referred to a local contractor
who told us it would take
three weeks from start to
finish. By this time, we had
heard
and
grown
accustomed to the phrase
“Alpine time,” so we thought
he realistically meant eight
weeks and we were okay
with that. After all, part of
the reason we moved here
was to wind down and live
life at a much slower pace.
The project started in the
beginning of February (a
month behind schedule) and
we were shocked to discover
that soon the workers would
show up for a day or two and
then disappear for a week or
more before returning. Four
long months later, we had
the concrete patio and a
little more than half of the
wall built, but no one
seemed to be coming to work
anymore. Abandoned tools
littered the yard along with
a wheelbarrow, piles of
concrete
(which
had
hardened on the ground),
and mounds of dirt and
rocks were strewn around
the
property.
The
contractor—never an overly
communicative
person—
ignored my phone calls and
emails. We heard zilch from
him. Finally, he answered
my last email and said he
wasn’t finishing the job. He
told me that he had
underbid the work. Even
though we offered to pay for
additional
labor
and
materials, he told me that he
still didn’t want to finish. It
was
a
terrible,
gut-
wrenching feeling to be left
with completing such a
momentous task at our age.
I think I was in shock, so I
tried to put my head in the
desert sand and ignore what
was ahead of us.
We are 69 and 71 years
old, and like many people in
far West Texas, we are both
moderately active and keep
ourselves
in
relatively
healthy shape. But, when it
comes to breaking rocks in
the sweltering desert sun, I
had solid doubts regarding
our ability to turn our old
selves into construction
laborers. But we had to
begin somewhere, so in true
Texas fashion, we began a
quest to finish our wall and
would not let our age be an
obstacle.
Since moving here, we
have made a handful of
friends and acquaintances
who, when they heard of our
predicament, were quick to
lend a hand. We received a
very large donation of rocks
which, along with those we
picked up roadside, were
enough to complete the wall.
Three of us worked on the
wall: my husband broke
rocks daily with a long-
handled sledgehammer, and
one of the contractor’s ex-
employees—an industrious
younger woman—and I fit
the rocks tightly into the
cage forming the wall.
Gabion walls are similar to
working a jigsaw puzzle—
sometimes a rock simply
slips seamlessly into place
and other times you have to
hunt for the perfect position
or find an odd-shaped rock to
use in that spot instead. I
am no geologist, but I came
to appreciate the beauty of
each individual rock we put
into that wall. Some
glistened in the sun, others
had unique colors, some
patterns; and we found a few
fossils
which
were
strategically placed so that
visitors could delight in
"A gabion (from Italian gabbione meaning "big cage";
from Italian gabbia and Latin cavea meaning "cage") is a cage,
cylinder or box filled with rocks, concrete, or sometimes sand
and soil for use in civil engineering, road building, military
applications and landscaping."
WestTexasMoves.com • BigBendRealEstateGuide.com
discovering them on their
own: something unique
when “wall watching.”
Now that the gabion wall
project is complete, I can
appreciate what lifting an
assorted size of rocks above
your head and working them
down into the cage to form
the wall does for a human
body. After a few weeks of
labor, we began to feel great
and my husband had
muscles upon muscles from
wielding
that
mighty
sledgehammer day after
day. We both agree that our
workouts building that wall
were better for us than any
gym routine could ever be,
and at the end of the day
there was the additional
satisfaction of a job well
done. One huge pat on the
back. It’s all about turning
the negative into the
positive—having
an
optimistic approach to life’s
unprecedented twists and
turns.
Living in the desert among
the cactus has its challenges,
and we have learned to be
extremely self-reliant and
patient as time does slow
down in West Texas. People
who make their home in the
Big
Bend
area
are
interesting characters that
thrive
on
overcoming
adversity,
being
independent, and, when
necessary, offering help to
neighbors in need.
We are in love with this
solitary space, its people,
and the calm, rustic lifestyle
out here in the Chihuahuan
Desert. It might not be for
everyone, but it is definitely
for us.
Reprinted from the January
2020 edition of the Cenizo
Journal.
See more and subscribe at
www.CenizoJournal.com.
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