20th May – Texas! – Roswell to Lubbock

It was another hot and sunny morning as we set off to realise one of the objectives of our trip – Lubbock in Texas!

Heading east on Highway 380, the first ninety miles or so were across the high desert that reminded us somewhat of the North York Moors. We stopped for fuel in a small town called Tatum which seemed to be little more than a gas station and some deserted buildings. The journey was through ranch country where cattle rearing seemed to be the main industry. There is also a lot of small-scale oil production with “nodding donkey” oil pumps and small storage tanks dotting an otherwise flat and featureless landscape. There was something rather sinister about the nodding donkeys, which resembled large predatory, primeval birds (or at least they did to me – I must have been on the road too long). Despite the apparently vast size of the ranches the domestic buildings seemed quite small which is probably a reflection of the low productivity per acre.

After about 90 miles we saw a small sign signifying the Texas border so we pulled up and engaged in a photofest. We then became embroiled in a orgy of politeness about who would have the honour of crossing the border first. “Go on old chap, it was your idea.” “No no, I insist you must go first.” Anyway eventually we got across and like Hillary and Tensing we have agreed never to divulge which of us was first. (but I can say that I was the last to leave New Mexico).

It was surprising how much the landscape began to change after we crossed the border. The towns looked more established and prosperous, there was more evidence of irrigation and agriculture and Baptist churches started to spring up everywhere.

After another 80 miles or so we arrived in Lubbock, the home of Buddy Holly and probably the furthest point east that we will go. We booked into the Holiday Inn along with large numbers of proud parents here for their children’s college graduation day.

We then embarked on the customary “let’s find a bar and somewhere to eat” odyssey. Many of the towns we have stopped in are laid out in a widely spread grid pattern with no discernible centre. Lubbock was no exception. Residential, business and social areas seemed to be mixed up at random. We set off walking in what we thought might take us to the central area but soon found that we were more likely to get a tattoo than a drink in the areas we passed through. At one point we thought we saw a bar called “Freedom” but it turned out to be the offices of a bail bondsman!

Eventually Mark decided to ask directions from the only other pedestrian we had seen on our travels. He couldn’t have been more helpful and not only gave us directions but even decided to accompany us and entertained us with a vibrant conversation which seemed to involve Greyhound buses, cigarettes and his need for a drink. It was at that point that we decided we might be better off left to our own devices and swiftly reversed course with him still following us offering further advice. As luck would have it we then found ourselves approaching the police headquarters which caused our erstwhile companion to take a sharp left while we went on to seek directions from two heavily armed plain-clothed cops who had popped outside for a quick smoke. They pointed us in the right direction and we soon found the Tripple J, a micro-brewery and steak house, which satisfied our every need.

We walked back to the hotel from the bar. The wide streets were almost completely deserted (with the exception of a man pushing a shopping trolley full of scrap metal). It is really hard to get used to the way that an auto repair shop, someone’s home, a popular bar and a derelict building can all occupy the same city block and there seems to be an absence of a “town centre” as we would understand it although the “Depot (pron “deepoe”) District” does seem to be the home of the resaurants and bars. I assume it is named for the Greyhound Bus Depot

We’re now back in the hotel planning the next stages of our journey. We picked up another hour on the journey east. We are now on Central Time which means that we are now only 6 hours behind the UK.

By the way, the Gene Pitney fans among you will be fascinated to know that in Lubbock we are in fact “24 hours from Tulsa”. It is also interesting to note that no-one we have met out here so far seems to have heard of Gene Pitney.