A few nights ago a tricked out high clearance sprinter custom build rolled into site 21 behind us. We had seen it around town earlier in the day but the Beware of Dog sign in the front window and German Shepherd at the door really got our attention. Our self-adopted pet cat, El Gato, skirted under the Clam door and into Sheri’s lap as if he knew trouble was in the air. The Shepherd wore a service animal vest and a muzzle and sat alert awaiting command as the driver opened up every window to catch the evening’s fresh air. It was much to our surprise when single-female, Jennifer, emerged with a wave and a smile. Her service friend followed behind her, a bit older in dog years than Jennifer, but not by much.
Our pilgrimage was her passing through. A son’s friend got married in Marfa and when he heard she was en route to Austin from Colorado he persuaded her to detour. Her expensive rig and nomadic lifestyle was her swan song of adventure as she managed her medications and energy level. After riding around town she asked us what the heck was she supposed to do here? “What interests you?” we asked, “food, shopping, galleries, music?” “None of the above,” she said, with tired in her voice. We suggested a ride up Skyline Drive for a birdseye view of Fort Davis and she indicated that she would put it on her list. Marfa can’t fix everything.
We had six things on our to do list for Friday – laundry, a fried chicken lunch pop-up, buy a piece of art we’d seen earlier in the week, stock up on Sotol at Cactus Liquors, walk through Cement Works, Marfa Mood and Ranch Candy then find the Bullroom. There was a chill in the air at dawn so we started with Big Bend Roasters Davis Mountain coffee in the Tumble In kitchen, a metal pole barn stocked with appliances and communal table. Sheri spied a practically new crock pot on a shelf and suggested something pulled for dinner before the concert that night. One small pork butt from the local grocer plus a jar of hot and sweet jalapeños from the Dometic and we were 6 hours away from pulled pork on rye. After two days of eating restaurant food our bodies were begging for home cooked. When you can eat anywhere you desire, sometimes what you desire is right at camp.
Down at the Tumbleweed Laundry, Eric caught up with Mr. Market over Starlink while Sheri scouted the surrounding neighborhood, taking in a fashion photo shoot and visiting the roll up door galleries for “art and more western shit” that were shells being built just a year ago. Marfa was hopping on a Friday morning. We spotted a stranger some laundry detergent and noticed that he was reading “The War of Art – How to fight your inhibitions and become an artist.” He was in the right place to get clean clothes and enlightenment.
Business hours in Marfa are “maybe” most days of the week, but Friday and Saturday are supposed to be staffed. With Cement Works and Ranch Candy closed, the gallery where we were going to spend money also closed and the pop-up fried chicken event a no show, we maximized our time at Cactus Liquors tasting a wide variety of Sotol, Mezcal and other eccentric spirits under the tutelage of the woman behind the cash register. We got to chatting, as is bound to happed when sipping Sotol at 11am, and she shared that she has been in Marfa for nine years. She mostly loves it but it could be a problem if you need health care or produce. Good to know. We’ve decided a couple of days at the Tumble In is enough for us. She had just listed our two must haves.
When Hot Chicken was a No Show, we fell into lunching at a Mexican food shanty on the edge of town. How the building was standing we will never know. Angel’s is a family run eatery where Grandma and Grandpa run the place, daughter and son-in-law are the staff, and the grand kids are under your feet. Our waitress (daughter) wore her newborn on her chest while serving our chili rellano burrito and beef taco plate that was cooked by her Dad in the open kitchen window. We wanted to return for Menudo on the specials board for Saturday, but her sister makes that and she had a catering gig. So no menudo for Sheric. Stomach tripe will have to wait. So sad.
Holden and Priscilla took Jennifer’s spot, rolling in to the Tumble In from Colorado in a beautiful $200k+, off-raod, off-grid, custom built Class B+. When they said they were headed to Big Bend Ranch later the next day we offered to share. It turns out that they were not headed to the interior, but rather the campsites on the Rio Grande 100 feet off the highway. It is beginning to dawn on us that we are not normal. No one wants to do a ShericAdventure. Their rig could make it to Sauceda Ranger Station and beyond. Then again, their rig could just as easily be a Class C Jayco. Rigs don’t go any further than their drivers, no matter how outfitted they are.
Out at the old bull auction arena, recently semi-converted to a music venue by Ballroom Marfa, we sat on rough wood bleachers in our finest thrifted western wear as Hayden Pedigo expertly plucked twelve strings on his guitar. We don’t have a favorite twelve-string instrumental guitar song, but if we did, it would be one by Hayden. The Pedigo Show captured the weirdness of his life from being the child of a preacher who held revivals in the back of an 18-wheeler in truck stops in Amarillo, TX, through his homeschooling and discovery of his giftedness with the guitar. It was a 12-string guitar therapy session culminating in a song from his latest album, “I’ll be waving as you drive away,” based on his favorite two part episode of Little House on the Prairie. It would have been incredibly strange for any other crowd. For Marfa-ites, it was another Friday night of performance art. If interested, you can catch him at the Black Squirrel in Philly on November 30 at 4:30pm or at the Union Stage in DC on December 1st at 8.
The jalapeño pulled pork was so delicious we couldn’t wait for leftovers. Sadly we forgot to move the Tupperware to the fridge in the truck. Not five minutes go by that we do not misplace our reading glasses and don’t get us started on the location of our phones. Keeping all of the devices in a charged state is problematic. It has been a shakedown for T@G and a shakedown for Sheric. The less you have, the more organized you need to become. Habit patterns will make or break you. We have developed some good routines with T@G, but our entrenched ways still provide opportunity for far too many mistakes. When you are in nomad-mode, a lost set of keys can end your trip. We could use another two weeks of habit-forming living, but that is not in the cards. Hopefully, what progress we have made in T@G living is enough for the next adventure.
