Leaving the park, the next stop is Langtry, Texas, the site of Judge Roy Bean, law west of the Pecos. We turned in, having been raised watching television and movies that featured the judge, but everything was closed and there was not much beyond a few historical markers. The towns along this stretch of Texas owe much of their existence to the building of the railroad that connects the lower part of the US to the west coast, the Southern Pacific transcontinental railroad. Most of these towns are dusty, ramshackle concerns, a few inhabitants and establishments, serving local ranchers and probably hunters.
I noticed that the entrances to ranches became less elaborate the further west we went. From the imposing and artful structures of other ranch entrances, once you get west of Del Rio, they are more like cattle guards with a “bump” gate that you can bump with your pickup to get through. A few brands or metal figures of deer or javelinas, perhaps a rusty shade of red was about the extent of the decoration. But then, the roads were dusty threads out to unseen ranches, perhaps just hunting ranches. A few cattle munching grass, some sheep and goats just west of Del Rio, and then the sightings of livestock diminish to the random cow or steer as you go further into Big Bend territory.
We like to count the wildlife we see on our trips; memorable here besides the javelinas crossing the highway and the roadkill (deer) along the highway are the two tarantulas we saw crossing the road. A spider has got to be big for you to see it walking across the road from the comfort of your truck. I’m just saying . . . .
Sanderson, Texas, home of the Terrell County Hunter’s Feast, the ridges along the highway dotted with deer blinds and hunters’ camps. Driving over a rise in the road and then down, we saw some black objects in the road. I was going to dodge them, but they turned out to be a family of javelinas. Javelinas are pecories that resemble furry hogs, black course fur trimmed in grey around the neck, a snout for a nose. Known for their tenacity, they are also the mascots of my university, Texas A&M--Kingsville. These guys just stood in the middle of the road, frozen, each about four feet from the other. Since there was no traffic, I too stopped and waited from them to come to alert and run across the road or dash back into the tall, yellow grass on the side of the road. Then Marathon, with its one or two blocks of the main street edged by vehicles, nice looking ones, of folks visiting the Gage Hotel and the few bars and eateries for Thanksgiving. The women looked well-dressed, surely visitors from San Antonio or Austin, walking about the dusty town with drinks, wine--chardonnay most likely-- in clear plastic cups.