Books on the Texas Perimeter

I typically hike with a book and catch a few pages both on the road and curled up in my bag at the end of the day. Below are a few of the books that I bothered to lug with me, books that broke my back but helped remind me of the wonder of it all. Enjoy.

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Thalia, Texas is the fictional setting for The Last Picture Show by Larry McMurtry. It's a one-stop-light town where old habits die hard and time seems like it will stretch for an eternity. The focal point of the novel centers around the lives of its high school kids, for in their hands rests the power to break the cycle of small town existence. As the book unravels, you find out the sad and uneventful reality about its adults... that they have been trying to break the same cycle for their entire lives. A well-written and enjoyable book.
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The cover doesn't say a whole heck of a lot, but within the pages of Tales of Old-Time Texas, J.Frank Dobie (of Dobie Center fame in Austin) spins dozens of yarns he heard over the years about the Lone Star state. The stories are mostly from the 19th century and highlight the people, the animals, the weather, and tales of lost Texas treasure. My favorite chapters cover the outlaw Sam Bass, honeybees in Texas, and the Woman of the Navidad. The tales are decidedly lighthearted, but they capture the essence of an era all but lost to the passing of time. A delightful and compelling read.
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Author and sports fan H.G. Bissinger wanted in the late 80s to visit an American football stronghold, some place where the community came together and lived for the thrill of the sport. He found such a place in Odessa, TX, where each week would pull in 15,000 to 20,000 fans on Friday night. During th 1988 season, Bissinger lived in Odessa, conducted hundreds of interviews, went to every game, followed the players on the field, at school, and at home, and ultimately produced Friday Night Lights, a work of such profound journalistic depth that I had trouble not rereading the entire thing a second time. Many issues come into play, such as the intensity of the game, the sincerity of the major players and coaches, the fanaticism of the town. However, the story becomes much more compelling when issues of racism, grade tampering, and community harassment are woven into the story, glaring and as bright as those Friday night lights. A fantastic piece of non-fiction and a must-read.
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Until we meet again...

The Panther's Scream

I'm a city person. I like to think of myself as a small city person, but the years in my life in a big city like Austin or Corpus far outnumber my years in Montana towns and Guinea villages combined. This all amounts to a certain kind of conditioning, of which I am generally not made aware of, until there is a disturbance of such magnitude that I am forced to re-evaluate exactly where I am from and what I am made of.

I recently heard a panther scream. It did not cry or whine or growl or sniff or any of a variety of things that critters are known to do. It screamed loud and long. Though my hearing is not the best, I approximate that it was no further than twenty yards away.

This had an incalculable effect on my city boy upbringing. It didn't matter any more that I've read hundreds of books, gone to college, or know how to make homemade chocolate croissants. What mattered was that I was in the moment, calm and collected, and could react to whatever happened next.

Yeah, right. That attitude lasted for fifteen seconds tops.

I happened to be hiking with a book with a chapter on panthers. Tales of Old-Time Texas by J. Frank Dobie is a really fun book under normal circumstances. I opened it to a chapter called "The Panther's Scream." The chapter starts like this:

"A hundred years ago and more, a settler on the Trinity River cut down a bee tree. Its crash to the ground broke the silence of the forest. Immediately a high scream from a panther in the distance responded, and out of mockery the man screamed back. The panther replied, nearer now. The man quit mocking to listen, but a panther's movements, even on the forest's leafy floor, make no sound. The man had no idea that the panther was so near until he saw it spring upon the stump of the felled tree."

I had to put the book down.

Fortunately, I was surrounded by plants and trees. I was able to take an inventory of them, as I kept shining my headlamp outside of my netting every few moments. I had to consciously relax. They can smell fear, I thought to myself.

I did relax, but it wasn't until some time passed that I heard a scream far in the distance that I was able to get any rest at all. And even then, it was a pitiful excuse for repose.