I have driven from one side of Hobbs, New Mexico through west Texas more than once and am always thankful I do not have to wake up here on a daily basis. It is windy and trash is picked up and sticks to trees, weeds, and barbed wire. It is an oil oasis and smells like oil. You can see forever and it looks the same, save for the occasional irrigated cotton field.
We were traveling through and decided to stay in Abilene and had passed by before we realized it. We found a quaint spot in Eastland, a town that I had not heard of. The Eastland Historic Inn was built in 1918. You check yourself in on line. No one tends the lobby. The rooms were nice, they had snacks and games in the hotel, and there were nice decor and pictures. Next door was a historic theater still open and showing "Puss in Boots". We had a good meal and homemade carrot cake at the Red Star Cafe. The next day we walked around town and looked at some of the outdoor art exhibits. A story of horned toad, Rip, who was buried in an Eastland time capsule for 31 years and survived, is a persistent tale of the town.
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