12-16-09 Sabinal, Texas

I called up my buddy, Mo, prior to departing from Colorado to see if he'd be around as I passed through his neck of the woods in Texas.  Mo and I became friends at CSU while sharing numerous engineering classes together and ended up doing our senior design project together as well.  Mo's real name is Mikel Olander, though I really can't remember calling him by anything other than what his initials spell.

Mo comes from a farming family near Loveland, Colorado though has been living in west Texas since graduation, running Texas Pickle, a cucumber planting and harvesting operation.  He's designed and built an array of machines and contraptions to pick, sort and ship raw cucumbers. Not your average 9-5 job exactly.  After harvest, the future pickles are moved through several water-filled tanks and sorted by size with various gauges before being moved along with water wheels and converyor belts to their appropriate boxes await shipping.

Mo insisted that I stop by his place, even though he wouldn't be there.  He gave me a long list of directions, only once actually stating a street name.  Directions were given in relation to various old truck stops, new gas stations and forks in the road which would ultimately lead me to the blue house with white trim and a red door with the smashed-up mailbox on the front porch. 

He also told me where to find the key he'd left for me and also how to turn on the water and electricty and noted that the deep freeze was stocked full of food as well as a variety of venison sausages he'd recently harvested.  RC Cola and Coors yellow-bellies were in the fridge, guns are in the closet and ammo is by the water heater.  "Make yourself at home Ben, stay as long as you'd like."  Southern hospitality at its finest.  Thanks Mo!

The house was great, tons of motorcycle and 4x4 magazines, leather working tools, random gun parts here and there and a total of 7 bullet holes in the windows.  The place was surrounded by pastureland with a large herd of goats that grazed themselves around the property daily.

I was pleased to find how quiet things were at the house, nothing but the occasional bird or goat speaking up.  The front porch faced west and I was fortunate to spend all three evenings watching the sun set.