West Texas Rambling: Deep in the Art of Texas

If you read the forums cyclists post about this stretch of the Southern Tier, you find a lot of talk about how fun and amazing it is. But when Cortney and I left El Paso and started down Hwy. 90, we were confused. The region was a beyond vast, extremely dry wind tunnel. There wasn’t much by way of scenery. And the highway follows the Southern Pacific railroad, so it’s relatively flat.

We didn’t get it. What’s the big deal? Why was everyone raving?

For one, the shoulder is nice and wide. It might be a little rough, but you’ve got plenty of distance from the traffic sailing by. And speaking of the traffic, there’s hardly any except for the Border Patrol.

Sure, this stretch is remote and peaceful. But we’ve discovered there’s more to it. Every 30 to 60 miles of pure nothingness, there are small towns, shadows of towns that emerge. And they’re warm and welcoming. Each of these places was once bigger and thriving before I-10 was created and the railroad dialed things back. Some feel more like ghost towns and others are experiencing a bit of a resurgence. So if you ever make your way to this remote stretch of West Texas, here’s a sample of what you’ll find:

Fort Hancock
There isn’t much here except a convenience store, a restaurant aptly named “Restaurant,” and an old school motel that’s way past its prime. If you don’t brave the motel, your only option is to stealth camp in the desert and hide out from the Border Patrol. (Good luck with that.)

Sierra Blanca
Rolling into Sierra Blanca, you feel like you’ve arrived in a ghost town. Most of the buildings on the main drag are in pretty bad shape or have been abandoned. The bright shining spot is the cyclist-friendly Sierra Blanca Historic Lodge. The place was in shambles when Charles and Leti purchased it several years ago. They’ve been putting in a ton of elbow grease to restore it to its former glory days—and it shows. Charles and Leti have stayed true to the history, the original stone and tile work, and Old West-frontier architectural styles. Their work is amazing—and they’re amazing people.

Van Horn
Even though it only has a population of about 2,000, it feels like a burgeoning metropolis compared with some of these other stops. There are a lot of options for places to stay and there’s even a market! It wasn’t going to be too cold, so we made our way down to the Van Horn RV Park to tent camp for the night. The park has several cyclist-friendly sites, a camp store, and even a small cafe. At camp, we met Jack, a super-nice snowbird who YouTubes his travels. He interviewed us—check it out.

In the morning, we had breakfast at the cafe and met Dana, our server. She was super impressed that Cortney was doing this ride. (Who isn’t, right?) In all of Dana’s time working at the cafe, she’s only seen ONE woman come through on a bicycle. Dana wouldn’t let us pay for breakfast either. She didn’t need to do that, but we appreciated it. Thank you, Dana!

Valentine
Rumor has it 100 people live in Valentine. But going through town, you wouldn’t know it. It’s a ghost of a town full of abandoned homes and neglect. There are no services, no markets, no nothing. There is, however, a wonderful library. The library has a history of helping cyclists on the Southern Tier. They have fantastic picnic-camping available in their back lot for bike travelers free of charge. The nighttime temperatures had dropped into the teens when we were in town, and sleeping outside would have been a veritable sufferfest. Cortney called ahead and Leti the librarian said we could sleep INSIDE the library. (Yes, INSIDE.) As two book lovers, it was a dream come true. And we were spared sub-freezing temperatures. Thank you, Leti.

Also important to note is how things start to get artsy as you get closer to town and to Marfa. That day, we passed a mini Walmart installation, some cool graffiti on abandoned gas stations, and of course, the Marfa Prada store.

Marfa
Our ride from Valentine to Marfa wasn’t long. Many people on the Tier simply go on to the next town. But we’d heard so much about this art hub in the middle of the desert, we had to check it out. Sub-freezing temperatures hit again that night so we stayed with a Warm Showers host who put us up in their fancy shed. (First time we ever slept in a shed—don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.) We visited the Planet Marfa beer garden, Big Sandy Coffee, and Andy’s Bike Shop. For the love of burritos, we also stoped at Marfa Burritos. The walls of the joint are covered with the proprietor and celebrities, like Mark Ruffalo, Matthew McConaughey, and Anthony Bourdain, among others. Oh, and the owner doesn’t speak a lick of English, so I got to practice my remedial Spanish skills. ¡Muy bien!

Alpine
This is the biggest town on the route between El Paso and Del Rio—and it’s not that big. (But it does have a university.) There’s a ton of history here as well. One standout for us was Hotel Ritchey, a beautifully restored saloon. There’s also the Bread Garden Bakery, where the owner Gaby makes fresh bread every day. We were lucky enough to try her house-made English muffin breakfast sandwiches. The owners moved here from San Antonio, just looking for a slower pace of life. They said that Alpine has everything you need. It’s a great place to raise kids. It’s quiet. And people take care of each other.

Marathon
Several of the locals jokingly told us not to get a flat here. If you do, you’ll never leave. Apparently, it’s a vortex. One guy we talked with was riding the Southern Tier about 14 years ago, came through Marathon, and never left. The town has a cool market, artsy B&Bs, fancy places to stay to cater to those heading out to Big Bend National Park, and a small brewery. But there’s not much else. Marathon is slow, quiet, and friendly, and I think they aim to keep it that way. It’s also a dark skies place with little light pollution and the stars at night really are big and bright deep in the heart of West Texas.

Sanderson
Like Marathon, this town is a vortex, too. We tried to leave after a day of rest and the weather turned icy and rainy, so we ended up staying longer than expected. There’s a lot of history in this town of 800, and it’s had its share of rough times. The headquarters for the railroad used to be here but they moved out, and a lot of the ranches have gone away.

But the town is trying to revive itself. New owners have come in to restore the Desert Air Motel to its vintage 60s glory. There’s Fergusons Motor Company, a coffee, food, art, and beer stop. It’s a family owned place that’s working hard to restore the building and provide something special to the community. And there’s Frank, the owner of the Ranch House. They were closed the day we went by but he offered to give us a ride back to our place because it was so cold out. And there’s long-time resident Jim Davis who went out of his way to get to know us, talk about the area, and share its history with us.

Cortney and I have often talked about once we left the familiar West Coast places and headed into the heart of the country, the real adventure would begin. And it’s true. We’ve never been to this part of the country before. We don’t know anyone here. We didn’t know quite what to expect. What we’re discovering is that all these towns are along this lonesome stretch of desert highway have their own unique character, personality, and political leanings. But the common thread is treating cyclists like us with warmth and kindness. Jim Davis of Sanderson said it best, when you’re in town, we treat everyone like family. How refreshing is that?

-Erik