A few weeks ago we drove to the little town of Shallowater, out on the Clovis Highway, and looked for the downtown area. We could not find it. Last weekend we tried again, with our cameras, and made a surprising discovery. This new photo series documents the drive. My wife even took pics "on the road", to provide a sense of what one sees in this area, just driving around. A lot of these road pics were taken in Lubbock.
The surprising discovery was, when we took the pics above, we were IN downtown Shallowater. There is really nothing there! There will be more pics to come, and I'll explain how we learned Shallowater's strange secret.
The next series will feature Shallowater, the town with no downtown!
This F-105 flew 200 combat missions!
Apollo capsule boilerplate, used to determine flotation characteristics.
Wide open spaces!
More of the same!
Some very interesting stuff here!
Buckeye trainer at Air Museum just outside Slaton.
An old two-seat F-101!
Phantom jet!
Above, you see something of historical interest that my wife spotted: it is a vintage South Western Bell utility manhole lid. This dates back to before the infamous breakup. Was THAT ever a bad decision! This was in downtown Slaton, in front of an old telephone switching center that is probably still in use. My wife knows a lot about such things.
F4 canopy-- I assume the ejection seat was disarmed...
This old Navy Jet was something new.
This poor old F-14 is slowly sinking into the ground. The Tomcat was pretty much a fiasco. What the Navy needed was the F-18. The swing wing idea died hard.
Slaton is laid out funny. That's just the way it is. You might find five streets coming together in a ragged star-shaped intersection, with some streets one way and others not, stop signs here and yield signs there, and if you want to make a right it might be a HARD right of 120 degrees. Many buildings in Slaton's downtown area are wedge-shaped to accommodate the ridiculous street plan. Whose idea was that?
On the other hand, you can buy some good German sausage there. If you crave beef jerky, go to Slaton. Try not to have a wreck. My wife used to live in Slaton and she informs me that the local cops are jerks. Think of "In The Heat Of The Night". Think Archie Bunker in uniform. Do not get crosswise with the law in Slaton is probably good advice. We drove around trying to locate what my wife refers to as the MEAN BANK. It's still there but it's changed its name. Probably as mean as it was when my wife tried to deal with them, years ago. Merciless. Sarcastic. Rude. My wife detests Slaton, and she has good reasons to. But we ventured there to take pictures. We also go to the annual sausage festival at a local Catholic church. The food is too good to stay away.