butcher shops specializin’ in
dressin’ deer and makin’ cam-
ouflage deer sausage.
Afternoon Coffee Time
when we get to Rocksprings.
Angora goats feed like deer so
there are bunches of both in
and near Rocksprings. Found
only one open coffee shop and
went in ordering pie and a cup
of joe. Plenty of pie but no joe.
The ol’ boy says if we ain’t in a
hurry, he’ll make some. The
only time anybody was ever in
a hurry in Rocksprings was
when Rancher Jake was late for
the kick-off at an Angoras’
football game. We sit down at
the smaller of the two tables
and pass the time reading signs
on the wall. Brother John finds
the Angora Football Team
Game Schedule poster on the
wall. Headline on the schedule
was “HIGH EXPECTA-
TIONS…GO ANGORAS…
NO EXCUSES.” But that’s
OK because those ol’ kids will
have plenty chances to fail as
time goes by…
Then on down to Del Rio,
Hwy. 90 and an Amistad Lake
campground. Cold, windy
night.
Before they “damned” the
Devils River, Vernon and me
camped and fished on the
banks of what was then the
prettiest West Texas river ever.
Now it’s under water for the
most part where we waded and
fried our catch and slept on the
ground. But before, it was the
country where “Zapata” was
filmed with Brando and Quinn
and before that the Goat Gland
Doctor lived in Del Rio and
broadcast literally to the world
from Acuña on the Méjico side
of the Rio Grande. Some of No
Country for Old Men looked like it
was filmed downtown but not
the part with Tommy Lee.
For the time being, Del Rio
is a Border Patrol town. They
check you out coming and
going at little roadside outposts
where they have drug dogs,
guns and a coffee pot. They
make sure no terrorist, smug-
gler or folk wanting to work
breach the frontier before the
Wall is completed. The agents
look like they are about 12
years old packing cap pistols.
They are all colors and gen-
ders. They say, in low tones,
“Where ya coming from?
Where ya going?’ Are ya a U.S.
citizen? Have nice day!” Like
ol’ Dangerfield, they don’t get
no respect.
Next morning we found Jim
and Holly’s beer joint, pool hall
and café open in Comstock.
They were both there when we
went in so we all said our
mornin’s and so forth and
Holly asked what was y’all
needin’ and Brother Bill said
coffee. Holly said the pot is
right there he’p yo’self.
After awhile Holly asked if
we needed breakfast. Well, we
did, and she sat us down at a
kitchen table and served up the
usual to me. Brother John got
his with chorizo, a Mexican
thing that I talked him into. It
was Jim that told him what it
was made of…pig lips and ears.
Brother John said later he was
glad to have eaten the stuff but
that once was enough since it
took several days to get past it.
We chatted with Jim since
Holly fixed his breakfast as well
and sat him down at the table
with us. We speculated on
where all the horny toads and
javelinas had gotten off to.
Consensus was poison (acid
rain, lead and so on) and a cold
spell that froze the baby pigs.
Jim said a lot of cross-country
bicyclers came by looking pret-
ty wore out and causing pickup
truck drivers to get put out
’cause the bicycles tended to
hog the road, especially when
pedaling in packs. Then we
said our so longs and so forth
and headed on to Marathon…
Gateway to the Big Bend
Nation al Park.
By this time the lies were
coming back to me. Shared a
few with Brother John such as
stacking four truck inner tubes
on top of a red VW Beetle and
leaving Alpine…looked like big
ol’ licorice doughnuts tied to
the roof…and getting to
Lajitas, lashing ’em up like a
flat diamond and then floating
down the Rio Grande through
Santa Elena Canyon.
We had a choice of two fill-
ing stations in Marathon, and
both were in spitting distance of
each other. I choose the one
with the three hands sitting on
the stoop out front. Pulled up to
the pump, got out and one of
the hands said, “No gas. Don’t
work.” I was glad they didn’t
have to get up. Went next door
and filled up.
Drove on up to the Basin
Campground and pitched the
tent. I used to guide trail rides
out of the Basin to the South
Rim and to the Window, so I
spent some time just looking to
see if I could see any changes
…and there was one. Our cor-
ral and bunk house/kitchen/tack
room was gone. No trace.
Those times erased from the
face of the Chisos. Told
Brother John the lie about the
time Shorty bucked me off in
the middle of a bunch of dudes
and made me famous.
We found the javelinas that
Comstock Jim speculated had
all been killed off. They were
rooting around the camp-
ground oblivious to the tourists.
Fat little fellers, and they cared
not the least when people in
short pants took javelina digital
pictures. Suppose the next time
anyone sees a horny toad, it will
be a fossil.
Next to our tent was a big
“bear box” made out of iron
with a door latch that even
beings with opposing thumbs
found difficult to open. The
sign said to put all your stuff
and groceries in the box so
bears would not come around
and eat you up in a feeding
frenzy. Brother John slept in the
tent. I slept in the car on
account of the night was cold –
and it was sort of bear proof.
Up before daylight and after
Brother John showed me how
to pack my pack for easy back-
packing, we hiked to the South
Rim trailhead. The sign said
watch out for bears and pan-
thers…as in big ol’ socially
challenged mountain lions that
enjoyed a hiker from time to
time. Sign said if one or both of
them were to get after you, you
were supposed to appear big
and act like an idjit waving your
arms and praying by shouting.
This would cause the critters to
run over each other getting
away. But if they don’t, you
need to fight back…as long as
you can. Otherwise, you are
supposed to report the en -
counter to a ranger who will
mention it that night at the
campfire talk. Also don’t let
your children out of your sight
for even a minute. Kinda like
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continued on page 26
Cenizo
Fourth Quarter 2010
19