Goin' Out To Cally – Part 14, Texas: Latin For Shoot Me Now

Waiting for the girl you like to call you back. Staring at water about to boil. Watching paint dry. Having a colonoscopy. All of these have one thing in common; they unnaturally warp time in a way that makes you want to smash a ball peen hammer into your skull… repeatedly. Watching the western Texas landscape fly by your window for over four hundred minutes could now be officially added to that mix.

We were spoiled during our first few days by quickly moving through Florida, Alabama, Mississippi and Louisiana. Texas was different. You know, they say everything is big in Texas. You know why? Because Texas is the size of Pluto. It’s massive. If you were to take all of the egos in Hollywood, convert them to land mass and throw dirt on it, you’d have Houston, at best. Texas is THAT BIG!

The day before I was pleasantly surprised by the rolling green hills of eastern Texas, but about thirty minutes west of Dallas you begin to see the Texas made famous in television and movies. There’s a lot sand and dirt and sand and heat and sand and bushes and sand. For about ten minutes I kept thinking, “Wow, this is cool!” After that it became mind-alteringly monotonous.

To put it into perspective, let me state it to you this way… imagine the worst spouse you could ever devise, give them a squeaky, nasally voice with a severe allergy to silence. Take that spouse, give them long polished nails and have them scratch a chalk board. Get into a small sports car with that spouse and chalkboard and combine that with blowing an air horn in your ear and that’s almost as painful as the first hour of watching mound after mound of fine Texan sand move past your car window.

Seven hours later we were still watching the rolling dunes grace our peripheral vision. So, crossing into New Mexico was like giving birth to a porcupine. It hurt like hell getting there, but you sure were glad when it was all over.

Tim pulled out his AAA Trip Ticket that outlines your path, gas stations, restrooms, dining and lodging options and stated we were only thirty-five miles from our next destination.

Tucumcari, New Mexico… home to a tragic Indian love story and the beginning of an ill prepared, problematic camping experience.

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Goin' Out To Cally - Part 14, (Text, Audio) Texas: Latin For Shoot Me Now
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 13, (Text, Audio) Cars, Crossroads and Cosmic Convergence
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 12, (Text, Audio) Tumbleweed Dreams
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 11, (Text, Audio) Wet, Rinse, Repeat
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 10, (Text, Audio) Divine Misdirection
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 09, (Text, Audio) Getting Nowhere Fast
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 08, (Text, Audio) The Cock Crows Nine
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 07, (Text, Audio) Is Jackass A Sign?
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 06, (Text, Audio) Leftovers
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 05, (Text, Audio) The Kiss Of Friendship
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 04, (Text, Audio) Scholastic Intimacy
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 03, (Text, Audio) Space Invaders
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 02, (Text, Audio) The Fourth Wheel
Goin' Out To Cally - Part 01, (Text, Audio) The Seed Planted