Right 'round Midnight

The drive was intense. It was only with some last-minute motivation from the fine folks on The Hill that I called Kelly in Plano, TX and asked what she might think 'if I showed up tomorrow morning'. She gave me an excited invitation and I packed for my 5-month adventure and said goodbye to my family. Mom brewed a thermos of coffee for my trip and I was on I-35 'round 'bout Midnight. Emporia passed in a blur and I paid my $6 toll in Wichita while the big-rigs and road-trippers emptied into the rest stops and onto the rural routes for the night. Wichita wasn't very exciting. I began to feel the overwhelming sleepiness long before Oklahoma City. A spectacular thumbnail-moon scooped the horizon through the orange glow of the city. Despite its empty streets, it seemed to give me a bit of a second (or third,..fourth) wind. There appeared always to be a hopeful set of taillights in front of me, though it is very possible that it was just another colourful hallucination. A thick, cloudy fog didnt help either. I drove through nearly continuous clouds rolling over the interstate- they were think and then thin as I gained a bit of altitute- and then the night was crystal-clear again with each ridge and crest. It all seems to have been mashed together with my exhaustion. Dawn came- I first suspected it to be another falsity as I had already spent several hours hoping that the moments of slight-colour in the sky were that. I stopped to fill up just after the peak of colour. The fresh air was good- I spent a few minutes in a dewy-wet field with my camera, and again as I crossed over the Washita River. It was the homestretch from there.

Kelley got her 1-hour notice and the final bout of tiredness diminished as I turned onto the President George Bush freeway. It wasnt until I was deep into the residential streets that i realized the silly directions I'd printed off, 9 hours before, were incomplete. Instead of calling, though, I took a handful of right and wrong turns and recognized the street that she lives on. Kelly met me out front. She showed me some of her latest sketches and ink/watercolour things (a neat series inspired by the mineral exhibit from our visit to the LA Museum of Natural History!!) ... and she took me out to a Brazilian cafe-place for a much-needed omelet!

We had a wonderful day at her favorite local park- one that she described as "how rich people do nature"- and a visit to her grandparents. Georgia, Kelly's wonderful pup, got some good off-leash time with the tennis ball.

Grandma and Grandpa were so sweet! I was quizzed about my photographs and was excited to teach them about their new Nikon DSLR. I talked a lot about night shots, and manipulating the different camera functions to create the effects they liked in my photos. I felt that Kelly was unusually silent through the visit, and later learned that she feared I was being bombarded with questions.
A return to the house- I got to meet her two siblings for the first time and the family crunched-in to fit me at the dinner table. Dad said a short prayer- I felt a bit awkward bowing my head to participate, but still I felt welcomed.

We shared a pleasant walk through downtown Dallas after nightfall. I tried taking some photos, but apparently I have a lot to learn about that as well. After Kelly's morning interview, and some good conversation with the parents, we rode separately to Sherman, where Kelly lived for four years to complete her Art/English degree. She lived in a cool old house that was eerily similar to our old Jarboe home in Kansas City- pink bath tile and all. The house is occupied by friends now, and they put us up in the living room. We spent some time walking across the Austin University Campus- she had a fun story for every building! I got a tour of the old downtown area, too- full of beautiful old Maryville-type buildings and some great ruins of an old train industry. Much of the architecture was like that of Old-Missouri's- maybe a little newer. The town, however, was many times larger than where I'd done school for a semester, covering nearly 40 square miles (compared to Maryville's 5). For sunset I was treated to a stroll down the ancient railroad bridge crossing into Oklahoma over the Red River in the small town of Carpenters Bluff. .. The old wood decking was creaky and burned in places- non existent in some. Kelly had never walked the entire length of the bridge before, and upon our return to Texas we determined that there was more graffiti and damage to the Oklahoma-side of each pylon. The tops of the boards were lightly burned in some places, while the spaces in between them were scorched. I thought that it might mean, while the burned areas appeared fluid like a puddle, that gasoline had been burned on the bridge. A placard told its story:

"ORIGINALLY BUILT AS A RAILROAD BRIDGE FOR THE MISSOURI, OKLAHOMA AND GULF (MO&G) LINE, THIS LANDMARK STRUCTURE ACROSS THE RED RIVER CONTINUES TO PROVIDE A TRANSPORTATION ROUTE BETWEEN GRAYSON COUNTY, TEXAS, AND BRYAN COUNTY, OKLAHOMA. MC&G OFFICIALS DETERMINED THEY NEEDED A LINE THROUGH GRAYSON COUNTY TO CONNECT THERE WITH OTHER RAILWAYS IN ORDER TO SECURE BETTER FREIGHT RATES FOR THEIR SHIPMENTS FROM THE OKLAHOMA COAL MINES. THE NEW LINE, UNDER CONSTRUCTION BY 1910, ENTERED TEXAS VIA THIS BRIDGE AT THE SMALL COMMUNITY KNOWN AS CARPENTERS BLUFF.
COMPLETED IN THE LATE SUMMER OF 1910, THE CARPENTERS BLUFF BRIDGE WAS DESIGNED TO WITHSTAND MAJOR FLOODS SUCH AS THE ONE IN 1908 THAT HAD DESTROYED SEVERAL AREA BRIDGES. ITS DESIGN ALSO INCLUDED A WAGON SHELF, AN EXTRA LANE TO SERVE TRAVELERS ON FOOT AND HORSEBACK, AS WELL AS HORSE-DRAWN VEHICLES, ALL OF WHOM HAD TO PAY A TOLL FOR ITS USE.
IN 1921, OWNERSHIP PASSED TO THE KANSAS, OKLAHOMA AND GULF RAILWAY CO., WHICH MAINTAINED THE LINE UNTIL 1965, WHEN THE COMPANY CEASED OPERATIONS IN TEXAS DUE TO DECLINING RAIL TRAFFIC. THE TEXAS & PACIFIC RAILROAD MAINTAINED THE BRIDGE FOR A BRIEF TIME AND THEN DEEDED IT TO THE COUNTIES OF GRAYSON AND BRYAN. COUNTY COMMISSIONERS AGREED TO CONVERT THE STRUCTURE FOR VEHICULAR TRAFFIC, AND UPON COMPLETION OF THAT WORK, THE BRIDGE WAS OPENED AS A FREE PUBLIC THOROUGHFARE.
SPANNING THE RED RIVER SINCE 1910, THE CARPENTERS BLUFF BRIDGE REMAINS A SIGNIFICANT PART OF GRAYSON COUNTY’S HISTORY."

- www.co.grayson.tx.us

I started driving after a night at the old Sherman house- after dark, again. Kelly and I had an awesome goodbye- it was hard not to start spewing travel plans at her- she proposed a couple of road-trippy ideas herself! From Sherman, through Amarillo and all of the way to a 2am rest-stop just 11 miles from the New Mexico Border... Despite a short encounter with a TX hwy patrol-dude (issued me a ticket for having one of my license plate-lights out, @#&*er!) I was out to make time to California! My alarm was set for 6...

I was the only engine running, amongst a huge number of Semi's, at six when i left to reach the NM border before sunrise. By the time I passed Tucumcari, however, I was lookin at snow. My gas tank would be right on empty as I pulled into the cheapest station in Albuquerque- A gamble, but I could always fill up in Santa Rosa.

The town came and went and my new truck was getting mileage better than I'd hoped for! I passed up some reasonable prices, but only because I was feeling too motivated to pull off. the clouds for sunrise were awesome- Like the winter storm which had whitened the medians had only just passed! Low wisps and dark masses- everything was moving and changing above me.

I found myself in a bit of falling snow as i entered into a more mountainous region - cars and trucks coming from the west were covered in snow- they werent so many..?

I was only starting to get excited about the falling snow when I rounded a sharp hill and slammed-on the brakes for all of the red lights in front of me! The inattentive sedan behind me came way to fast- I was ready to stop for the line of Big-rigs, but the little thing whipped from behind me and to my left- deep into the snowy middle of the Interstate. The trucker beside me had his own moment of excitement about the time that my car began to vibrate. The unfamiliar ABS system gave me a bit of a fright, but a trailer spun out in front of me... I slowed to the 3 or 4mph that traffic had slowed to, and imagined that the slushy, icy I-40 couldn't possibly be the cause of all the chaos. My heart beat fast!

...Traffic crept- minivans and pickups crawled along the sides to bypass the holdup, and Semi's began parking on the sides as adrenaline levels dipped to normal. I called a few folks to ask if the interstate was being closed by the storm, but got no answers or replies. My tank fell to empty after an hour or so and I decided to take action before the car died.

It was the first time I'd really used the four-wheel drive- through a flat, open field to whatever highway paralleled the stopped cars. I popped over the highway and across the oncoming lanes- stuck the gears into 4x4 and was up onto the icey flat easier than I'd hoped! I rolled over the snow- it rose up behind me like dust on a dry dirt road... IT was AWESOME! I drove it up to forty and with only one lost pickup following me, I felt like I should have been in a dramatic movie scene or something! About half-way across the field I began wondering about the possibilities of a fence blocking my way onto the small highway that I saw. No worries; I could always drive back.

no fence! I made it over a big ditch and onto highway onetwentysomething! It was a miracle! I pulled into a small gas station on the highway just minutes after getting on- and just minutes before the tank would run dry! With my truck happy again and myself feeling rather accomplished, I slipped behind the closed building for a needed brake. The icy wind from the opposite side of the building was intense- it blew strong waves of ice and snow from the roof- I tried taking a pic of the dumpster being overcome by the white-out, but with frozen fingers and only my silly gadget, I got it in between the most intense bouts of snow. The sun shown through the blowing ice- it all made for a brilliant scene, but I was too cold to try photographing it again. For miles I drove between an equally confused Jeep and the pickup who'd followed me from the Interstate. I tried keeping an eye on the heavy traffic that I'd escaped, but it did not appear to lighten or speed up at all.

I assumed that they'd closed the interstate- a nasty sign for my long drive to California. When I found a patrolman blocking an entrance ramp, I stopped to ask about it all. The man was very friendly- "Your free to park on the ramp" he said. " It'll be about eight to ten hours before they get the wreck cleared. Where ya headed?" I told him I needed to get to Las Vegas and he told me to stick on the highway that I'd come from, and follow it until it intersected the Interstate again, where they should be letting folks on.

Not long after resuming the slower drive I saw the end of traffic- maybe fifteen miles from where I had the adrenaline rush and traffic came to a near-stop. Another mile gave way to the haunting image of two mangled Semi-trailers locked together. One on it's side, I think, and one broken and upside-down. They blocked the entire width of westbound I-40 and emergency vehicles swarmed.

through albuquerque my intentions were to fill-up again in Gallup, New Mexico. The heavy sky turned to wonderful sunshine and another closed I-40. The road was wet, but not icy and the stopping process was aided by EXIT HIGHWAY signs far in advance of the single-file line onto the ruins of another rural highway. I was optimistic- traffic moved relatively quickly at more than ten miles/hour for several minutes. Nope. I parked behind a metallic trailer before we started moving again and took a few shots of the beautiful snowscape to the north- vermillian bluffs and all.

I rolled with traffic for an hour or so. Another truck had closed the interstate- this time with a crunched cab and a no front axle or wheels. He didn't flip, but had plowed through the brush and snow north from the road. His missing axle- bent and many yards from the cab, and another deformed something was lodged against a pole about a tenth of a mile from his place of rest. We filed back onto the Interstate only 30 miles from Gallup.

Only 30 miles later, my credit cards which payed for all of my gas had been cancelled- AFTER I owed a great sum for the gas that i filled the tank with. I called my parents who received a call from the card company notifying them of some suspicious activity in Gallup. Yep, that was me. My mom gave me another card number acceptable to the clerk and I was freed.

By flagstaff my money was turned on again and by sunset I was stuck in the Security-mess before crossing Hoover dam. At 5mph, all of the backside of the Dam was lit up, beautiful and impressive!
Again I laid down my gas money in Las Vegas. Gas was up nearly 30c/gallon from when I visited Kelly in Plano. I drove north where I would cross Death Valley and face my final few hours on the Eastern Sierra. A sign to Pahrump- the city of nearly 40,000 in the middle of nowhere. Pahrump is a modern phenomenon- unincorporated and in the Pahrump valley of 2700feet, originally inhabited by the Shoshone. Until Las Vegas boomed in the '60s, there were no paved roads or telephones in the Valley. I cut across the north end of town on Bell Vista Ave and faced incredible darkness to the west. Not much of a moon, if there was one. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim- appropriate for having entered California, but the Hotel was nowhere to be found. I grew sleepy enough to feel unsafe driving and so desperate as to park the truck at Death Valley Junction for the night. At nearly 1, I rolled down the windows and slipped into the back for another few chilly hours.

I woke up in a desert- amongst cacti, far mountains and with every liquid thing stored in the truck FROZEN. Again I photographed the telephone poles above me. I once told Kelly that they bring a sense of harmony or rapport to me. Railroad tracks do for her what these long lines do for me. -Im sure there is a better word for it..Any suggestions?

I drove to watch the sunlight sweep across vast Death Valley for the first time since it retreated at sunset. Instantly a warm world appeared that did not exist in the cold night. Birds were more common than I'd seen them in the past few days. Finch-things mostly, but a huge circling flock of what appeared to be snow geese revealed themselves above the Valley floor-. They flew at an altitude nearly equal to the surrounding peaks- Big, white things with black wings. Near Furnace Creek, I was just 18miles from Badwater, the lowest point in the US at 282 feet above sea level, and 110miles from the highest point in the lower 48: Mt. Whitney, 14505ft. As the crow flies, Badwater in only 76 miles from Whitney.

The small village/resort at Furnace Creek is also known for having the highest recorded temp in the Western Hemisphere at 134degrees F.

I stopped in the valley to take photos of the Sand Dunes and the Devil's Cornfield, where vegetation is spaced evenly and elevated several feet above the ground in places due to high erosion that's washed away all sediment from around the plant, leaving it standing on it's roots. I made it through the valley- into the Joshua Tree desert on the West side.

There I spotted a big white pile of the fresh tailings of a mine- high up on a hill and maybe a half-mile north of hwy 190. It was just a speck when I spotted it-there were several- and I immediately pulled up onto the volcanic rock and kicked it into 4-wheel drive. I love it!

Not long after leaving the hwy for the rough desert I came upon an ancient trail. The grown-over ruts appeared to be heading in the general direction of my pile of rocks and I followed it for only a few hundred yards until it was no longer identifiable. I rolled all of the way to the base of the tailings and indeed they were piles of mine-waste. With a pocket knife and a ball of old aluminum foil, I began collecting small bits of quartz and even a small garnet on my way up. I searched the rubble for signs of minerals that might tell me what was being dug, but i dont know enough about that. The matrix was white and grey, soft, waxy and flaky- I recognized it from the Harding Mine that I visited in New Mexico over a year ago. I couldnt tell you its name

Existing amongst the white were many pieces of calcite- like the low-grade optical stuff that we used to find with Beaver Lake's sandstone in Arkansas. I scrambled to the top of the pile to discover the place from where all the mess had derived. In the deep hole of the mine I found handfuls of the garnet-bearing white stuff. The largest crystals are only a few milimeters in diameter, but they are a beautiful gemmy red when you hold them to the light. Most appeared old and weathered- even when I broke the fresh faces of the crystals from the wall of the mine, they appeared rounded and to have something of a worn, matte finish. Alamandine?

I wondered deep enough into the hole as to loose all sunlight and blindly gathered another pocket-full of material.

Still, there was no obvious metal in the stones. The garnets' colour has seeped into the matrix stone in a small layer around each crystal and the facets of many seem to have a metallic patina on them of a bronzish-colour. Can anyone help teach me what they are, or what might have been collected in the mine? There were many smaller prospecting-type holes around the mine, and I never visited the two other tailings piles that could be seen just my right, but I suspect that this mine a more professional operation.

I got out safe- avoided those man-eater, tire-killing cacti that spotted the terrain and was back on the highway with a waterbottle full of garnet-material and a dime-sized bit of opalite. Through the redrocks and past the "Sulfate Farm" thats eating-up dry Owens Lake. the deserted land around owens lake has an incredible history of mining towns and water-rights disputes: Starting in 1866, and for nearly a century thereafter, the Cerro Gordo Mines produced fortunes in Silver and Lead bullion shipped to Los Angeles via wagon, and later zinc ores.

Early mining was hindered by hostile indian activity and the limits of adobe-oven smelters, a 3-day trip to the other side of the lake and no roads. Before the peak of mining in the 1880s, the Bessie Brady barge had cut the 3-day frieght to three hours and modern smelting operations, trains and an improved toll road made for the high-production of ingots shipped to LA.

A second mining boom in 1910 was focused on the discovery of zinc ore, then used in the production of alloys and consumed for nutrition. In 1913, the city of LA established aquaductes which diverted water from Owen's tributaries. The lake dired up and the City was sued by a Soda Products company who used the the $15,000 settlement to build a new plant on the Dry lake Bed which burned down a short time later. Chemicals and minerals were extracted from the lake's Brine. los Angeles was again sued after the wet summer of '37 when it spilled water back into the lake from it's aquaduct. The original court-ordered $154000 fine was taken to supreme court in '41 and ultimitly resulted in the construction of the Long Valley Dam which impounded lake Crowley, to the north, for flood control.

Well, I thought it was cool.

I filled up for the last time in Lone pine, under the shadow of majestic Mt Whitney, and spotted Mammoth Mountain to mark my exit.