Certainly it is cold today and not really just by south Texas standards,
either. It really is cold. But cold enough for snow? I've been here since
1991 and I'd never seen snow in Texas.
I decided I needed some Imperial therapy today. The continuous drizzle of
the last few days had let up so I thought I'd go out on a long drive. Go
out towards Uvalde along Highway 90. Its just south of the Edwards
escarpment and is long and straight. It's very fertile country, and very
flat. The road parallels the old Southern Pacific railroad tracks, wending
west. So many of the old towns there have these enormous spaces between
buildings on each side of the road and tracks, and so many of those
buildings are shuttered. I was taken aback to see the depot in Hondo still
there as I so recently saw a picture of it from the 1880s when the railroad
was bringing agriculture and these small towns to life.
Somehow, being in a 1958 vehicle seemed correct. The car came from that
pre-interstate era when these places were still alive and viable. The car
was running so well. It sounded and felt great. As I scooted along, just
cruising at 70, I was aware the car was smoking too much, which is a very
good indication the engine is going to have to be pulled and completely
rebuilt. I will probably have to get the transmission re-done at the same
time. Very expensive and time consuming challenges ahead.
I have been fooling, perhaps literally, with this car since 1994. How can
it be I still have so much left to do? I was so keen to be driving it in
1998, I didn't care about its appearance. Now it may be time to park it
again and just take care, properly, of all that ails it. And yet, today, it
was just such a joy to be driving it, fast and without much purpose, along
these marvelous roads and somewhat forgotten towns.
As I approached the road that goes to Utopia and the Edwards escarpment,
which goes all the way to Austin if you're not careful, it began to snow. A
light flurry, at first, then progressively heavier as I headed towards the
hills. Above 30 MPH, the wipers on my car are essentially useless. They
seem to hover above the glass making no difference whatsoever. At first the
road begins to undulate gently, then get more curvy, until before you know
it, you are driving some rather challenging roads with tight corners and
steep inclines and declines. For once, I was paying attention to the gas
gauge. When I stopped in Utopia itself for gas I could hardly see across
the road because of the driving snow. It was just like the old days in
Scotland, except instead of my light and nimble Citroen 2CV, with its tall,
narrow wheels, I was in an American luxo-boat.
It wasn't until I had progressed into the canyon road that takes you back to
Bandera, that I really began to think about my situation. What first
prompted a note of concern was the lack of other vehicles. Normally, I
would consider this to be a wonderful situation, but it gives you some pause
when you realize that they just might be your salvation should something bad
happen. You can also assume the nearest snow plough is more than five
hundred miles away, and even that seems a little close, come to think of it,
so just how smart an idea it is to be in an old, unreliable car on these
lonely roads becomes, albeit at that ill timed moment, something to
consider.
But the car was great. The lack of wipers did not really seem to be a
problem. The heater was toasty warm, Roadholding was just fine. So I
relaxed. The car handles the steepest grades with such aplomb. It's quite
a buzz to still be at 70 MPH at the top of a long, steep climb. I took care
of speed on the downward slopes by using second gear and little dabs of
brake here and there to keep things even. What a great car. It's true what
they say. Once you are behind the wheel, you are hardly aware of its size.
Once on the Bandera side of the central peaks, the snow was gone. The roads
were dry. The afternoon was bright but overcast. The miles sped by. By
the time I arrived at my kid's school to pick her up at 5:45, it was just
getting dark. I'm guessing I only drove a little over 100 miles. But it
was driving in terrain and weather I don't normally get to experience that
much together anymore, and it took me worlds away from the cares of life
that I am trying to attend to. It's good to have a break once in a while.
Call it Imperial therapy.
Hugh
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