A personal injury lawyer had taken out a billboard bragging about a 10 million dollar settlement he'd won for a client blown up in an oil field explosion.
Pecos was quiet on Sunday noon. A desert town, again with the trash and old cars and pieces of things strewn all around. Rodeo grounds - home of the first ever rodeo - and real tacos at the gas station/market for $1.20. Found a Mexican seafood place very far from the sea and giggled to myself about them probably serving Pecos perch. Stopped in for fish tacos and a Chelada. Made a friend from Cleveland who came down here after being laid off from her Assistant Principal's position. Said she always wanted to drive a big rig. She lives in one of the man camps. She told me she just keeps to herself and works 4 weeks on and 2 weeks off. She's working on her Ph.D on line at night. She was dressed up in big gold hoop earrings and necklace in that dark place with it's Mexican futbol on the TV and short Mexican men under baseball caps all packed into the picnic table seating.
The Pecos River is what I wanted to see. I glimpsed it crawling under the highway, hardly more than a stream, winding it's way through the oil fields. A personal injury lawyer had taken out a billboard bragging about a 10 million dollar settlement he'd won for a client blown up in an oil field explosion.
Pecos was quiet on Sunday noon. A desert town, again with the trash and old cars and pieces of things strewn all around. Rodeo grounds - home of the first ever rodeo - and real tacos at the gas station/market for $1.20. Found a Mexican seafood place very far from the sea and giggled to myself about them probably serving Pecos perch. Stopped in for fish tacos and a Chelada. Made a friend from Cleveland who came down here after being laid off from her Assistant Principal's position. Said she always wanted to drive a big rig. She lives in one of the man camps. She told me she just keeps to herself and works 4 weeks on and 2 weeks off. She's working on her Ph.D on line at night. She was dressed up in big gold hoop earrings and necklace in that dark place with it's Mexican futbol on the TV and short Mexican men under baseball caps all packed into the picnic table seating.
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