hood, toilets and sinks, was our patio and
gabion wall—the first of its kind to be built
in Alpine as far as we know.
For this project, we were referred to a local
contractor who told us it would take three
weeks from start to finish. By this time, we
had heard and grown accustomed to the
phrase “Alpine time,” so we thought he
realistically meant eight weeks and we were
okay with that. After all, part of the reason
we moved here was to wind down and live
life at a much slower pace. The project
started in the beginning of February (a
month behind schedule) and we were
shocked to discover that soon the workers
would show up for a day or two and then
disappear for a week or more before
returning. Four long months later, we had
the concrete patio and a little more than half
of the wall built, but no one seemed to be
coming to work anymore. Abandoned tools
littered the yard along with a wheelbarrow,
piles of concrete (which had hardened on the
ground), and mounds of dirt and rocks were
strewn around the property. The
contractor—never an overly communicative
person—ignored my phone calls and emails.
We heard zilch from him. Finally, he
answered my last email and said he wasn’t
finishing the job. He told me that he had
underbid the work. Even though we offered
to pay for additional labor and materials, he
told me that he still didn’t want to finish. It
was a terrible, gut-wrenching feeling to be
left with completing such a momentous task
at our age. I think I was in shock, so I tried
to put my head in the desert sand and ignore
what was ahead of us.
We are 69 and 71 years old, and like many
people in far West Texas, we are both
moderately active and keep ourselves in
relatively healthy shape. But, when it comes
We are in love with this solitary
space, its people, and the calm,
rustic lifestyle out here in the
Chihuahuan Desert.
to breaking rocks in the sweltering desert
sun, I had solid doubts regarding our ability
to turn our old selves into construction
laborers. But we had to begin somewhere, so
in true Texas fashion, we began a quest to
finish our wall and would not let our age be
an obstacle.
Since moving here, we have made a
handful of friends and acquaintances who,
when they heard of our predicament, were
quick to lend a hand. We received a very
large donation of rocks which, along with
those we picked up roadside, were enough to
complete the wall. Three of us worked on the
wall: my husband broke rocks daily with a
long-handled sledgehammer, and one of the
contractor’s ex-employees—an industrious
younger woman—and I fit the rocks tightly
into the cage forming the wall. Gabion walls
are similar to working a jigsaw puzzle—
sometimes a rock simply slips seamlessly
into place and other times you have to hunt
for the perfect position or find an odd-shaped
rock to use in that spot instead. I am no
"A gabion (from Italian gabbione meaning "big cage"; from Italian
gabbia and Latin cavea meaning "cage") is a cage, cylinder or box filled with
geologist, but I came to appreciate the beauty
of each individual rock we put into that wall.
Some glistened in the sun, others had unique
colors, some patterns; and we found a few
fossils which were strategically placed so
that visitors could delight in discovering
them on their own: something unique when
“wall watching.”
Now that the gabion wall project is
complete, I can appreciate what lifting an
assorted size of rocks above your head and
working them down into the cage to form the
wall does for a human body. After a few
weeks of labor, we began to feel great and my
husband had muscles upon muscles from
wielding that mighty sledgehammer day
after day. We both agree that our workouts
building that wall were better for us than
any gym routine could ever be, and at the
end of the day there was the additional
satisfaction of a job well done. One huge pat
on the back. It’s all about turning the
negative into the positive—having an
optimistic approach to life’s unprecedented
twists and turns.
Living in the desert among the cactus has
its challenges, and we have learned to be
extremely self-reliant and patient as time
does slow down in West Texas. People who
make their home in the Big Bend area are
interesting characters that thrive on
overcoming adversity, being independent,
and, when necessary, offering help to
neighbors in need.
We are in love with this solitary space, its
people, and the calm, rustic lifestyle out here
in the Chihuahuan Desert. It might not be
for everyone, but it is definitely for us.
rocks, concrete, or sometimes sand and soil for use in civil engineering,
road building, military applications and landscaping."
Cenizo
Winter 2020
21