day two: meeting coast to coast dan

Tuesday June 29
Start time: 9:49 a.m. Marfa, Texas
End time: 6:20 p.m. Santa Fe, NM
Total Miles: 530

Day two was a busy day on the road. After many rotations on the odometer, we finally made it out of the great state of Texas. But first, we had our eyes peeled Tuesday morning, looking for the Prada Marfa building on the highway between Marfa and the next tiny town, Valentine.

Prada Marfa is an art project planted in the middle of nowhere Texas in 2005 – it is a store front that has no working doors, contains real prada shoes and handbags from the 2005 season. It is one of the most photographed stores in the world, apparently. Upon googling it recently, I read several different editorials questioning its purpose, who was behind the project, etc. The sign says that two artists teemed with an architect as just a fun project to promote art and style in an otherwise rural area.

Some people say that the Prada Foundation claims to have nothing to do with the structure, that it would be using art to advertise, which would be wrong, rude even to the people of Marfa. But, one article asked, when is art advertising? When is advertising art? An interesting question, but really, I’m not sure I cared on Tuesday. I was just excited to be standing at a weird, much-talked about building that I had seen in Texas Monthly and other publications.

We looked around and snapped a few pictures, about to climb back in the car bound for Santa Fe, when a guy on a bike approached from the opposite direction we were traveling. He pulled his bike to a stop and asked if we’d like him to take our picture together. “Um, sure,” I walked over to him with Frere Jacques (my camera.) I squinted at him in the morning sunlight, immediately noticing the heavy trailer he was pulling behind his bicycle, a box of Wheat Thins strapped right on top. I also immediately took notice of the pistol tucked into his cycling short’s waistband. (During the forty minute conversation that followed with this man, Coast-to-Coast Dan, my mom never noticed he was packing heat.)

“Are you with the bikers we passed a few miles ago?” I asked this fifty-plus year old stranger.
“Oh, no, I’m not with them. I met them last night. They’re too young and too fast for me. One of them beat cancer, so they’re riding together as a ride for the cure.”
“Are they riding from California to Florida? Are you?”
“Ya, we’re all riding coast to coast. I started in Cali, I’ll end up in Florida. That’s where I’m from.”
“That’s so awesome!!” My mom enthusiastically piped up. Dan proceeded to take our picture as he laughed at the Prada Marfa. He hadn’t heard about it before, but, much as the other cars that stopped when they past it, found it hilarious and definitely worthy of a photo stop.

Dan continued to tell us that he was riding across the country via bicycle, he had been in a three year relationship with a wonderful woman in Florida, but they had split up and he had given her his whole heart, everything he had.

“Well, that is so good! That is so healthy!” My mom waved her hands in the air as she spoke. “I think that is so much better than drinking away your problems or just staying in your house upset – what a healthy, cool way to work that out!”

Oh, here we go, I thought. Dan seemed nice enough, cool even, but I had a folder in the car with timetables on it. We had miles to make and I didn’t my mom talking to this dude for an hour. Which is kind of what happened… After he told us several cool stories about people he had met thus far on his journey, he even quoted scripture at one point, we got in the car.
“He was such a neat guy! How crazy that we met him at Prada in Marfa.” I said.
“He was awesome!” my mom said, climbing in the passenger seat.

“True, but next time, if you’re going to be twenty minutes late getting started, we cannot spend forty minutes talking to bicyclists with pistols in their pants.”

“We only talked for ten minutes and he did not have a gun!” Oh, mother. Your concept of time amazes me.

I was wiping the windshield in Van Horn, a little south of El Paso, when a Lockheed Martin trailer and suburban pulled into the gas pump next to me. The guy was probably way too old for me (like late 30s but who’s asking) and I couldn’t help but notice he was quite handsome. A little old lady walked over, nosily inquiring about his giant trailer. “Are you headed down to clean up the gulf sir??”
“No,” he laughed and looked over at me. “I’m going to meet with border patrol, this our new line of surveillance equipment. I’m a sales rep.” She kept talking to him and I figured I should stop staring. He smiled and nodded as I pulled away and I couldn’t help but think it would be really cool to hang out with a Lockheed Martin sales rep who pitches presentations to US Border Patrol.

Next we headed to El Paso and Santa Fe. I’ll have to fill you in later about that – though I have been to Mexico more than a few times, I was shocked to see the contrast in El Paso and Juarez, just because of a river and fence. Lives are so different on each side. I had to wip out the pen and journal to jot some thoughts down lest my brain explode.

(Before leaving El Paso though, we supported the economy by shopping at the Lucchese outlet. Lucchese boots, oh how I love thee. Too much, I know.)
We arrived in Santa Fe that evening. When Mom and I were strolling the square, I asked a nice looking man to take our picture. Not only did he inadequately push the shutter release and we did not get a picture out of the deal, he followed us around the square demanding to know if we were really sisters. Surely, you’re sisters. Nope. Surely. Nope. Goodbye, sir. And goodbye, blog world.