Texas Road Trip 2016

by Holly Gibson

For the last three years, my dad, Barclay Gibson, and I have taken a three to four-day road trip through central and eastern Texas. The tradition started as a wildflower tour and a chance for us to do something together, but this year the trip had a more historical/documentary bent. Dad has a vast knowledge of the state (evidenced whenever some hapless resident asks him where a certain town is; the answer is usually followed by the name of the county, county seat, and cemetery location), and for the past few years he has spent many hours on the road documenting the centennial granite markers that dot the state, courthouses, churches, jails, depots, and cemeteries. He's met a lot of people along the way and even led a few groups to various sites they didn't know existed even though they lived nearby.

Texas Road Scene
Photo courtesy Holly Gibson, April 2016

This year he had numerous abandoned churches and schools he wanted to find and photograph in a number of small, isolated towns. Now, that sounds relatively easy, but let me add that many of these old churches and schools are located on county roads, dirt roads, and overgrown roads, not to mention bumpy roads. There was also no one route to take that would include all of them. As we criss-crossed through counties and around towns (I saw the sign for Crockett, Texas at least five times but never did see the town), I realized this was very much like the old Westerns where the hero keeps riding past the same rock. As we went by a barn I had photographed two days before, I knew exactly how that old cowboy felt. To be fair, every so often I'd yell for dad to stop the car because I'd seen something I had to get a picture of. He'd slam on the brakes, pull over, and I would run down the road and over to whatever scene had caught my eye. We had beautiful weather each day, with dramatic spring skies of dark clouds illuminated by the sun and set off by the bright green below.

County Road
Photo courtesy Holly Gibson, April 2016

Anyone who has not visited Texas probably envisions a mix of images from Western movies, Pace picante sauce commercials, and anything else stark and dusty in nature. In fact, a wide expanse of dirt, scrub, and tumble weeds likely comes to mind. True, that landscape does exist, but so does one of winding roads over grass-covered hills disappearing into thick forests. Of bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush dotting the roadsides and nearby fields and huge wisteria draped over wooden fencing. I've lived in the Pacific Northwest for the past ten years and as we drove through north central Texas, I had to keep reminding myself I wasn't watching the Oregon landscape flash past.

Ranch Entrance
Photo courtesy Holly Gibson, April 2016

Mistletoe Trees
Photo courtesy Holly Gibson, April 2016

After three days of old buildings and back roads, we made our way to Dallas, stopping every now and then for me to take pictures of bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrush. Once we arrived in Dallas, we had several hours to kill before meeting family for dinner, so we headed to the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden. This wasn't quite Dad's thing so he good naturedly read for about three hours while I swarmed round the gardens. The azaleas, rhododendrons, delphiniums, impatiens, and about every other spring flower imaginable were on full display. There were also numerous water features, which meant using a nearby sign and my handy rice "beanbag" as a makeshift tripod in order to slow the exposure time down to give the water a smooth texture. I had my excuse all ready in case an employee asked what I was doing with their sign.

Dallas Lake
Photo courtesy Holly Gibson, April 2016

Dallas Arboretum
Photo courtesy Holly Gibson, April 2016

The next morning I spent some time in a nearby park and enjoyed the sunshine and heavy smell of honeysuckle. My plane didn't leave for several hours so we visited the George W. Bush Presidential Library and Museum on the campus of SMU before heading to the airport. As always, I was sorry to leave Texas and I'm already finding myself looking forward to next year's excursion. I hope dad feels the same way.

© Holly Gibson
June 6, 2016 guest column