Road tripping, odd and ends

Space Trucking (yeah, well, get over it)

The bass line, Highway Star.

“All Aboard! Ha-ha-ha…

Ei, Ei, Ei!” (Crazy Train - again)
Indian Lodge:

It’s been, maybe three, five years? Maybe more? I can’t recall the last trip into this area. But from Midland, after working all day, I just pointed the motor home south towards Ft. Davis. Passed through Mason (formerly Ft. Mason), Ft. Stockton, and on into Ft. Davis. Hang left, up to Indian Lodge State Park, and the lodge itself. Why this hasn’t been discovered by hordes of eco-tourists, it escapes me. Might be because the place is owned and operated by the Texas Parks and Wildlife, i.e., a park ranger was the check-in clerk.

Indian Lodge interior
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“Free coffee, here in the office, from 5 to 7. After that, it’s the restaurant.”

Who, in their right mind, would be up at 5, on cold winter mornings in West Texas. Unless, of course, it involves a fishing pole or deer rifle. And I’m not big on the hunting; there’s no place to fish. I didn’t make it in for the free coffee, but I was up early due to eery silence. No cars. No cell service. No wireless. So cool.

library202.jpg
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Indian Lodge was built at the end of the Great Depression, in the late 1930’s, by the Civilian Conservation Corp. In the old section, only reason to stay here, the furniture is rustic, oftentimes made by hand, marked with the various symbols of the hand-made variety.

library206.jpg
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I’m not entirely clear on the whole story, but I don’t think that Indian Lodge has ever lapsed into disrepair. Therefore, it’s never been run down, the furniture sold off at auction, and then replaced with new stuff.

I once ran a trivia question, about the highest hotel in Texas. The Limpia Hotel makes that claim, although, I’d guess, Indian Lodge is really further up in the atmosphere by at least a couple of hundred feet. The wining entry wasn’t either one, but a carefully worded essay about certain bands at an Austin hotel.

The Limpia Hotel, named for Limpia Creek in Ft. Davis, wins the claim for marketing the expression. But Indian Lodge is still the coolest. The trick is, stay in the old section, Have to request it, too.

Marfa Lights:
I always vowed I would get photographic evidence. This is from the camera, the other night.

marfa lights
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marfa lights
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marfa lights
(Click on the picture to make it larger)

It was about thirty degrees, which isn’t that cold to some. But with a 60 mile an hour north wind? Yeah, too cold for me to hang around.

Laeti edimus qui nos subigant!
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About the author: Born and raised in a small town in East Texas, Kramer Wetzel spent years honing his craft in a trailer park in South Austin. He hates writing about himself in third person. More at KramerWetzel.com.

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