Still Day 23: Musings From Cowtown

7:10 PM. CHILDRESS, TX. What a long day! For all our time on the road, we only covered 400 miles, culminating in a frantic search for tolerable lodgings. Money is no longer a factor when choosing a room. In some parts of the country, finding a decent room, at whatever cost, is a monumental challenge. After checking several establishments, we decided on the Best Western here in Childress, somewhere between Amarillo and Dallas.

Albuquerque was blessed with heavy rains again last night. More submerged streets and flooded homes were featured on the late evening news. Finally there's relief from the drought, but at great cost to those living in low lying areas. I can't even begin to address the floods in the east...

Today's journey took us through eastern New Mexico, which looked just like my teenage memories of the Land of Enchantment: red soil, tufts of dark green shrubs, mesas, hills and buttes. In some areas, the vegetation was almost lush. Our morning drive was highly enjoyable. M doesn't like it when I take photos while I'm driving (see photo below), but I can't help myself. I just love to hear that shutter click.


Midday, we pulled into Tucumcari, NM , population 5500, to take a break from drving and explore the city. They say it's easy to find dinosaur fossils and footprints in the area. There's even a dinosaur museum in town. The town's original name was Six Shooter Siding and I have no idea what that means. No one seems to know what Tucumcari means either, but there's speculation that it's derived from a Comanche word meaning "lookout point." However, there are other theories and no one can be sure. Regardless, I've not seen such a depressed, rundown town in a long time. A quick stop at the Chamber of Commerce yielded attractive images of a town long gone. Route 66, celebrated in an annual Route 66 Festival, boasts vintage 60s motels, which for the most part have not been updated. One can find a room in an original Route 66 motel in Tucumcari for only $17.95. However, one must be content with bedsheets for window curtains. Get your kicks on Route 66...

Wind farms were visible on the horizon in New Mexico and Texas, and we wondered about a world powered exclusively by solar, wind and hydro. We knew we were in the Texas panhandle when mesas gave way to miles and miles of plains, dotted with the occasional cow or windmill.

Speaking of cows, sometime this afternoon we came upon an enormous beef ranch alongside the Interstate. Though I've enjoyed occasional forays into the vegetarian lifestyle, I'm really a carnivore at heart. However, I have certain requirements for eating meat: it must be neatly disguised only on my plate and bear no resemblance to an animal. At the supermarket it should look like something interesting on a styrofoam tray, neatly wrapped in Saran. Show me the animal from which that steak is cut and I'll go running for the tofu. It was painful to see thousands of beef cattle herded into pens at the side of the road, knowing they would eventually wind up on someone's plate. It's a tough issue for me. I enjoy meat. I enjoy the texture, the flavor, the nutritional benefits. I am one who believes red meat is not unhealthy when consumed in moderation. But please, don't tell me it comes from an animal. I prefer to believe that steak grows on trees and is packaged on nice plastic trays for good people like me. Never mention Mad Cow Disease. And never, ever serve me a fish with its head still attached without plenty of decorative kale garnish to blanket its eyes.

Medically this derangement is known as DSD, or Dietary Schizophrenia Disorder. The only known treatment is a four week hunting trip in the mountains of North Carolina.


Speaking of beef, I have worked up a fierce hunger, so I think I'll break for dinner now and return to my musings later.

9:40 PM. We've just returned from a sunset walk with Murphy and noticed significant damage to buildings and signage near the motel. Evidently an F2 tornado roared through Childress on May 9. The town was struck by a tornado in April 2004 as well. The evidence of wind damage is so unmistakeable: blown out signs and shingles littering parking lots. We are so familiar with storm debris. I wish we weren't.