Essays

Moseying: Locations of Interest

Buffalo Gap
November 27, 2002

Have you ever driven from Bronte to Fort Chadbourne to Buffalo Gap in November? The road runs along the Callahan Divide (also known as the Tonkawa Mountains), and the hills are full of Texas Red Oaks and Flame Leaf Sumacs that provide a wonderful array of fall color. It had been years since I had traveled the road – probably close to twenty years. Passage of that much time erases most of the memories, but enhances certain flitting moments of recognition by means of textures, colors, and intensities of light. At the sight of some huge amber and maroon Post Oaks just east of the entrance to Fort Chadbourne, I made Deborah stop the car. Post Oaks are not supposed to grow that far west, but here they were on the sandy soil east of Oak Creek. I would love to have a few of these stately specimens in our home landscape, but despite five minutes of looking we found no acorns. Nor did we spot any seedlings to be dug up early next spring.

As we searched I told Deborah of finding Tickle-Tongue the first time. If you handle the leaves of the pretty shrub its oils are transferred to your skin. Old-timers call it the Tooth-ache Tree and I have heard it called Poor Man’s Cocaine by long-haired folk musicians. On a day just like the one we were enjoying, ECISD horticulture teacher, Roy Phemister, and I had found the plant under a big post oak south of Clyde. After collecting a specimen for later identification our lips went numb. We nearly panicked thinking we had been poisoned and even talked of stopping at the Abilene hospital before we slowly regained normal sensation. Deborah and I have one little tickle-tongue at Gone Native and, sad to say, we occasionally offer a leaf to a visitor, just to watch their faces as the lack of sensation sets in.

At the encampment grounds in Buffalo Gap, giant live oaks filtered the soft, shimmering light of noontime. Deborah and I searched up one alley-way and down others, looking for the vendor we had come to visit. Blas Garcia exhibits at regional flea markets and community trade days. We first met him at the Old Sorehead Trade Days in Stanton. When we met up with him three weeks earlier at Post’s Old Mill Trade Days he told us his next gig would be at the Buffalo Gap flea market. I think he knew that Deborah really wanted a larger item than the one she had bought on that soggy, foggy day – something too big to carry through a quarter-mile of slushy parking lot mud. Blas’ rustic fence-wood cabinets, work tables, washbasin stands and other such varied constructions display a contemplative craftsmanship.

After taking a quick walk through the flea market grounds without success in locating Mr. Garcia, we stopped at an RV-turned-food booth and watched the marketgoers as we munched on our barbecue sandwiches. A very rotund part-Blue Heeler waddled up to me and sat down, respectfully waiting for a tidbit. I tried to ignore him, and after a few minutes told him he was out of luck. He immediately wandered back under the converted Winnebago.

Most folks at a flea market have a gait similar to that of the hound – take a few steps, look around, and take a few more steps, then stop and slowly survey the wares spread out on tables. Two young couples came by, and one of the young men stopped to check out a display of tools. His wife had hold of his hand, and she was busy talking with the other young lady and kept on walking. When he stopped it set up a chain reaction – the wife stopped short with her hand on their baby’s stroller. The stroller tilted backwards, the baby woke up and hollered, and then the wife hollered. The other gal stopped, and her husband turned to see what was happening and walked into a trash can.

After lunch we explored some more and found Mr. Garcia. After toting our purchase to the car, we went back to the booth of a fellow from Ballinger who was selling some wonderful stepping stones and benches. Concrete had been poured into molds created by an artist depicting bas relief hummingbirds and butterflies, as well as rural scenes of old houses and windmills. I had never seen such a thing and his prices were beyond reasonable, so we had to get several stepping stones and a bench.

Buffalo Gap is known as one of the prettiest villages in west Texas. After leaving the flea market we cruised the streets, admiring the white buffalo metal art on the light poles, the brightly colored shops, the architecture of the old houses, finally stopping at the Buffalo Gap Historical Village. If you have not been there, go.

The Village is operated by the Grady McWhiney Research Foundation, a consortium of activist historians that are cutting-edge leaders of the pack in the field of historical tourism. Abilene’s McMurry University utilizes their expertise and resources in their Public History program. The University’s on-line catalogue states, “Museums, historical societies, national parks, historic sites and tourism bureaus employ public historians to generate interest in a region’s cultural and physical heritage. It is one of the first programs of its type.”

The Village was founded by Dr. R. Lee Rode and his wife Ann. The Foundation took over in October of 1999. After walking among the 21 buildings filled with artifacts, I decided that Dr. Rode must have gone to every county historical museum in west Texas and hornswoggled the best of the best from each. Seventy-five percent of the collections were the most extensive I had ever seen – the most complete collections of early 20th century doctor’s equipment, barbershop equipment, the best-preserved 19th century log cabin and handmade tools, and so on. In the future, the Foundation hopes to have living-history docents filling the village. To this end, and to give college credits to students from McMurry, the college offers a course that results in participating in living-history events.

It only takes a little more than two hours to get to the Gap. A person could go over on the Interstate even quicker, but the route along the Callahan Divide invites meandering and detouring down country lanes, stopping and looking, and absorbing an area the local tourism bureau labels “The Texas that you expect.”