Folklore Paintings of Big Bend Texas
desert-chicken-studio.blogspot.com
Marathon Motel
& RV Park
Private Bath/Cable TV
Full Hookups/30 & 50 amp Pullthrus
continued from page 4
not kitschy – all is done in tune
with a sophisticated, but not
stuffy, aesthetic. This well-envi-
sioned garden is totally inviting.
This is no low maintenance
garden. The very idea would be
contradictory. This is a garden-
er’s garden, and a staff of two
part-time gardeners helps with
the moving of earth, large plants
and other heavy stuff with an
enthusiasm for plants and gar-
dens that echo that of the owner.
The collaboration has produced
some very lovely results.
While it would be a stretch to
call it a xeriscape, the garden uti-
lizes many qualities in keeping
with that philosophy. The native
soil in the beds was amended
with a composted cotton burr
material, which helps balance
the need for good drainage with
good water retention. The beds
are well mulched and soaker, or
“leaky,” hoses are used for water-
ing. This combination helps
maximize the water that is used.
As was mentioned earlier, place-
ment of plants and combina-
tions of plants with similar water
requirements means watering
can be done more wisely.
This wonderful, imaginative
garden requires work, but the
rewards are limitless!
Photo by Alice Stevens
The contrasting heights of the pots and the sizes and textures of
the plants create a point of interest all year long.
432.386.4241
HWY 90 W • Marathon • www.marathonmotel.com
continued from page 19
cochineal
cochineal
cochineal
cochineal
a restaurant in Marfa
26
living in the big city.
The South Rim trail was a
booger for me, but Brother John
could hike it hoppin’ on one
foot. I saw lots of views that
reminded me of old lies, and I
spoke to Brother John regarding
such stuff as leaning out of the
saddle to grasp a lechuguilla
stalk…usually about 7 feet long
and narrow like a fishing pole.
Then you’d ride up behind
another guide and place this
stick under his horse’s tail. Of
course the horse would clamp
his tail down and crow hop
around causing discomfort to
the rider, fear to the dudes and
mirth to us ol’ rowdy cowhands.
I mostly chose to tell him about
these old lies when I wanted to
catch my breath by sitting on a
trail side rock or stump.
Cenizo
Fourth Quarter 2010
By and by, Brother John
scooted on ahead to our camp-
ground, dropped his pack, came
back and got my pack, dropped
it off at the campground and
skipped on another 3 or 4 miles
to see the view of Méjico from
the Rim, a true world class vista
across a remote country. We
used to say you could see all the
way to next week. Guess we
thought that was a pretty cute
remark.
Since I had seen that panora-
ma daily, in all kinds of weather,
for a considerable time frame, I
decided Brother John would
enjoy contemplating such
breathtaking beauty without
being subjected to my lies.
I hiked on in the wilderness
holding to my pint water bottle.
On rounding a curve in the trail
I met a man and woman. He
checked me out and remarked
to the lady “Now that’s the way
to hike. Don’t pack nuttin’ but a
little bottle of water.”
At last, catching up with the
packs, I put up the tent, flopped
down next to the “bear box,”
and took a nap. My preference is
to travel horseback.
We camped one night down
at Boquillas, on the Rio Grande,
on account of it was a good deal
warmer than up in the Basin,
and I wanted to wade across for
a beer at the old cantina that
saved me from dying of thirst in
the days when I was accumulat-
ing lies. But we were cheated by
the U.S. Government, as ever
since 9/11 no one can cross at
Boquillas because one might be
a mad bomber/terrorist seeking
to wipe the U.S.A. off the face of
the earth or one could be a for-
eign merchant peddling illegally
imported homemade souvenirs
from Méjico to park visitors. I
still like that old country, but