My original plan for this adventure – adjusted for the unplanned hiatus over the summer – was to finish up, gloriously, in Hays County on my day of days, Halloween. However, for a two-month spell, it just R A I N E D. I could never get out for more than a one-day run, and I was scheduled to go to Thailand on 3 November to renew my visa. I was running out of time.
On Thursday morning, 25 October, there was heavy weather predicted to come in from the west – but it looked like, if I put the hammer down, I could complete the unfinished business I had from the original Trip 7, which was to include much of North Texas. On the previous Sunday I had managed to get up to Dallas, Fort Worth, and Rockwall and visit those urban environments on the weekend. I still had five left from that trip. I decided to roll the dice and headed out on the Indian on Thursday morning to see what happened.
Here was the route:
Having already done the run from Wimberley up to the Dallas-Fort Worth area several times on earlier trips, this one was basically non-stop, except for gas, from Wimberley to Stephenville, seat of Erath County.
It was cloudy and misty when I left Wimberley in the morning, but by the time I had gotten north of Marble Falls, Mother Nature had created a perfect seam, with cloud and drizzle to the south of me, and beautiful blue sky to the north. Here are the two views, shot from the same place:
So I continued happily, on the new Indian, north toward Stephenville, about a 180 mile trip.
Erath County was part of Comancheria (Comanche territory, theme of the next adventure), and was regularly raided until the Comanche were all moved (the few that were still living) to Oklahoma. The county was named for an Austrian immigrant who surveyed this area. He became a Texas Ranger and also fought at the Battle of San Jacinto, where the Texians defeated Santa Anna.
Somewhat surprisingly, after the Comanche were removed Stephenville became a coal-mining center for several decades.
Ben Hogan (the golfer) was born in Stephenville, and the singer Jewel lived here with her then-husband. Jacobs Crawley, not a household name, but the world rodeo champion is from here.
From Stephenville, one eye on the weather, I scooted due north to Palo Pinto, seat of the county of the same name. Palo Pinto is almost an accidental county seat – it only has a population of around 400 people and the town of Mineral Wells is MUCH larger.
This is Indian country, and there were numerous atrocities committed by both sides in this area (kind of like Charlottesville, eh?). Attempts had been made to settle tribes that were being pushed westward in this area, but the Anglos were determined that the tribes would either be eliminated, or moved. Both happened, giving way to a new round of conflict between ranchers, including Charles Goodnight and Oliver Loving, of Goodnight-Loving Trail fame, and farmers. Fence-cutting wars lasted from 1883 to 1888, with the ranchers eventually suffering a fate similar to the Native Americans, though at least they weren’t killed.
The highlight of the visit to Palo Pinto (other than discovering that the town was too small to have a gas station, prompting another heart-in-mouth running-on-empty trip westward to Breckenridge) was that the monarch buttterflies were in full migration to Mexico, and they were all clustered around the courthouse:
From the tiny town of Palo Pinto I headed due west toward Breckenridge, seat of Stephens County. (Why wouldn’t the seat of Stephens County be Stephenville? Don’t axe me…) In any case, Stephens county is named after another Confederate personality, this one having been a Vice President of the Confederacy. Yawn.
The county seat of Breckenridge is yet another of those towns that were once established because they were on the railroad line, but once that imploded they were just…out there.
From Breckenridge, sun still shining, I headed due south toward Eastland, seat of Eastland County. Eastland was named for an officer executed by Santa Anna as part of the Black Bean drawing described in the Trip 1 (South Texas) blog.
There’s an amazing tale about Eastland. When the old courthouse was built in 1897, a horned toad named “Old Rip” somehow got sealed up in the cornerstone of the courthouse. When the courthouse was rebuilt in 1928, the original cornerstone was opened and Old Rip was STILL ALIVE. Old Rip died in 1929 and is supposed to be encased in a glass “crypt” in the present courthouse. I guess in his honor there’s a Horned Frog Firearms store opposite the courthouse. Texas!
Continuing south from Eastland, with heavy weather building to the west, toward Comanche, seat of Comanche County.
The original wooden courthouse, called the “Cora Courthouse” is still standing on the courthouse grounds, one of the few remaining from the 19th century.
From Comanche, I headed on back to Wimberley, once again arriving just at dark. This day trip of 520 miles added five counties to the tally, now up to 245, 9 short of the total. It was a day well spent, bringing the final success within reach.
