In the Really Slow Lane
Laredo is the 2nd biggest city along the Rio Grande (population 236,091, bigger than Brownsville). It was the capital of the Republic of Rio Grande, which may be the shortest lived country in history, only 283 days. While Texas claims 'Six Flags over Texas', Laredo proudly claims Seven Flags over Texas. The Republic of the Rio Grande did not want to be subject to Mexico or to the newly-formed Republic of Texas. Mexican General Santa Anna ended that idea of independence.
Laredo is about the least diverse city in the US (excluding Puerto Rico), over 95% Hispanic. The "old" part of town, immediately adjacent to the international crossing, was sad - block after block of mostly empty buildings, almost a ghost town. Buildings seemed to be built around 1900. Did not look like a slum, no boarded up or broken windows, trash, no visible addicts or homeless, just mostly empty.
Other parts of the city were busy and more modern. We shopped at nice HEB Plus, Walmart, etc., since this was the last big town for a few weeks.
We left Laredo (and the last Supercharger) a few days ago. We now go from campground to campground for charging: Uvalde, Comstock, Marathon, then Big Bend. Maximum distance between campgrounds is 150 miles.
Trivial Accomplishment: We've driven from Marathon FL to Marathon TX. Google Maps says it takes 29 hours. We took 60 days.
Uvalde, the biggest town in these parts (population 15,751), has a "famous" Rexall pharmacy - the only soda fountain between between El Paso and San Antonio - opened in 1877.
We get to Comstock, population 475, one of the strangest campgrounds we've visited. We made a stop at the Historical Marker.
We got to our campground, which looked like a movie set for something weird. A drug deal? A mass murder? Lovers reunite surreptitiously? UFOs landing? Someone from NYC falls in love with the girl and decides never to go back? Maybe all of the above, in the same movie?
Totally "self- serve"; a sign on the "office/clubhouse" said please deposit money in the box. A few Popular Mechanics magazines from year 2000 were on the table; the couch was even older. The freezer was full of ice, "Please take ice and put $2 in box".
On old windmill water pump clanged away in back. Most (all?) campgrounds have toilets, and most have showers. This one just had a dessicated porta-potty. (Don't ask.)
Office/clubhouse - note the outhouse and derelict birdhouse
This turned out to be one our best stops. Seminole Canyon State Park & Historic Site is just down the road. The People Without A Name lived here many thousands of years ago. Remember I mentioned them in the Witte Museum in San Antonio?
The volunteer guide took a group of six down into the canyon to see some of their artwork in the shelters. Nobody is allowed into the canyon without a guide, to keep out vandals.
The work crews building the Southern Pacific Railroad camped near here for many months in 1882, and remains of an early roadbed are still visible. "ELindfield" was a supervisor, as was "Maynard". The" VV73" is "graffiti" from the University of Texas Archaeology Department in the 1930s, marking the Elindfield graffiti as historical. Standards change.
Fascinating visit and beautiful hikes around the canyon rims. Recommended. We also learned we could have camped in the park itself for the same price ($20), and would have had much nicer amenities and views. Live and learn.
I double checked if we would have enough energy to make it to Marathon. With the freezing weather (cold air has more resistance) and few thousand feet of elevation gain, oops, looks like it will be very close.
So instead of "roaring out" at 55 mph, we leisurely amble along at 35 mph, flashers blinking. The highway is two lanes, lots of passing lanes, and a speed limit of 75 mph. This is a lesser traveled highway, a vehicle might pass every five or ten minutes, so driving so slow wasn't risky. After three hours (100 miles), the energy meter is saying it's getting verrry, verrry close to not making the trip. (The car has already reminded us several times there are no Superchargers in this direction, are we sure we want to continue?)
So we stop at the non-booming town of Sanderson (population 837), which has a RV park. Or is it a sculpture garden? All sorts of dinos and antique farm implements, plus a clean working bathroom with running water.
Nobody to take our money there, another self serve, but much nicer than Comstock. We were just going to charge for an hour or two, no price listed for that. I figured we consumed $1.47 of power, so we left $10 in the envelope.
All of the campgrounds this week are within 100 yards of the Southern Pacific Railway and the highway. The towns are strung along right on the road and train right of way.
Trains rumble by every few hours, at least 100 cars with four or five locomotives. The clickety-clack of a slow freight train is somehow comforting, not like the screeching and braking of a NYC subway.
While I may be doing the long, slow drives, Barbara is crafty.
From Julie: Fascinating account, thank you. So much history we weren’t taught!
ReplyDeleteSounds fun. Love reading about your leisurely travels.
ReplyDeleteLove hearing the narrative and seeing the various stops along the way!
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