Don’t Mess with Texas
Journal Entry #23
February 23, 2022
All told, we just finished over a month in Texas, traveling from the eastern edge, to the hill country, to the southern border, to the far western tip of the state. Our time in West Texas, in particular, was like experiencing the myth-reality of Texas in real time; it is otherworldly and breathtakingly beautiful, and a force to be reckoned with.
The thing is, Texas is big. You’ve no doubt heard this before. The pick-up trucks are big. The hats are big. The dogs are big. The high western desert lands are vast and open, with tall canyons, massive craggy peaks and rocky washes. The limestone and clay colored vistas, dotted with the gray-green creosote bushes, go on for miles and miles.
Texan pride is also big. It seems a “nation” state in the truest sense of the word. It occurred to us, as we sat by our fire one night looking out at the slow moving Rio Grande, that many of the Texans living out here (admittedly, not many in the closest town to us that evening, 40 miles down the road—Lajitas, Texas, population: 75) live far closer to Mexico than any other US state. The idea of what is happening in places like Washington DC or New York City, or how people think or what people care about in those far off places must seem like a distant abstraction. Spending time here, I can see why it would seem this way.
We still stream WNYC/NPR in the morning when we have a decent signal and it is a comfort and a reminder of “home,” but there have been times where the world news and East Coast issues have seemed abstract, distant and almost irrelevant even to me, an avid news junky and someone who is relatively plugged in to current events. And I have only been out here a month! We wake up in some remote corner of Texas, watch an epic sunrise, hear nothing but the wind and bird call and make coffee. We put on NPR radio. And in that moment it suddenly seems very strange to think there is an entire world with people and concerns beyond this wide open expanse.
Spending weeks in rural West Texas has given me insight into why many Texans think the way they do. People that live in a place this vast and wild, by choice or by circumstance, seem to have a fierce independence, a strong connection to the land, a rugged spirit, and an “I’ve got this” (and I don’t need you city folk) attitude. Spend time in Texas and it begins to make sense. Landscapes do sculpt the culture and outlook of its people; Texans are rugged, tough, proud. They harbor no nonsense, no fancy shit. They dream big. What seems to matter most? Family. Land. Personal freedom. God.
The Texans we met over the past month were all of these things - they were also unfailingly kind and welcoming to us, even though we were clearly “not from around these parts.” I will admit it was really hard not to admire Texas and Texans, despite how vastly different my home landscape and culture is and how different my outlook is because of it.
In fact, it was in Texas that I stood at the edge of a 2000 ft precipice in Big Bend, and summited Guadalupe Peak, a tough switchbacking, cliff hugging hike up to 8750 ft. I have a healthy fear of heights so, though the physical elements were well within my abilities, conquering the mental challenges were an accomplishment. Texas inspired me to be tough and to push my own limits- to say and to believe that “I’ve got this.”
As John Steinbeck so aptly wrote about Texas:
“For all its enormous range of space, climate, and physical appearance, and for all the internal squabbles, contentions, and strivings, Texas has a tight cohesiveness perhaps stronger than any other section of America. Rich, poor, Panhandle, Gulf, city, country, Texas is the obsession, the proper study, and the passionate possession of all Texans."
Or more succinctly stated by a native West Texan:
“Some folks look at me and see a certain swagger, which in Texas is called 'walking.' -G.W. Bush
A little Texas swagger is a good thing. Farewell Texas.
Love this one. I feel seen—like y’a’ll might know me a little bit better by taking in my formative landscapes. That Texas/New Mexico diphthong is mighty.
Especially loved this one. A good reminder that we need to keep an open mind and get out of the NE bubble. Stay well and keep 'em coming!