State Highway 273 (Detoured)

Blame it all on bbd, enlightening us to the wonders of back country roads, the amazing everyday sky above and the small eye-nuggets of treasure all around us if we just look. It sounds like a good thing, but really, it's just hell if you're driving and need to keep your eyes on the road. It's even worse if you're on a clock.

It sounds like a Dr. Seuss book: "The Things I Now See". I want to explore the stories, the anomalies, the quiet moments of the country road. To sit in a wheat field with the swaying shafts surrounding you is to know the story of mankind. No matter how fancy-shmancy we get, it all begins and ends here. We've disconnected and yet we yearn to reconnect and find the needed stillness within us.

When you get far enough off the main highway you join an exclusive club, oftentimes noted with the raising of a few fingers in passing from companion motorists/members. You know you're so far from help that it's to your benefit to realize we're all in this together. If only the greater world held such an understanding we might just could save this sinking ship.

As part of another project I was forced into taking roads I'd never seen before on my journey: State Highway 273. But even that road was closed for bridge repair and I was shuffled out into the boonies on various Farm to Market roads where I was really put out to sea. I enjoyed my voyage as a land mariner and knowing it unlikely to pass that way again I knew had to document my journey.

Before I hit 273 I passed through Shamrock, Texas. They took an old Conoco station and turned it into both their Chamber of Commerce and a cafe in the back. Genius.

Like a cathedral!

Through the cafe window.

Off to oblivion on 273!

On the horizon I see only endless land,
just as at sea there is boundless water.

How high is the sky?

I found this rusty compound. At first I thought it was abandoned
but I noticed the recent tire marks so I knew it was at least
partially in service.

Rusted out and left to rot, no longer useful -

the American way.

These two were still in operation...

These, not so much

Further out I saw this "booster station" which regulates compression.
The Texas panhandle is dotted by these sort of fossil fuel outposts,
some left to rot as relics, some still maintained like this one.

Here's a video snippet of a grasshopper pump in action.

Still some ranches out here too, no matter how far out you go.

But when I saw this abandoned rodeo arena, I knew I had struck gold.

First class accommodations!

Long unused holding pens.

But hey, still a couple of horseys around!

Fading numbers on the chutes.

Rusted metal bleachers speak no more.

God only knows what bent that metal.

The chute, once a place of anticipation, now a place for tall weeds.

But I cannot linger forever, even though I'm still thinking of the
shots I passed up in required haste. So it's up to you to carry on
exploring and to realize there is infinity in every leaf.