|A community of 1096 residents, and just as many ordinances.|
I’ve never taken the time to ponder this question before, but how many ways are there to explore a place unknown to you? One can consult the expert guidebooks and websites before the trip and plan ahead. (Such was the case with the Ranching Heritage Museum which we learned about by watching Red Stegal’s RFDTV show.) One can ask a local– or better yet, ask a local to be your guide to the little known gems in his community or region. (An excellent approach when off the English-speaking beaten path.) Or one can buy a map and plot out one’s own adventure. [Or, one can forgo maps and just wing it.]
I don’t think there’s any need to debate the virtues of one over the others, so long as your repertoire of place exploration includes them all. [Including winging it, on occasion. Nothing like being lost teaches the value of a good map.]
We picked up a map of Lubbock County. Mr. Big Food’s attention was immediately drawn to the blue parts– the water. So we went in search of water.
The price-tag turned us off the first lake. $6.00 per individual to see a lake? Are you kidding me? So we turned around and headed toward another splotch of blue.
|Across the street from the “Welcome” sign. Please note that I did not leave the paved highway to take this photograph.|
I don’t know the crops of this region of Texas, but these acres, planted in some blond grass, were unlike any we’d seen closer to Lubbock. Lovely.
|Water in the canyon.|
This was quite a sight! Lubbock and surrounds are shades of brown. See, for example, Shallowater.
|Ransom Canyon is blue… and green!|
We were probably violating some ordinance here. But we took care to keep two wheels on the road while we got out of our tiny little rental car to enjoy the view.
|And get a closer look,|
|thanks to the camera’s zoom.|
And that’s when we turned and discovered this.
|Note, once again, that we did not leave the paved road.|
|Not even when we turned around and saw this.|
Having had a few good laughs, we proceeded to get back on the highway
|descend into the canyon|
|and come up on the other side,|
on our way to another map-inspired exploration of Lubbock County, Texas.
As it turns out, had I done some research beforehand, I’d have learned that near Lubbock was an exclusive community of big-name architect’s houses inhabited by a handful of folks who make way more money than the Texas median, and where Vogue had done a recent shoot– models standing on the roof of the brown house & all. The community sits on the rim of a canyon and drifts down its sides.
I’d have reported this to Mr. Big Food.
And if we had planned what we wanted to see & do in Lubbock County, Texas, we’d have rejected this out of hand. (See the Vogue link.)
But I didn’t. We discovered Ransom Canyon all on our own. Untainted by Vogue and Ranson Canyon’s pages and pages and pages of ordinances dictating what its 1096 inhabitants can & cannot do.
To be clear. I’m all for Localism. You want to live in Ransom Canyon, in Lubbock County, TEXAS, go for it.
No dogs shall be permitted to run at large within the city. All dogs shall be confined on the premises owned or under the control of their owners at all times. Dogs on a leash, however, shall not be construed as running at large, provided such leash is either attached to an immovable object or firmly grasped and at all times within the control of a person physically able to maintain control of such dog. (Ordinance 9, sec. 2, adopted 6/27/78)
Dang. I’m so tired. We were up at 4:30 and all I wanted to do was post this post and go to bed and here are the dogs yappying at my heels.
Missy: So you’re saying that I couldn’t run free in Texas?
Me: No. You can’t run free in Ransom Canyon, Texas, according to the ordinances.
Missy: In Texas?
Me: In Ransom Canyon, Texas.
Missy: Yes. But I thought you told me Texas was free.
Mr. Big Food: C’mer Missy. Missy! C’mer
Me: Settle down. We don’t live in Texas. We live in Mizippi.
Me: Good point, Rocky.
Missy: I’m not lettin’ this go.
Me: Drop it, Missy. Drop it.