In Part 1, we began meandering through West Texas and left off in Davis Mountains State Park. On our last night at the park, we took an evening trip to the McDonald Observatory.
McDonald Observatory
Up the winding road of Mount Locke, at 6700 feet, the McDonald Observatory sits at one of the darkest places in the continental US and welcomes tens of thousands of visitors each year.
Every Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday, the McDonald Observatory, part of the University of Texas at Austin, holds a Star Party. On this Tuesday night in January, more than a hundred of us sat bundled in coats and blankets on the cold amphitheater benches and looked up. Our Star Host was both enthusiastic and dry, both excited about sharing his knowledge and concerned about the future of science. We were only introduced to him in the dark. I could see the silhouette of his hair and his tall build, and Kenny and I both wondered if our Star Host wasn’t P. Allen Smith.
He cast his green laser pointer skyward and taught us how to view the night sky. We found the North Star, a satellite, Gemini, the major and minor dippers, new stars, and old stars. On many nights thereafter, Kenny and I have continued to stand under the dark skies of New Mexico and Arizona and point out all the new clues and constellations: the square of stars leads to Polaris, Orion’s Belt to the nebula, the large drawn out “V” to the Andromeda Galaxy.
Every Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday, the McDonald Observatory, part of the University of Texas at Austin, holds a Star Party. On this Tuesday night in January, more than a hundred of us sat bundled in coats and blankets on the cold amphitheater benches and looked up. Our Star Host was both enthusiastic and dry, both excited about sharing his knowledge and concerned about the future of science. We were only introduced to him in the dark. I could see the silhouette of his hair and his tall build, and Kenny and I both wondered if our Star Host wasn’t P. Allen Smith.
He cast his green laser pointer skyward and taught us how to view the night sky. We found the North Star, a satellite, Gemini, the major and minor dippers, new stars, and old stars. On many nights thereafter, Kenny and I have continued to stand under the dark skies of New Mexico and Arizona and point out all the new clues and constellations: the square of stars leads to Polaris, Orion’s Belt to the nebula, the large drawn out “V” to the Andromeda Galaxy.
When our Star Host finished his introduction to the cosmos, we were invited to explore half a dozen telescopes in the Rebecca Gale Telescope Park. We looked into a crater on the moon. Then, the Orion Nebula. Then, into the Andromeda Galaxy from inside our own galaxy. I thought about my college astronomy class and how little I learned from a textbook and a PowerPoint in a lecture hall at 8:00 am, and how much more interested I would have been if I’d been able to just look at the sky.
And, while the facility is a fun place for amateur stargazers, high on the surrounding peaks sit some of the world’s largest telescopes that researchers use to teach us about our place in the universe. Also, fun fact: if you listen to the syndicated radio program StarDate, that program is brought to you by the McDonald Observatory!
And, while the facility is a fun place for amateur stargazers, high on the surrounding peaks sit some of the world’s largest telescopes that researchers use to teach us about our place in the universe. Also, fun fact: if you listen to the syndicated radio program StarDate, that program is brought to you by the McDonald Observatory!
Marfa, Texas
Thanks to a friend setting us up with a friend, we were pointed 21 miles south on Highway 17 to Marfa. You’ve either been dying to go to Marfa or never heard of it. We were in the latter party, but were intrigued and so, so close. Quick note: most of the town is only open Wednesday/Thursday-Sunday, so if you want to explore, don’t go vacationing Monday-Wednesday like a dope. We came to town on a Wednesday, but it suited us so we could walk around and window shop with Annie.
Established in 1883 as a water stop for the railway, the town of Marfa was revitalized in the 1970s when sculptor Donald Judd bought a bunch of land and sprouted an art community. Today, Marfa is still a tiny town of around 2,000 residents, but has a booming art tourism industry where people travel from all over the world for the galleries, retreats, and shows. The inside scoop is Marfa is experiencing a rental shortage because investors are buying homes and turning them into Airbnbs to rent out to tourists.
Established in 1883 as a water stop for the railway, the town of Marfa was revitalized in the 1970s when sculptor Donald Judd bought a bunch of land and sprouted an art community. Today, Marfa is still a tiny town of around 2,000 residents, but has a booming art tourism industry where people travel from all over the world for the galleries, retreats, and shows. The inside scoop is Marfa is experiencing a rental shortage because investors are buying homes and turning them into Airbnbs to rent out to tourists.
The secluded town feels like Old West meets Wes Anderson meets Colorado mountain town meets Urban Outfitters. The Pepto-Bismol pink courthouse looms over main street’s boutiques and historic hotels. Down the residential streets, new minimalist concrete homes fenced by corrugated metal that look like they came off the cover of Dwell are built next to a run-down house with a falling-in roof. And on every third or fourth corner of the main drag, a food truck. And farther down the highway, away from the luxury goods, is the Anglo cemetery. And next to that, separated by a fence, the historic segregated Hispanic cemeteries where gravestones are made from planks of wood, PVC pipe, and cement.
We’d also had our eye on the big white fish in the sky. It could have been 15 miles or 115 miles away - it’s hard to tell in the desert. We drove off in its direction until we could get a good view through our binoculars. It turned out not to be art, or a fish for that matter, but a Tethered Aerostat Radar System (TARS) balloon used for border control.
Maybe the vibe is more modern colonialism meets cultural appropriation meets hipster chic meets what the fuck is up with America: 2017 and how am I supposed to feel about it.
That night, we camped in the El Cosmico parking lot, which is not an RV park, but an RV/van/camper friendly, you know… parking lot. Inside the fence of El Cosmico is a much more elegant camping operation. In one corner of the well manicured desert floor, scout tents and yurts stand beneath three teepees. Down the walking path are almost a dozen retro trailers, from short Shastas to the Imperial Mansion. At the main office, cozy chairs sit draped in serapes in front of a fireplace. In the shop, finely curated items line a long table in twos and threes or heaping bowls. Against the walls are posters from past shows, robes, leather sandals, El Cosmico scent that Kenny sprayed himself with and followed us for days.
Maybe the vibe is more modern colonialism meets cultural appropriation meets hipster chic meets what the fuck is up with America: 2017 and how am I supposed to feel about it.
That night, we camped in the El Cosmico parking lot, which is not an RV park, but an RV/van/camper friendly, you know… parking lot. Inside the fence of El Cosmico is a much more elegant camping operation. In one corner of the well manicured desert floor, scout tents and yurts stand beneath three teepees. Down the walking path are almost a dozen retro trailers, from short Shastas to the Imperial Mansion. At the main office, cozy chairs sit draped in serapes in front of a fireplace. In the shop, finely curated items line a long table in twos and threes or heaping bowls. Against the walls are posters from past shows, robes, leather sandals, El Cosmico scent that Kenny sprayed himself with and followed us for days.
We were told to park anywhere we like in the parking lot. When we got there, there was a Westfalia parked off in the dirt lot, so we gave them some room and parked in the gravel lot closer to the front entrance, pulling in along the fence so we didn’t have to back in. A touring cyclist came over and asked if he could take a look around our rig. He was a young veteran who was making his way from the East Coast to his parents’ house in Oregon. He was camped out in a makeshift tent village of more than a dozen other cyclists who had been playing leap frog down southern highways for the last month. Then, another guy came over who wanted to know about our Casita. He was from Texas and rented one of the large trailers for the night. He whispered that his girlfriend, who was visiting from Manhattan and walking toward us in her high-heeled boots, wasn’t impressed by the rugged amenities, but he didn’t care. “I’ve been wanting to come here for 10 years!”
Later, we left our trailer in the parking lot and met up with Katy at the local’s bar and shot a few games of pool. We sat with the girl we bought a Marfa Public Radio sticker from that afternoon. And then met the guy who made us lunch at Food Shark. Then met the guy who we saw checking out our van earlier. It’s a small town.
We ended up staying at our hosts’ house like a couple of twenty-year-olds and got back to the trailer in the morning. Where it was completely blocked in by a line of cars. We do stupid stuff all the time and are constantly on a learning curve, so that day we learned two things about parking “anywhere”: 1) park with the other RVs/vans and 2) always back in so you can drive out. But, we had our house with us, so we made some coffee and breakfast burritos and waited a couple hours for the line of cars to pull out.
Later, we left our trailer in the parking lot and met up with Katy at the local’s bar and shot a few games of pool. We sat with the girl we bought a Marfa Public Radio sticker from that afternoon. And then met the guy who made us lunch at Food Shark. Then met the guy who we saw checking out our van earlier. It’s a small town.
We ended up staying at our hosts’ house like a couple of twenty-year-olds and got back to the trailer in the morning. Where it was completely blocked in by a line of cars. We do stupid stuff all the time and are constantly on a learning curve, so that day we learned two things about parking “anywhere”: 1) park with the other RVs/vans and 2) always back in so you can drive out. But, we had our house with us, so we made some coffee and breakfast burritos and waited a couple hours for the line of cars to pull out.
On our way toward Guadalupe Mountains National Park, outside of Marfa and in Valentine, I drove pass the Prada installation. I turned around because you never know if or when you’ll be near Marfa again. The installation, a Prada storefront with shoes and handbags in the middle of the desert, was finished in 2005. The entrance is sealed and there will be no upkeep on the building. And one day the building will crumble, the designer items will be looted, and there will be an outline of a foundation where a building once stood, just like the remnants of the Old West.
Guadalupe Mountains National Park
That afternoon, we made it to Guadalupe Mountains National Park and spent the night at another parking lot with a great view. For $8/night, the RV sites have no hookups, but there is a dishwashing sink and flush toilets nearby.
Because it’s a national park, dogs aren’t allowed on the trails, only on paved roads or the short trails near the visitor’s center. So I just got to look longingly at the high peaks and read the park’s brochure about all the trails that I was missing out on.
The next morning, the park ranger came over to talk vans. Then we got on places in Western Colorado and where we’re headed next. He commented, “You guys are living the dream. It’s not about what you do, but where you are.”
And off we went toward El Paso, where Kenny, who had been singing some mashup of El Paso and the Streets of Laredo through all of Texas, continued to belt his little heart out.
The next morning, the park ranger came over to talk vans. Then we got on places in Western Colorado and where we’re headed next. He commented, “You guys are living the dream. It’s not about what you do, but where you are.”
And off we went toward El Paso, where Kenny, who had been singing some mashup of El Paso and the Streets of Laredo through all of Texas, continued to belt his little heart out.