I have seen the real El Paso
Published: 12/30/2009 7:03 PM
Last Modified: 12/30/2009 7:03 PM
EL PASO, Texas — Wow.
Few words can do greater justice to the past three hours.
Having finally gotten out from under seemingly endless deadlines — the Sun Bowl is now about 18 hours away — I was at long last able to experience just a touch of El Paso.
I have witnessed the most striking sunset ever.
I set out at mid-afternoon for a westward jaunt up Scenic Drive, the winding road that overlooks El Paso on the south edge of the Franklin Mountains.
I followed Rim Road, past a neighborhood of multi-million dollar mansions. (So that's where Sherman Hemsley really moved up to. No, really, the former "The Jeffersons" lead actor reportedly lives in El Paso.)
I jumped back on I-10 north to the Transmountain Highway, then cut back east through the mountains. "The Pass", which gave the city below its name, is a geologic fault line that cuts through the mountains. Ancient peoples and Old West settlers used to use on their journeys between water to the west and the desert basin to the east.
Today, more contemporary wagon trains — I saw a Corvette, two Mini Coopers, a Camaro, a Challenger and even a Ferrari — use it to enjoy their motor cars.
The air was warm and bathed in bright sunlight. The recent snow had melted, all but a few flakes on the north side of the mountain slopes.
As I descended some 2,000 feet and headed back south into El Paso, I decided to forego the hotel and keep driving. I was quickly back on I-10 heading west toward downtown. To my left was Juarez, Mexico.
Once downtown, I resolved to find the border. Not in possession of a passport, and not owning a death wish, I wasn't about to cross it. But just skirting back and forth on the Cesar Chavez Border Highway, looking at the double-wide, barbed-wire fence and gazing at the gargantuan flag of Mexico floating in the breeze was kind of fun. I found a memorial park nearby and saw an agave tree nearly as big as my rental car.
As the sun began to settle toward the Juarez Mountains, I eventually made it back toward downtown.
I noticed a bank of edgeless clouds rolling southward off the Franklins over the city, and as the setting sun intensified, the clouds, now overhead and thinning out, began to change to a brilliant gold.
As I drove eastward on Montana Avenue back toward the hotel, the sky in front of me darkened into a deep purple, just overhead it was a heavy blue, and behind me it was a trillion spotlights of pure gold. The clouds, now wispy and stretched like pulled-apart cotton candy, were awash in purple, pink, red and gold.
By the time I had reached my hotel, the 2.7 million citizens of Juarez down below had already begun to flicker and twinkle into their nighttime existence.
Wow.
— John E. Hoover
Written by
John E. Hoover
Sports Columnist
