GTT...

An audible book is often playing as we travel.

We just finished one by Brian Kilmeade on Sam Houston and the Texas fight for independence.   As obnoxious challenging as Texans can sometimes be, I now understand their "Texas is a Republic" statement.

He mentioned before the fight for freedom, a common sign found on houses abandoned in the east was ..."GTT" short for...Gone To Texas... as people moved there for a fresh start and another chance in the wild frontier..."Second Chancers" they were called.

And I think most everyone needs a second chance, and some of us maybe three or four. 

The enjoyable book was timely as we headed from the windy beaches of North Carolina to the windy high plains of Texas on the trail to Armadillo...errr, I mean Amarillo.

There is only one word to describe far west Texas..."flaaaatwindy".  If windy was a contest, Amarillo might win over Kitty Hawk.

And there are no trees between Amarillo and the North Pole.

Which makes me wonder...are there no trees because of the constant wind, or is there constant wind because of no trees??? 




We overnighted at the AOK RV Resort, whose stated mission is simply to be a place for tired I40 RV drivers to set up for the night...for only 14 bucks.  Truly no frills, but quiet and mostly level sites, and who can say no to a good bargain?


But, we did have concerns when we saw the dangerous looking neighbors...who were eyeing us kind of close.

I have renewed respect for the cowboys that chase these monsters out of the Mesquite thickets.  Think we might need to play a Louis L'Amour book next...maybe "Sackett's Brand"! 

And Clyde was eyeing those critters back...not sure if it was because he wanted to show off his cutting horse skills or because he was feeling horn envy?

And I'm thinking he might look quite handsome with a pair mounted up high on the hood...so we've started looking for a set, but they will have to be big...really, really big! 




Judy's good friend Carole grew up in Pampas, TX which is not far from Amarillo.  I have a new understanding and appreciation for her growing up there after seeing it firsthand. 

One can see from horizon to horizon, with nothing blocking the view. 

And the towns seem to get farther and farther apart as you head west.  About the only way you know you are getting close to Amarillo is when you see the "Free 72 Oz Steak" billboards.




Now the "Big Texan" with those free 72 oz steaks was just 4 miles away from camp, and since we were growing tired of beef jerky and beans, we loaded up Clyde and headed into town to see the sights...and maybe get one of those free steaks! 

We found a quiet table in the corner and I was a bit worried when a man in a 10 gallon black hat and a big shiny Marshall badge walked up to our table.

My first thought was our past had finally caught up with us... 

 Turned out he was our waiter! 

And so of course, we had to ask the good Marshall...

Seems the free 72 oz steak is not free...it must be eaten in one hour, plus the sides and a baked potato...and if you don't finish it off in time...

You get to pay the $72 bill for the steak!




So we went with an 8oz medium and 16oz medium rare...and just enjoyed the meal...the evening...and each other's company.

And don't ya' know...in spite of giving my dear wife a night off, some good food and taking her out on the town, she still can sometimes be a mite contrary, but I try to overlook that, just like she overlooks my single, very inconsequential remaining fault.

After 43 years, I still love that girl! 

And the next morning we left Amarillo early, little knowing what lay ahead on the trail to Copper Mountain...


Let the adventure continue...