Journal

Episode 8: Walking across Rugged, Beautiful, and Eclectic West Texas

July 25, 2025

I recently reached a major milestone — 1000 miles walked! The sun was setting, but I pushed on across the little bridge, determined to make the last few tenths of a mile to reach 1000 miles. The landscape couldn't have been prettier with a windmill turning slowly behind me and the sky turning shades of pink and orange. It felt good to reach 4-digit miles, like making real progress. Onward for two thousand more miles to go!

From Van Horn, my route headed towards Valentine and Marfa. On the way, I happened upon the Valentine Bar — a true West Texas treasure tucked between the two towns. The little bar has that dusty, off-the-map magic reminiscent of days gone by. The green 1950s Formica and chrome table brought back memories from my childhood. A big shout-out to the proprietor, Jason, for letting us hang out at this infamous dive bar with a renowned reputation. We took some pictures of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of dollar bills, signed and tacked up over the walls. The bar had an eclectic feel to it, in this town known for its Valentine's Day festivities.

From there, I moved through Marfa, Alpine, and Marathon — towns built up around railroad workers, miners, and their families in the 1800s. Next, we reached Sanderson, otherwise known as the “Cactus Capital of Texas.” The terrain along the way in this part of Texas is rugged and often desolate, but not without charm. Treated to spectacular sunrises and sunsets with their ombre-colored cast of browns, beiges, oranges, dark blues, and greens.

The road leaving Sanderson challenged the body and brain. The stretch of US-90 between Sanderson and Dryden — 89 miles of absolutely nothing, no gas stations, or food stops — just a long desert road stretching ahead. No options except camping on the roadside under the stars.

Now I'm past Dryden and through Langtry, nearly 1,200 miles into this journey. I've seen jackrabbits with impossibly long ears, dead rattlesnakes (thankfully not alive), and even a few dead tarantulas. It's wild out here — stark and breathtaking.

On chilly mornings, I am tempted to pull up the covers and stay cozy. But I don't. I lace up my shoes and keep walking. Because every step forward is a promise — to me, to everyone following along, and to anyone who's ever been told what they can't do.

Until next time,
Judy