This is primarily a travel blog in which I write about traveling in our motorhome. Our travels have

Nacogdoches, TX, United States
I began this blog as a vehicle for reporting on a 47-day trip made by my wife and me in our motorhome down to the Yucatan Peninsula and back. I continued writing about our post-Yucatan travels and gradually began including non-travel related topics. I often rant about things that piss me off, such as gun violence, fracking, healthcare, education, and anything else that pushes my button. I have a photography gallery on my Smugmug site (http://rbmartiniv.smugmug.com).
Showing posts with label van horn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label van horn. Show all posts

Friday, February 12, 2016

West of the Pecos

We left Abilene this morning, drove about 350 more miles and arrived at the RV park in Van Horn, TX about 4:45 PM today. We have traveled a total of 733 miles, are still in Texas, and still have another 120 miles to go in Texas. Once we cross into New Mexico we will be a little over half-way to our destination in Newport Beach, CA.

After Abilene, the next most populous area are the twin cities of Midland and Odessa. Nobody would live there if it weren’t for the oil and gas industry. You begin seeing oil- and gas-related businesses along both sides of the interstate a few miles before reaching Midland, then for the entire twenty miles between Midland and Odessa, and for a couple of miles after Odessa. Wall to wall energy businesses and lots of heavy oil field equipment. Everywhere you look are oil wells. The well pumps look like large prehistoric birds with their heads bobbing up and down. You will only see an oil derrick while a well is being drilled. Once drilled, the derrick is replaced by the bobbing bird heads.

Van Horn is in far West Texas. West of the Pecos. It’s Cowboy and Indian country. Desolate, flat, arid, dusty, and barren. Lots of cacti, mesquite brush, rabbits, and tumble weeds. Once west of Ft. Stockton you should be very careful when passing up the opportunity for fuel. Services are few and far between. Also, once west of Ft. Stockton the speed limit increases to 80 miles per hour, which make you feel somewhat obligated to hurry across this nothingness. The interstate is almost arrow-straight and as you approach one of the few curves you will see signs warning you to slow down to 70 mph. Traffic today was light and comprised of almost all 18-wheelers, which makes you wonder if you should even be out here.

It is impossible to get over-the-air TV broadcasts. The stations are too far away. If you watch TV, you must have cable or satellite. Same with radio stations. Bring your own music or listen to satellite radio unless you enjoy Mexican radio broadcasts.

Our destination tomorrow is Tucson, AZ. The second half of the trip will be through New Mexico, Arizona, Nevada, before reaching California.

Here are a few iPhone photos I took after arrival in Van Horn.

The Davis Mountains

Our motorhome and "toad"

Walking stick cactus

Tumble weeds against fence

Thursday, February 11, 2016

Waltzing Across Texas

We got on the highway yesterday at 3:30 PM. Late, as usual, and not without several problems, as usual. Most were minor but their cumulative effect was extremely frustrating. First, there was the 15-minute job of installing the tire pressure monitoring system. I spent at least two hours on it and to put off finishing the job until tonight.

I also needed LP gas. I drove the motorhome across town for the LP gas and discovered that only cash or check was accepted as payment. However, the attendant said he would fill the tank, give me the ticket, and I could drive to their office and pay with a credit card. Just one of the nice things about small towns. The directions he gave me were to continue south on the divided highway and cut across to the northbound side when I saw the Trade Days on the left. Then I was to drive northbound and turn into the Econo Lodge (on the right) and drive around the motel to the gas company office. Simple enough. After the tank was filled I drove south until I saw the Trade Days and turned at the cross-over and headed back north. I saw the Econo Lodge coming up, turned into the parking lot, and continued towards the back to drive around the motel. Only I couldn’t drive around the motel. The parking lot ended behind the motel. Fortunately, there was room to turn around. I drove back to the front of the motel, stopped, and looked for any hint of a gas company. Seeing nothing, I shut down the motorhome and began walking to the motel office to ask where the gas company was. Before I made it to the front door I met a man walking towards me. He was coming to tell me that my TV antenna was up on the motorhome. That usually results in it getting knocked off, but apparently I had beaten the odds this time. When I asked him about the gas company he said he thought it was next door. The only building next door was, if the sign was to be believed, a realtor’s office. To make a long story short, it was also the office for the gas company and after several attempts at her computer, the secretary was able to charge my credit card for the purchase. I returned to the motorhome and remembered to lower the TV antenna.

Once back home, I realized that the fresh water tank was empty. I connected a hose and began filling it. Do you know how long it takes to fill a one-hundred-gallon tank with a garden hose? Well, water flows out of our tap at about four gallons per minute, if that fast. I stopped it at about 65 gallons. I could finish filling it down the road.

The next task was to hook the car to the tow bar behind the motorhome. This was a new system and I had trouble with what went where and how it went, so it took much longer than expected. Then we packed everything that had not yet put into the motorhome into the car. We would sort it out later.

Finally, at 3:30 we were ready to leave and headed to our first stop, only ninety miles away at the Cracker Barrel Restaurant on I-20 near Tyler, TX. They allowed overnight parking in their back parking lot (Carol Ann had called them to make sure). Half-way there, Carol Ann shouts, “Oh, shit!” and I immediately started looking for what was about to hit us. “I forgot my purse” she said. It shouldn’t have been that big of a problem because we both have the same credit cards and she never drives the motorhome, so her driver’s license wasn’t necessary. The problem was that she had all of our cash in her purse. I had absolutely no money in my wallet. Still, we decided not to turn around. She would have her sister Fed Ex the purse to our son’s apartment in California, our destination. People ship diamonds with FedEx, so why not her purse? We could drive 1,600 miles without any money. Everyone takes credit cards. We hope.

We left the Cracker Barrel this morning at 9:30, pulled into a rest area around 11:30 for lunch, and stopped for fuel around 1:30 this afternoon. Our previous motorhome was a diesel model and our new motorhome is a gasoline model. With the diesel, I usually looked for a truck stop, pulled in with the 18-wheelers, and filled up with diesel. Truck pumps are much faster that the gas pumps around in front. There is also a lot more room to maneuver around the diesel pumps. The diesel motorhome had fuel tank doors on both sides of the coach so it didn't matter what side the pump was on. Now I have to find a gas station that has enough room for my thirty-eight-foot motorhome with car in tow. It’s not always easy. It also has only one fuel door so the pump has to be on the driver's side. Today we pulled into a station that looked like we could use either of the pumps on the outside of the island. I made a big circle around all of the pumps so that I would be facing out towards the highway when I pulled up to the pump. I stopped and Carol Ann got out to see if the hose would reach. It wouldn’t. I made another circle around the pumps, you can’t put a motorhome into reverse when towing a car. This time around I managed to pull up a little closer to the pump. Carol Ann got out and gave me the okay. The gas gauge was down to one-quarter of a tank so I should be able to pump about sixty gallons before it was full. We would still be there if I had waited for the tank to fill. The pump was so pressure-sensitive that it quickly shut off every time Carol Ann or I squeezed the handle (we traded turns). It made no difference how you situated the nozzle or how slowly you squeezed. It was squeeze, off, squeeze, off, squeeze, off. We managed to get 27 gallons before our hands got tired and we quit. We wanted to reach Abilene before dark and we had enough fuel to get us there.

We pulled into an RV park in Abilene a little after 4:00 PM. Good Sam rates this RV park as the best in Abilene. Well, all I can say is, I’m very glad we aren’t staying at one of the others. The sign on the door said the office closed early today and would reopen at 8:30 AM. It listed the site numbers that were available. Just take your pick and pay them in the morning. We chose a site and parked the motorhome. The park is supposed to have good (and free) wi-fi, but it requires a password. I called the phone number listed for the park, hoping to get a password, but all I got was a recorded message. I’m posting this using my cellular data plan. Tomorrow we drive to Van Horn, another 350 miles and still in Texas. I hope I can get there without having to stop for gas more than two or three times.

Friday, October 19, 2012

On The Banks of The Rio Frio


We said goodbye to Van Horn, TX at 9:15 AM yesterday (Thursday) and after 389 miles (all but last 60 miles on I-10) pulled into Parkview Riverside RV Park at 3:45 PM.  We were only about 5 or 10 minutes behind the members of our RV club who had left Alpine, TX that same morning and with whom we will be going to Mission, TX on Sunday.  Everyone was tired so we all just crashed in our coaches last night. 

The RV park is located in the Texas Hill Country and is on a bluff overlooking the Rio Frio (Spanish for “Cold River”).  This morning I walked down to the banks of the Frio for a look around and to take some photos.  The river was very still, hardly a ripple, and the blue water was crystal clear.  The morning sun was low and behind me, casting its light on the opposite bank and providing some really great lighting for photos.  Large oak trees, mirrored in the calm water, hung over the banks of the river.  Rope swings hung from branches of several trees and the clay banks near these ropes were worn smooth from the many people who have used the bank to launch themselves out over the river and drop into the cold water.

This afternoon we drove to the nearby small (very) town of Leaky (pronounced as “Lakey”) to buy a few groceries at the Mercantile & Grocery Store.  It was located next door to the open air “Hog Pen” BBQ establishment (bikers welcomed).  On the way back to the RV park we stopped to take some pictures of the Frio from the bridge.

Tonight our small group will get together for a cook out and potluck supper, preceded by Happy Hour, of course.

Life is good.