Looking Back III: Texafied

After work settled down, I settled in. I got a pickup, a shotgun and a dog. I got a woman, but she won't stay true. Cue the music...

From my first day there, Terlingua smelled like home. I expected to be there a while over the time to come, just not so much so soon. After guiding work dried up at the end of spring break, I found myself with little incentive to move on. The heat drove many away to northern climes, but for me it was deeply satisfying.

I found a truck for sale in town approximating what I'd planned to build up, only much further along. So I bought it, and started fixing it up. These plans stalled due to lack of tools, planning and knowhow. But getting things done isn't really living Terlingua style.

I met a woman, Fanny, whom I became interested in, and vice versa. Of course, this came with some entanglements, as she was the ex of one of my coworkers, Tex. Well, I talked with Tex about it, and he said it was done and over and to do what I would - go ahead. Of course, I did. And Fanny needed more closure with Tex and so on. So I stepped in a mess, as I'm wont to do. No one was hurt, and the road goes on.

I became good friends with some of the locals and a few of my fellow guides. Dan came by bored one day when we hadn't worked in a couple of days, and spotted Tinky Winky - a doll someone had left at the house I was staying. "Tinky Wink must die," he proclaimed. And so we took the doll out for target practice. We shot guns, played chess, and camped around the desert. Dan turned me on to new music and books, and I him. I got a shotgun and we finished off Tinky Winky, in a way that a 22 or 45 just can't do. The shotgun was my planned gift for myself at the end of my ride. I was planning to get it in Austin, but it seemed right in Terlingua. Besides, was I really going to ride to Austin at this point?

Over the first few days in Terlingua, I found myself in the best dog culture I'd encountered. Riding around for supplies, I had a pack of 3 dogs start chasing me. I dismounted, put the bike between us, and then saw the big dog smiles on all their faces. Instead of telling them to go, I yelled at them to get out of the road, and then let them all meet me. Going to the bar later, I found a place where people arrive with unleashed dogs. Silent glances cut across the room as dogs or owners share information. It was like an extra layer of intelligence and communication not found elsewhere.

There are dogs in Terlingua without owners - Brown Dog the quintessential example. He'll lead you through off trail desert paths, once he figures out the direction you're headed. He'll wait in people's cars as they're ready to leave the bar, hitching a ride to whereever he thinks food and rest will be best. Everyone in town knows Brown Dog, and respects him as a survivor. He showed me a thing or two, and linked me up to other groups of people walking out in the desert.

I'd long been thinking of getting a dog, a blue heeler especially. I want a friend that can keep up with my biking, something smart and not too crazy. A friend brought his bitch's litter to the bar - blue heeler australian shepherd mix. It would never be a good time to adopt, so there's no time like the present. So, I got Muki, born 02/05, an auspicious date. Muki got to spend some time with her mother and the runt of the litter, and much time with uncle Brown Dog. And now I won't be as alone on future travels.

I had to get down the road to meet my dad in Tennessee for fly fishing. This had been the plan since January, and I was loathe to miss it. So I got my truck as fixed up as I could, packed my shotgun and loaded Ziggy and Muki and drove out of Terlingua. How do I feel about driving at the end of my bike trip? Didn't I cheat? Wasn't the plan to ride my bike from Seattle to Austin?

Well, I didn't ride the whole way, now did I? I'd hitched rides and rented cars when I wanted along the way. I'm not a fundementalist, and accept changing situations with a smile on my face. I'm still travelling, now in Tennesee, tomorrow in Arkansas and so on. So I feel great, really, about getting here in time to spend a week with my dad on the river.

I did leave Muki behind with a friend in Texas, as weekdays alone in a garage seemed less puppy friendly than a couple of weeks with other dogs. I've got to socialize my baby even when I'm around. I've added a responsibility to my life, and Muki is really the only thing that generates stress for me. On the other hand, spending time with a puppy does so much to make me a child again - how much fun is that?