The Restas of Texas – And Elsewhere!

Dear Friends and Family,

After I left Big Bend NP, it still took me another day to cross the rest of Texas:

I have many strong opinions about Texas, but my strongest opinion about Texas is that “there’s a lot of it.” And I mean a looooooot of it. I spent two full days driving to Big Bend from the Louisiana state line; it would be another full day before I hit Texas’s far western foci of El Paso. This post will cover the events of that single day only, since the next few posts must be necessarily longer due to the new character being introduced 😉 .

A little ways outside of Big Bend NP’s western end is the alleged ghost town of Terlingua, Texas. I say “alleged” because while the town was originally a company mining town built in the 1900s and mostly depopulated by the 1950s, the town went through a significant resurgence after the establishment of the national park. This is clearly evidenced by the state of the town cemetery:

The town cemetery is an interesting mix of people who died in the early 1900s and early 2000s, with little middle ground. Some graves are ornate and traditional:

Some are very simple:

And some of them have that sort of early-2000s “eclectic” vibe:

Damn, I don’t know who you were, Dr. Doug, but I would have loved to meet you!

This one touched me in a very particular way:

I’m not sure why. I liked the seats in front of it; they seemed so inviting, they seemed to say “come and sit a while, take a rest with me.”

As for the rest of Terlingua, it’s surprisingly built up for being a “ghost town.” Here’s a couple of the old buildings around town:

Terlingua was remarkably progressive on Prison Reform, being the first jail in the old west to provide inmates with wifi.

However, there are also plenty of new ones:

A millennial gray coffee shop AND a pickleball court? Gentrification’s come for Terlingua 😞.

Despite this being the deepest, reddest heart of Trump Country (I mean, you have to be DEEP in MAGA to invoke “stop the steal” to make a point), locals are overwhelmingly opposed to the border wall, because they know it will completely destroy Big Bend National Park and take their livelihoods with it. It was very impressive and even refreshing to see that people out here are willing to support their own interests above Trump’s megalomaniacal ones.

If you’ve lost Terlingua, I can’t imagine what you think you’re going to gain for the nation.

Anyways, after you leave Terlingua, Texas just goes on,

And on,

And on,

And on, and o- holy heck, is that a blimp?

It was a blimp! Well, an unmanned observation balloon, anyways. I noticed a few of these on the road west of Alpine, Texas; the administration is apparently using them for migrant interdiction.

Friendly flags in Marfa, Texas. As I heard a Texas woman say at the Grand Canyon, “there are some blueberries in the raspberry bush.”

Aaaaaaanyways, one on the last towns on the way to El Paso is the tiny locale of Valentine:

Some say it takes two to tango, some say it takes a village, and Valentine says if takes 73 exactly. Weird that it’s not an even number ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯.

There isn’t much at all in Valentine, aside from what I can only describe as the diviest of all dive bars of all time:

Don’t believe me? Here’s the back:

Friends, I would have KILLED to drink a beer here. I bet it would have been barely 75 cents, tip included. But alas, the only bar in Valentine, Texas, closes early on Sundays 😞.

Back to the road:

Once you leave Valentine, you are well and truly in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing and no one around for hundreds of miles, just you and the car and the road. You’re a tiny, tiny boat bobbing in a sea of land, nothing but you and the tarmac and the tumbleweeds. Nothing, nothing at all, except for:

A Prada store?

Wait, what?

Yup! In the middle of all this nothingness is a Prada store! Prada Marfa, to be exact!

Astonishingly, not a mirage!

There’s limited inventory:

And limited parking:

But it’s definitely real! And YOU can see it! And I find it absolutely delightful!!!

Pictured: me, stoked out of my gourd

Okay, so what Prada Marfa actually is: it’s an art piece, installed 20 years ago or so. The plaque nearby doesn’t state if it’s a commentary or a compliment or a poke or prod at anything, it’s really just intended as a funny little bit of absurdism. It’s a Prada store. But it’s in the middle of nowhere (Marfa). It’s Prada Marfa. Get it? I do and I love it!!!

Pictured: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I just love this absurdist little shed! I’ve wanted to see it for years, arguably since before the last road trip ended! What a funny idea: “I thought of a weird thing and I am going to put it HERE. Right HERE!” Is there anything more American? The Bigfoot Museum of Eureka, California, the world’s largest pistachio in Alamagordo, New Mexico, the world’s largest statue of a catfish in Wahpeton, North Dakota; and now, Prada Marfa joins the ranks. THIS is the great American melting pot, this all-American melange of eccentricity, hyper-local civic pride, and crushing, abject boredom that unites us all. This is the kind of thing that can make you proud of this country 🇺🇸.

And of course, in addition to the inanity of Prada Marfa itself, there is also this to love about the art piece:

Readers of this blog know that one of my favorite things in the world are the tourist locales where people write their names on a lock and then attach them to the nearby fence. It’s just such a sincere and universal expression of love! We are here and our bond is greater than its component parts; let the world bear witness to our love. It warms the deepest corners of my cold, gay heart 💙.

So you can bet that I took tons of photos of all these locks! I love them all, but here are my favorites: