#2: [08-Nov-14]

12-Sep-1999 -- A day when you learn nothing is a day wasted. If that's not an old, wise quote, it should be. On September 12 my learning included two facts which I already suspected to be true: 1) Just because a map shows a road doesn't mean that the road exists, and 2) Just because a road exists doesn't mean it was designed for passenger automobiles.

Edward had just had his gall bladder removed, but, having inherited a good bit of his father's craziness, was perfectly happy to make a mild detour going back to Lubbock in order to see a confluence. It was a nice, cool day for September, so we enjoyed the ride through the wide open spaces of Borden (yes, named for the condensed milk guy) County westward toward our goal. The maps indicated that the confluence was up on the Llano Estacado, the amazingly big and flat plains of Panhandle Texas and south. The map off MapsOnUs even showed a road to within a few feet of the spot. Hmmm.

We found the right N-S road leading to the confluence easily enough. I wheeled right in, just like I knew what I was doing. The "road" was actually the east edge of a cotton field, with a tall dirt terrace on one side and 160 acres of cotton on the other. The road surface, after the first hundred yards or so, was plowed sandy soil which, fortunately, had beed used by a tractor and/or truck a few times. We slowed to a brisk crawl and wallowed around the ruts for a half mile to the turn that led to the confluence itself. The "road" then deteriorated to plowed sand with no prior traffic. Then it ended. The farmer, not having consulted MapsOnUs, had cotton planted from almost exactly 102W on west for another half mile. I stopped, naturally, and determined that we were maybe 100 feet or so from 33N 102W, based on the map wiggle that was also there as a road wiggle.

Obviously, it was photo time.Picture #1 shows the view southwest from the confluence, across plains that I like to think looked about the same when Coronado gave them their Spanish name. (The white dot in the middle is not a UFO- more a WalMart film processing goof.) Picture #2 looks north across the aforementioned cotton, and shows Sonya and Edward smiling despite their doubts on my chances of driving them back out to real pavement. But I got lucky and did, only having to go about a quarter-mile in reverse before the track was wide and firm enough to turn around.

Much relieved, we went on to New Moore. On the way, I stopped for Photo #3, a trap set to lure romantically inclined boll weevils to an early demise. Finally, Picture #4 shows the city limit sign, as well as the entire town, of New Moore. We had to travel on in search of a coke- New Moore is closed on Sundays.