I started before dawn the first day, a time of day that I do not often see anymore. Everyone else was headed to work, certainly, but my hatchback was pointed much farther, hoping to get to Wichita by sundown.
It seemed like a perfect day to drive: overcast with dry roads for winter. But hitting the Iowa-Missouri line, it began to rain, freezing rain, hard and fast. As a travelled south, it warmed up slightly but rained harder. I paid close attention, and kept my hands at 10 and 2.
Perhaps that is why, when the rain stopped just south of Topeka, the land gave me a shock. Although I was white-knuckling it, the landscape before seemed much the same as the rest of the midwest- mostly flat cropland with the occasional riverbed, interspersed with deciduous trees. Thus the shock when it seemed like I passed over a hill onto another planet. Rolling, reddish brown hills with only the occasional stunted tree, windmill, or oil rig. In fact, for a minute it frightened me--knowing how far away I was from home, and how alien it seemed. The Wizard of Oz "Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore," came to mind, although, of course, I was in Kansas.
I stopped in a town called Pratt, a little over an hour past Wichita. By then, it had grown dark, and I walked weary into the Holiday Inn, checking myself in and then heading out to a pub for dinner. The waitress asked me what I wanted to drink. "Gin and tonic," I said. She looked at me bewildered and asked what was in it. I looked back at her, equally bewildered.
The next morning I set out a bit later. The sun was up and the sky was huge. I traveled through a number of dusty towns that looked all but abandoned. A field stone school with the roof collapsed, motels boarded up, the windows of restaurants shattered. I thought this would just be in Kansas, but this theme continued into Oklahoma, Texas, and especially New Mexico.
I did see some curious things though. A long fence line of wind art made out of street signs in Kansas. A town called Hooker- complete with places called things like "Hooker Motel". A 50's look silver Route 66 sign about the size of me. A good amount of birds for winter- including northern harriers, red-tailed hawks, a rough-legged hawk, meadowlarks, Chihuahuan ravens, and kestrels.
At one point in Oklahoma, I noticed an area coming up in the vast ranch land that looked mottled black and industrialized. At first I thought it was a dump because of the gulls diving in and amongst it, but as I got closer I realized it was cattle. Cattle as far as the eye could see- much closer together than the cattle I'd see out on the ranches up until then. I realized that this was a feedlot, something I'd heard of but not seen. I felt a little dumb for thinking it was a dump.
As I got into New Mexico, I started noticing off in the distance shadowy landforms- I think mesas. They got closer, and then closer together. It was rugged beauty, and the towns were even farther apart than they had been in Kansas or Oklahoma. Inexplicably, there would be speed limit reductions along long stretches of highway. Then, after about a mile, you'd speed back up. I never figured out quite what the rhyme or reason behind the changes was.
Towards dark, I passed through the Sierra Blanca and the Mescalero reservation. I learned that Sierra Blanco is a volcanic mountain range that began activity about 38 millions years ago and remained active for 12 million years. Some parts of the mountains looked like someone had put a thumb print impression in the side. They lit up with a soft alpenglow as the sun set.
Another hour or so down the road I began to see the lights of El Paso. The landscape had gotten incredibly flat, and it was hard to get a sense for the size of the city. But as I turned a corner, I noticed something even better than the lights of my final destination: the moon. Nearly full, and recently risen in the east. It seemed larger here than I had seen it before, without buildings or trees or hills in the way. Just creamy and glowing, I could see the deep valleys carved into the moon like the valleys I had just driven through.
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