West Texas Boots

West Texas Boots tell a Story

The fastest way to drive from Atlanta to San Diego is to go through Texas and that is what we did. In this 2200-mile drive, almost 900 miles was in the State of Texas. 450 of those miles were in West Texas. The town of Odessa is the dividing line between East and West Texas. We passed thru Odessa at 80 miles an hour (the speed limit in that part of the State) around early afternoon with the objective of reaching the small West Texas town of Van Horn that night. I noticed one of the largest sunsets I have ever seen and it seemed to last for at least 3 hours as we proceeded west on interstate 20. The whole Western sky was crimson red and as the time ticked away its vastness also slowly diminished until the sun settled below the horizon. The West Texas countryside reminded me of the movie, “No Country for Old Men” and I expected to see

Sheriff Tommy Lee Jones appear in the endless sagebrush at any moment.

We holed up that evening in a hotel in Van Horn, Texas, which is close to the New Mexico border. The next morning I was sitting at the hotel breakfast area when the boots appeared. I looked over at the table next to me and saw two gentlemen talking earnestly to each other in perfect English. They were neatly dressed in casual business attire, but had on leather cowboy boots, which appeared to have just completed a long hike through some very rough terrain. They were scuffed up and well used. I was intrigued by this and further intrigued when they were joined by a third man who just drove up with a new ford 150 dual cab covered with dust from the local Guadalupe mountain range. Upon his arrival at their table, the two gentlemen immediately switched to what appeared to be perfect Spanish. Undoubtedly, this late arriving gentlemen only spoke Spanish. He also was well dressed and wore the same well-used leather cowboy boots. My imagination went rampant and I envisioned these gentlemen getting ready to go after big game in the neighboring valleys and hills, or were they planning their next drug movement across the nearby Mexican border or possibly were they planning their next illegal movement of people? Also, they could have been under-cover US border agents meeting an informant? Their attire did not stimulate these imaginary possibilities, but their scuffed up and well-worn boots more than stimulated these possible scenarios.

The jest of this story is that when you are road - weary your mind may wander and different scenarios may be dreamed up over different situations. I guess West Texas is for younger people, as a few years back I would have taken this experience in stride and never even dreamt of creating such scenarios. Furthermore, and more importantly, these boots that I would love to put myself into to solve this self-imposed mystery are neither too large nor too small for me. They are size “too young” and don’t fit me anymore. Ah, the pleasures of growing old.

Authors’ note: To release these imaginary images I had to reduce this experience to writing during our remaining trip to San Diego. Tonight, we are booked into a motel in Yuma, Arizona. Visions are already coming into my head of the “Last Train to Yuma”. Yuma where the infamous great Wild West Territorial prison existed in the 1800’s. Stay tuned for another possible story that this visit may stimulate. Get ready to hit the “delete key” as it may be coming your way.