Essays

Moseying: Locations of Interest

The breaks at the eastern edge of the Llano Estacado
February 19, 2003

When Deborah and I daytrip, we often have books about the region with us. Sometimes we carry reprints of early settlers’ recollections, such as “Life in the Saddle.” by Frank Collinson, or county historical collections such as “Wagon Wheels, a Garza County History.” Readers of this column have recommended others, and allowed us to xerox copies of rare privately printed volumes. Another book is “Caprock Canyonlands” by Dan Flores. Flores taught at Texas Tech throughout the 1980’s and into the 1990’s.

Flores is a revisionist historian. He reinterprets history, and his conclusions are often unsettling. When it was published in 1990, Caprock Canyonlands was regionally condemned as the product of a despicable New-age philosophy enthralled with a worshipful admiration of Native American philosophy with an anti-Anglo slant. He unabashedly trespassed over many of the ranches of the canyonlands, a contemptible behavior where private property rights are stoutly defended. Despite his radical point of view, however, a number of his theses are worthy.

Deborah and I follow the county maintained dirt roads of the caprock canyonlands to seek a “personal interface” with the landscape and its people. It is the only way available to explore the region intimately. We stop along the road, walk for a little ways, photographing the scenery, identifying the plants, birds, and other creatures. We constantly wish for permission to explore the lands of the ranches, especially when a beautiful cliffs and thick groves of trees along a running stream beckon and demand our attention.

Flores states, "The establishment of public parks and nature preserves is an expression of higher culture, on a par with the creation of great music, art, and literature." That is one statement with which many folks would agree, we believe. Caprock State Park and Palo Duro State Park is not enough. There should be more public land in west Texas. Some of it should be preserved in such fashion, while other lands should be made available for other activities. Many Llaneros can no longer afford the skyrocketing prices for deer and dove leases, for example. State Natural Areas, administered by the Texas Parks and Wildlife, exist in other parts of the state. Why are there no Natural Areas in the breaks?

Interlaced throughout Flores’ text in “Caprock Canyonlands” are apt ecological observations. The chapter entitled "Grassy Gorges of the Brazos" contains his version of the natural calendar. He chronicles the cycle of blooming wildflowers and the return or departure of a number of bird species. The book is full of his photographs that reflect his ability to detect the subtleties of the landscape. His text urges an emotional response to the bioregion.

Deborah and I have a special fondness for shadscale. On the blood red clays of the steep slopes of the breaks, a shining silver-leafed shrub forms mounds that glow in the low light of sunset. Deer browse it, so an ancient shrub is often only two feet tall, but the base of each shrub has contorted alabaster bark that equals the picturesque oriental art of the bonsai. It has become a symbol of the region for us.

Flores’ writings also reflect his historical research skills. He sprinkles the text with the ways Comanches, Hispanic pastores, and early settlers interacted with the land. He inserts little nuggets of information that bring to life past times of the “barrancas.” For example, he mentions the camp of Ysambanbi in 1808 in upper Yellowhouse Canyon, and how the people were decked out in three-corner hats, long red coats with blue collars and cuffs with white buttons, set off with red neckties. What a wonderful image, which brings a desire to know why that group of Comanches were so attired. Such stories are what inspire people to consider history an active pursuit.

Every spring equinox at Post, a group of townspeople set up teepees, build fires, and then greet the sun with a version of a Comanche ritual that predicts the weather for the following year. The group activity is a wonderful demonstration of the love Garza County citizens possess for their environs. The Garza County Historical Museum has a display devoted to Runkles and his preservation of the lore of the region.

Daytripping is a form of tourism unlike other traditional methods. Many folks make long journeys to visit the most glorious of the national parks. A tour through Europe has long been a “finishing school” endeavor for those able to afford a month or more of hotel bills, airline tickets, and cruise ship accommodations. Other folks pick out a legendary city, such as New Orleans, San Francisco, or Savannah, and spend a week absorbing the sights, culture, food, and forms of entertainment that give each city its uniqueness. Others go to Las Vegas, Branson, and other entertainment centers to see their favorite stars on stage.

Daytripping tourism gives depth to the definition of one’s own home region. Since beginning this column, I have found that many people are daytrippers. Some folks are specialists, and can give a report on the fishing of every lake within two hundred miles, for example. Others are able to rate antique stores, restaurants, speciality shops, flea markets and more. Oil field workers, social service workers, salespeople, and other folks employed in careers that require regional traveling have often given Deborah and I tips on interesting places. Quite a few people have shared family memoirs or helped to identify places with a story. I am deeply indebted to all those that have shared stories, recommended books, or said “you ought to write about --.” Thanks, you’all.