Driving to Fort Davis

Barely retired, we begin my first retirement adventure munching on muffins, saying goodbye to Fort Worth, and pointing the nose of Michael’s BMW toward Big Bend. Seven hours of highways, not necessarily as straight as a stick, but most of them just as boring, lie between us and our first stop, Fort Davis.

Lunch

We arrive in Midland in time for lunch, searching for the Texas Monthly recommended Tampico Spanish Inn. Hopefully, their reputation for having the BEST Mexican food around these parts will turn out to be true.

I order my first chili relleno ever and am not disappointed. I even think it is good. It is a mild poblano pepper stuffed with seasoned ground beef and smothered in cheese. The enchilada is like those I grew up eating in San Antonio. It tastes of my childhood, so of course, I think it is wonderful. The chalupa is like any other, and the quesadilla is a disappointment—nothing but a crispy tortilla topped with orange queso.

The Limpia Hotel

The landscape continues its flat, desolate monotony, forever, it seems. Until, on the other side of Balmorhea, the land begins to rise with the foothills of the Davis Mountains, greeting us with a small taste of what is to come. The road is no longer a straight stick. It wiggles.

Reaching Fort Davis, we check in to the old Limpia Hotel, built in 1912 as a summer retreat for wealthy cattlemen. The first thing the desk clerk tells us after we hand over our credit card is that there is a Star Party at the McDonald Observatory, only eighteen miles away, that begins at 6:30—only an hour from now.  Not shunning any opportunity for adventure, we throw our suitcases in the room, retake our recently abandoned seats in the Beemer, and head up the mountain.

McDonald Observatory

Timing is everything, and we apparently don’t have it–timing, that is.  An hour too early for the Star Party, and thirty minutes too late for the film, we decide to have dinner in their coffee shop while we wait.

Michael has been playing footsie with a horrible cold for the last several days, and I worry about his lack of warm clothes.  It is windy and cold on top of this mountain, so we detour to the gift shop and buy him a hooded sweatshirt.  I wear a baseball cap (which I hate) to keep the top of my head warm.

The Star Party

While listening to an educational talk on the night sky, we see a full moon rise over the mountain, which, while totally cool, might not be a good thing. Our lecturer informs us that although beautiful, the brightness of the moon will diminish the brightness of the stars.

However, I am able to see some of the constellations as they are pointed out to us via a giant flashlight during the talk.  The Big Dipper and the Little Dipper being old friends from childhood, Orion’s Belt is new to me. When I discover it is one of the most conspicuous and recognizable constellations in the night sky, I’m not sure why I never noticed it before. Named after Orion, a hunter in Greek mythology, it has only taken me fifty-seven years to discover it. Now–it is a sure thing–I will always remember Orion, his belt, and this night.

The remainder of the star party consists of getting up close and personal to some of our planets via telescopes set up outside the visitor’s center. I see Saturn for the first time.  Jupiter, with her all her moons, is introduced to me. I discover a star nursery—don’t ask me—and a star cluster which is my favorite!  I see hundreds of blue and yellow dots through the telescope.

Cold to the bone, we drink hot cocoa and coffee to warm up before driving back to the hotel. I would like to return—on a summer night—with warmer clothes.