Texas: Shooting in the Badlands by Rowena Carr-Allinson
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‘Nice Shooting, Miss!’ I heard though my muffling blue earplugs. Our host smiled at me encouragingly. This was not, I thought, a phrase I was expecting to hear during my lifetime. Here I was standing in the middle of nowhere, Texas, in front of a full range of targets. Having just completed my first round of cowboy action shooting, the worrying thing was that I was really enjoying it.
This isn’t my usual Sunday afternoon. I’m a million miles away from civilisation at an old Texan outpost that has been converted into a luxurious resort town on the Rio Grande. Essentially this slightly surreal resort set on the edge of Big Bend National Park is a 200,000 acre playground for Dallas millionaires who fly down by private jet for the weekend.
Something For The Weekend
Lajitas is a hideout for those seeking to sample the cowboy lifestyle in movie-like surroundings without compromising on comfort. And it works, as soon as you arrive you find yourself slipping into cowboy mode. Dubbed ‘the ultimate hideout’, it’s all about imbibing the Western atmosphere from the old town Boardwalk to the Trading Post.
But worry not, we might be lost in the Texan badlands but Lajitas comes complete with everything you’d need for a vacation. From a spa offering desert scrubs, a gourmet restaurant where cowboy cuisine takes on new meaning serving up everything from traditional Mexican dishes to rattlesnake cakes, and an ‘international’ golf course.
The 11a hole is optional but will allow you to tee off in the US and aim for a ‘one par’ in Mexico. And there’s no trying again. Once your ball is out there it stays there. Strict new border patrol laws mean there is no attempting to cross the Rio Grande to recover your little white ball. Other activities range from nature walks to canoeing on the Rio Grande and of course shooting.
Having ridden out, western style on oversized saddles, across some jaw-droppingly beautiful countryside we’d stopped to have our well deserved cowboy breakfast at the Stargazer Mesa. Scrambled eggs with a touch of spice, fried potatoes and freshly baked scone-style biscuits with honey butter were topped off with fresh strawberries and strong cowboy-style boiled coffee – all from tin cups and plates of course. Though, the luxury of linen napkins didn’t go amiss.
Playing With Guns
Then it was time to play with guns. Guns that fire shots. Shotguns. How would an urban Londoner like me fair in this blistering heat, out here where the buzzards circle and the closest grocery store is an hour’s drive away?
Well. According to Sheriff Richard, an old hand at the art, and the representative of law and order, I did pretty good ‘for a woman’. Gaining the nickname of Annie Oakley I was obviously doing something right. Not bad for the skinny kid who was always the last to be picked out for any sports team.
Aiming for the rusty hanging tin plates, I pulled the trigger. The explosion came as quite a surprise the first time around, but the satisfying ‘pling’ of bullet against target soon prevailed. Next up came the rifle, with a lot more recoil it was uncomfortable to say the least but by the third round I was firing them off like an old hand. The sheriff’s running commentary didn’t help. Giggling and aiming are not compatible. ”Go on shoot’em baddies coming at you!”. Talk about putting a girl off.
The race was on, combining accuracy and speed: the aim is to hit as many targets in record time. Call it beginner’s luck but, through some divine intervention, I only missed two targets shooting with a 45 pistol, a rifle and a shotgun. Excellent stuff.
After the first round I was glad to see that our party of four’s money was on me, Annie Oakley. That would give me something to write about. Who’d have thought? Perhaps borrowing a Stetson-style straw hat gave me that extra confidence. Suffice to say it was a different woman who rode back home that day.
An Awesome Landscape
The rugged terrain classified as desert is strewn with cactus and shrubs and speckled with dried out creeks. But the wilderness looks surprisingly green. Recent rainfall had given the vegetation a new lease of life. Prickly pear, Ocotillo and thorny bushes poked defiantly from the glowing dirt. As we rode out along narrow tracks, pale golden Lajitas rock provided shade from the dangerous looking bluffs high above.
This barren area is home to coyote, mountain lion and a variety of snakes including rattle snakes; though those only come out to feed at dawn and at dusk. Should that reassure me? We spot coyote tracks in the humid sand by a creek. Is this for real? It’s simply awesome; in the world’s real meaning: never ending horizon, jagged mountains stretching on forever and the deep blue skies. This is real cowboy country. I’m not surprised to hear movies like ‘The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada’ and series including ‘Lonesome Dove’ are filmed in the area.
The humid heat is a knock out but luckily, the dappled clouds spare us the blistering sunshine. At high noon the ride back is thirsty work. Even the horses are in a hurry to get back. Ruby, Geronimo, Colonel and Abbie have had enough.
I’ve made full cowboy conversion. I’m dreaming of a cold beer at the Thirsty Goat Saloon, the bar named after Lajitas’ four-legged mayor. Indeed Clay Henry is a beer-guzzling goat. No, really. This is just another quirk which will appear to be totally normal after you’ve been in this unusual part of the world for a couple of days.
And the best part is that you get the boots, the Stetson and the star-filled night but you can sleep in five star accommodation. Annie Oakley wouldn’t be proud.