If you’ve been reading my blog from the beginning, you already know I’ve been friends with Bill for over fifty years. In 2000, my dog Kasey and I took the RV down to Houston, Texas, to visit him. We decided to head out to Big Bend National Park for a camping trip.
How would I describe Big Bend? The first words that come to mind are big, unique, and beautiful. The next word is remote—very remote.
When I say the park is big, that’s an understatement. The only terrestrial radio stations you can pick up aren’t in English, and the only newspaper available is yesterday’s copy of USA Today.
That’s how far out you are.
On our way into the region, we stopped for gas at a full-service station. It was Bill’s turn to pay, and while he was chatting with the attendant, the guy asked if we were heading to the Terlingua Chili Cook-Off. Bill said no and asked what it was about.
The attendant leaned in and said,
“Señor… it’s a chili cook-off with lots and lots of drinking.”
That description didn’t really do it justice.
I would describe it as a country-western Woodstock. (And yes, I’m definitely dating myself with that analogy.)
It wasn’t just chili and beer. There were “show teams” who cooked their chili and performed skits to compete for prizes. Bill, Kasey, and I soon figured out that there was a loop you could walk: taste chili, watch performances, people-watch, have another beer, and repeat. By the time you finished the loop, you were ready to start all over again. And trust me—we made plenty of trips.
After the cook-off judging wrapped up, they held the Miss and Mr. Terlingua contests. The Mr. Terlingua contest was pretty tame. The Miss Terlingua contest—that was a wet T-shirt contest. Enough said.
Across the road from the cook-off was a little tourist shop and the Starlight Dinner Theater. Hell, it’s the only restaurant in the area. Bill and I headed inside to grab something to eat, and before long, we found ourselves talking with a young woman and her boyfriend at a nearby table. She told us she had competed in the Miss Terlingua contest and had lost. She was devastated about it.
Now, how do you comfort someone who lost a wet T-shirt contest? I had no idea. I was completely out of my depth.
As I’m trying to think of something—anything—to say, she suddenly lifts her shirt and asks:
“Don’t you think these are winners?”
I’m not a prude, but at that moment I was really out of words. I mumbled something like, “Yeah… they seem pretty nice and definitely look like winners to me,” and hoped that counted as consolation.
Big Bend has plenty more to offer, and we did some exploring. But nothing—and I mean nothing—compared to the Terlingua Chili Cook-Off experience.
Before we wrap up this week’s story, I’d love to hear from you. Have you ever been to Big Bend, Terlingua, or a wild small-town festival that left you with stories you still tell years later? Feel free to share your memories or thoughts in the comments below—I always enjoy reading them and hearing about your adventures, too.
…to be continued.