Those Aren't Your Footprints? Traveling Special Roads


"CRESTING WILD ROSE PASS"    9' x 25" pastel on Wallis museum-grade paper   
$1500 by Lindy Cook Severns 2007
available October 15 2007 at Kiowa Gallery, 105 E Holland Ave. Alpine, TX   (432) 837-3067   framed under museum glass

We once had a Patagonian conure, a pigeon-sized parrot with a scream several decibles above that of a smoke detector with fresh batteries. A worthy traveler, Pepper happily accompanied us on vacations. The first time we took her to the Davis Mountains, she shared her obvious delight at the increasingly awe-inspiring scenery we passed through. Her coos and clucks and happy chatter amused us, and we wondered if the palisading cliffs and ever-closing-in mountains reminded her of her former rocky home at the tip of South America. As we began the long climb past Star Mountain and up Wild Rose Pass, the premature dusk experienced wherever mountains swallow the setting sun descended on the highway, throwing our route into sudden shadow. Pepper screamed. And screamed. Panicked, she waddled to the corner of her travel cage, where she continued her screaming. With that sometimes embarrassing insight gifted to people who share their lives with companion animals, we realized she was warning us not to continue in the dark. A journey once delightful to her had become instinctively dangerous. Having headlights, we soothed her as best we could, and we continued into Davis Mountain State Park to set up camp.

Pepper had a terrific vacation, especially once we settled her into the motorhome and hooked up cable TV for her viewing pleasure. But every time we crest Wild Rose Pass, we remember her daylight coos and her urgent screams at dusk. And that memory makes me wonder how other travelers felt as they wound through those same mountains, whether at twilight or by light of day. Excited at propects of starting a new life in this wild country? Frightened by the seemingly endless cracks and crannies in which who-knew-what could hide in wait? Awestruck by the vast terrain, as modern tourists surely are?  Almost everyone who visits us speaks of the beautiful drive in from Balmorhea. Some landscapes are special, as is this one. Many travelers have left their tracks here. Whether you're coming or going, Wild Rose Pass is not land you cross with blind indifference.

There are no roses. Perhaps there never were. Some think the Pass takes its name from Apache Plume bushes that flourish and blossom there. And the original, less spectacular pass into the mountains followed the creekbed's dark cliffs around the mountain's base. (Flooding and constant mud prompted the re-route.) None of this history diminishes the route's magnificence. What matters to me is that when I crest Wild Rose Pass, I am passing between worlds, as have so many others before me. That's why, when I painted it this time, I saw not a highway but a deeply rutted wagon road through sunflowers and Apache Plume. A special place. We are always running to something, or, from something. And sometimes, as we run, we are lucky enough to leave our footprints on such places.

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Comments

  • 10/23/2007 9:39 AM Sandy Bennett wrote:
    I love your stories and your artwork. I went to Big Bend last Feb. with the Outdoor Painters Society group. I was totally blown away with it's magnificence. How lucky you are to live where you do. Hopefully my sister (who lives in Rosebud,TX) and I can go back again for the next paintout in that area. We call it "our carrot" - as in, the carrot in front of the mule which keeps it movin' forward.
    Reply to this
    1. 10/23/2007 5:59 PM Lindy C Severns wrote:
      How lucky you are to be able to paint with your sister! Mine paints (she's talented, and should paint more than she does) but she lives in Calgary and we have too little time together. She's coming to Alpine for Gallery Night this November tho.  That was one of my "carrots", incentive to paint as many good paintings as I could so she can see the originals while she's here. Carrots are very healthy for artists!!
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