El Paso Mission Trail

It was another cold, foggy morning.  The fog and the oil refinery smoke prevented the sun from rising.  I thought it would be nice to see the sun rise over the Monahans sand dunes, but the sun never appeared  The day simply went from dark grey to light day.  There was thus no reason to linger in the state park.  It officially didn't open until 8:30am but I was out of there at 7:30am.  For three more hours I drove with my winter jacket on, stopping at rest areas and picnic areas to walk around and stretch my legs.

The morning was cold and foggy until I got to just west of Kent, TX, where I-10 and I-20 merge.  The terrain here starts rising and becomes hilly, and that is where the fog finally lifted and the warmth returned.  Finally!  I was also relieved to get out of the Texas stinkhole. I was now officially in West Texas, the Mountain Trail Region of jagged, treeless peaks and arid climate.
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My destination for today was El Paso.  I wanted to drive the Mission trail and walk around the compounds, then get into town and explore some brewpubs.  The many short stops and short walks were  fine with Minnie, but she would have tired from longer walks anywhere.

The far western part of Texas is dry and Chihuahuan desert, much like southeastern Arizona.  But unlike Arizona, most of the land is private ranch land, so when there is something public like a rest area, it's aways worthwhile to take a break and take in some history.

The Pyote rest area off I-10 is also a museum to the Rattlesnake bomber than was flown over the area during World War II.  I've been to a few other Texas interstate rest areas that are little museums with free wi-fi.  I took my time to read up on the B-17 bomber.

There is no other trace of the B-17's presence here other than this rest area.  I walked around the place, and walked around two more smaller picnic areas just to take in the desert smells.  How much I appreciate the smell of sage and creosote after spending the night surrounded by sulphuric gasses.

 

The picnic areas are dominated by truckers who use them as rest stops.  They tend to be trashy and loud.  A few in far west Texas have short trails one can hike to get a better view of the land.

Van Horn, TX is only 80 miles east of El Paso. I drove through the town without stopping to eat, wanting an early start on the Mission trail.  I took a phone call from my cousin Hank who let me know that Carol is back in the hospital again.   She was making progress on losing water weight, but the fluids are coming back.  But more on her later.

There is such a feeling of abandonment and desolation in west Texas.  I got off the interstate at Fabens to drive near the border on TX20. This was once a major route of travel between Mexico and the United States.  TX20 eventually takes one to the missions of Elizario, Soccorro and Ysleta, but there is a lot of old stuff along the way falling in disrepair.  That also includes road kill: skunks, coyotes, dogs and cats.

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The three missions outside of El Paso are seven miles apart.  All three are still active churches,  I am not a church goer, but I do appreciate churches for the history, however violent it has been in the Americas, This violence has shaped this continent.

Due to the traffic and the many people, I kept the dogs in the car while I walked through all three missions complexes.  Each one is around 0.40 miles around. The congestion of modernity has spoiled the aura of the place. Instead of the gallop of horses and the whines of men, it's now car horns and hydraulic truck brakes.  Trucks and RVs now have to squeeze around the narrow roads as they enter El Paso from the southeast. http://visitelpasomissiontrail.com/explore/missions.html

Each mission is unique architecturally.  San Elizario has steps and a central square, along with an old theatre and soccer field. This is my favorite of the three missons because it is located away from traffic.  The other two are right off busy streets.

Socorro has a plain symmetrical facade

Ysleta has a silver-painted dome. The Tiguans still use this as their primary church.  A Pueblan tribe, they left New Mexico in 1680 after the Pueblan revolt.  This is the smallest church of the three, it also is the oldest (1689) , although its plaza is rather spacious.  The mission is surrounded by busy streets and is within the Tigua Reservation.  I would have enjoyed a quieter place, but then again this is not my place of worship.

I had to let the people enjoy their personal church.  It was early afternoon and now I wanted to try some beer.  The Blazing Tree was the first one to show up on my Google search, a small macrobrewery on the east side of town north of I-10.  Winds were blowing hard now, and dust hazed the air well into Juarez across the border when I walked in, still an hour left of Happy Hour and its $3.50 beers.

The Blazing Tree is worth a visit.  It's a small place.  It's dog friendly, but I kept the dogs resting in the car under shade.  The counter seats ten, and there are three more tables that can seat six each.  The place was already getting crowded with early postwork drinkers.  I sampled a "roasty, dry" pecan porter  (5.3% ABV) that lived up to its name, then joined the exhuberant general manager, Rick, who took willing customers to see the small brewing room.  There wasn't much to that room, but I appreciated Rick's passion for his work.  My beer tender was "Rick II," an older man who knows his beer.  I also tried the top selling Peanut Butter Brown Ale (5% ABV) that is enhanced with peanut oil.

I stayed long enough to try the two beers, then left for a second brewpub in downtown, the El Paso Brewing. It was early evening and the place was still filling up.  I sat at the counter  and tried the Mexican Vienna (!!!) Lager and then a Sun Helles.  I ordered a hamburger but it tasted like a frozen patty thrown on the grill.  Then, when I got the bill, noticed that I was charged 25 cents for a one-ounce sample of the Lager AND that the tip included the taxes!  Tips are always net taxes, so I took offense to the subtle way the establishment wants its customers paid.  Customers are not responsible for tipping on taxes.  The taxes go to the government. The beer and ambiance were fine, but this practice spoiled it for me to come back.

I will say the street the brewpub is on was quiet even at midnight.  In fact, all of downtown was quiet.  The plaza was decorated in holiday lights, but construction on several streets turned me off.  I went straight to a Motel 6 on the West Side of town, in preparation for tomorrow's hike in Franklin State Park.