One of the things I love about traveling in the van is seeing where our resources come from.
Be it the vast cornfields of Nebraska, the nut trees in New Mexico, the leafy greens in the Arizona desert, or the wind farms of Palm Springs— seeing the way the country makes its food, its energy, and taps its resources has always been interesting to me.
Which is why rolling through Odessa, Texas, and the Permian Basin was fascinating.
First of all, it’s stark as all get-out. This area of Texas is barren as far as the eye can see— and it’s unforgiving— simply stepping out of my van to get breakfast meant stepping in some nasty thorns, which I spent several minutes picking out of the bottom of my soles with tweezers.
Second, there’s literally oil pumps or natural gas taps EVERYWHERE. The concentration of oil in this area means that even private citizens who own small parcels often have oil rigs clanking away in their backyard. And of course, there are also huge commercial enterprises.
I was astonished to see a rig placed right alongside the diner I stopped at for breakfast.
The town was thick with the smell of petroleum, and also smelled slightly of burning— but of course, the nose adjusts quickly— and I lost the smell within minutes of arriving. Which, in some ways, was just as disconcerting: going ‘nose-blind’ to a toxic smell seemed dangerous somehow, whether that was true or not.
It’s easy to notice the preponderance of white trucks dotting the landscape— light exterior paint and interior colors keep the beating sun slightly more at-bay, I suppose. These heavy-duty and super-duty trucks belong to the (mostly men) working in the oil fields and oil processing plants, the latter of which spring up in small towns.
Or should I say, the small towns spring up around the refineries, not the other way around.
These towns of dudes-in-tricked-out-trucks in the middle of nowhere was pretty reminiscent of traveling in the center of Australia, where the mines are rich with minerals and the towns contain men who came expressly to seek a fortune working within them. Oil works in the same way, thousands of miles from Oz.
The lack of gender balance in the town was clear— when stopping at a gas pump, I received some long looks from the gentlemen fueling up their rigs. Which isn’t atypical, since my van is an off-road-capable vehicle, and men like to ask questions about it— but the looks were longer this time, enough to make me a little uncomfortable, despite understanding the circumstances around it all.
The work must be sweltering, as little or no shade exists— the scrub-brush hardly growing enough to squat under for a moment’s relief. The basic necessities in town didn’t look to provide much comfort, either. It was a hardscrabble area, likely full of folks making more money than they even could spend in such a desolate place.
Unless you count fast food, Family Dollar, and cheap Chinese buffets— there wasn’t much commerce other than dive bars advertising yellow beer specials.
These towns— Odessa, Midland, and those surrounding— were made famous by the book Friday Night Lights, and subsequent movies and TV shows. The religion of Texas football does run strongly throughout the state, so that didn’t feel particular to this area: BUT the lack of any other meaningful activity (other than organized religion) was desperately clear when around these areas.
The lack of anything else could easily convert one into a football acolyte. Or maybe a truck fanatic.
I didn’t stay long in Odessa, as it’s the kind of town that most are happy to pass through, and I had other destinations in-mind. Though my stopover was a reminder that every time we fill our tanks, we rely on these individuals to extract, refine, and ship the gasoline we use daily.
They get their hands— and their lungs— dirty, so we don’t have to.
Given that I fill my tank more than ever before, living in my van full-time, I know what I owe to these places: Odessa makes my van move. I expressed gratitude for my ability to simultaneously appreciate what the town wrought while also escaping the fumes, heat, and isolation after a short stay.
We all owe something to Odessans.
Posted by Sun
