Maile planned the whole trip so I got to get way out of town and gratefully go along for our drive out west into the Texas desert for five days. We camped two nights in the divine Davis mountains, attended a stellar start-party at the magical McDonald Observatory, swam in beautiful Balmorhea and explored big Big Bend while staying La Posada Milagro in Terlingua.
I particularly appreciated the decompression from work during the busiest time of the year. Entering the Santa Elena Canyon cathedral, cooling in the Rio Grande for the first time between the 1500 foot rock walls, was an amazing experience.
But when we pulled out of Terlingua Tuesday morning I wasn’t feeling well. It was probably the chilly and the beer from last night. And the arid altitude. And the prospect of reentry. From the passenger seat with my travel guitar, I sang, “Adios, Terlingua” and wrote this song as we headed home across the many desert landscapes, smiling and sad.
Adios, Terlingua. The crew, we got to fly.
I wish we didn’t have to go but we got all day to drive.
We’re headed back to Austin through the Chisos one more time.
I’ll try to hold your vistas in my mind.
Adios, Terlingua. Wish I was feelin’ fine.
It’s probably all that chili and the beer I drank last night
Or maybe it’s the altitude, not used to living so high
I’m comin’ down the mountainside.
Adios, Terlingua, where the ocotillo bloom
And mist covers the mountains till it all burns off by noon
In the baking midday sun we holed up in our dark cool room
And woke to desert lit up by the moon.
Adios, Terlingua, and the old Starlight Cafe
Dogs and locals on the porch, guitars and a fiddle play
For all the drinkin’ tourists with an hour and a half to wait
The starry music ends for us today.
Adios, Terlingua, and the beautiful Big Bend
Sweet Santa Elena, crossing the Rio Grande
I’m deep inside your canyon walled cathedral of rock and sand
I’m grateful for your humbling expanse.
Adios, Terlingua, and all your hippie refugees
Who left the crazy world behind for desert harmonies
I wish I could stay longer and hear a few more stories
I tip my hat to all your rugged glory.
Hasta la vista, Terlingua, vultures circling overhead
Gathered by the roadside or some dried up creek bed
So long sweet roadrunner crossin’ up ahead
A ghost town is rising from the dead.