Travelogue, part 2 (or, “Thank God; it’s Texas!”)

So… as I’m finally starting to see the metaphoric light at the end of the tunnel (the rapidly approaching Texas border), I decide this is the time to check out the mysterious cassette tape I found in one of my bags as I was packing. As best as I can figure this (unlabeled) mix tape has been lurking, unseen and forgotten for 12-15 years. Popping it in I’m pleased with the sound quality and the tunes are an interesting window to my past. As I make my way to within 10 miles of Texas, a Stevie Ray Vaughan song comes on. I think to myself, “well, almost perfect timing, anyway…”, then another SRV tune blares forth, then another, and the next thing you know, I’m crossing into Texas, listening to some butt-kicking Texas blues-rock. Life is good and Oklahoma is in my rearview mirror.

I roll into Wichita Falls, Texas a short time later and stop for gas. Surveying the beverage selection in the cooler I decide I want something other than Coke. Hmmm… Dr. Pepper! I don’t know why, but that’s what I want. I pay the man and rocket back into the darkness. As I crack open my Dr. Pepper and take a sip I’m overwhelmed by a rush of memories. Childhood memories of being on roads just like this one, drinking Dr. Pepper, riding with Dad, heading out for a fishing trip. Just then, streaking across the sky, I see a shooting star leaving a shimmering, glittering trail of sparks in its wake. Welcome back to Texas, Greg. Welcome home son.

I had figured I’d be rolling into Abilene around dawn, but had neglected to take into account my westward direction, the Earth’s curvature and the inherent difference in the time of the sunrise. So, I go by Abilene and onto I-20 in the dark, heading West; the home-stretch, only a little over 2 hours to go! As you approach Sweetwater, Texas, there’s a bit of a rise that you crest, then Sweetwater is spread out before you. As I crest this hill, the sky is just starting to get some color and the twinkling lights of Sweetwater (My father’s boyhood home, his dear departed parents’ home, and a frequent fishing destination of ours in my youth) are like jewels on the horizon… a breathtaking tableau.

I roll into Midland (my birthplace and home through the 7th grade) around 9:30am EST,
just under 19 hours after departing Indianpolis, Indiana, some 1200 miles away. Not bad considering the wasted hour in “the bad place” (Oklahoma).

And that was my trip back home to see my Dad, stay tuned for the low-down on my trip back “home”, which more than likely will not include Oklahoma.