“But he’s still out there ridin’ fences,
Still makes his livin’ with his rope,
And as long as there’s a sunset;
He’ll keep ridin’ for the brand,
You just can’t see him from the road”…
–Chris LeDoux
On the west side of Croton Peak in Big Bend National Park is a fence line, or what is left of one. It runs from the bluffs below the highest point all the way down to the mouth of what is known by some as Slickrock Canyon. There is where it appears to end, amid the other remains of a mix of cultures that likely date back to a prehistoric era.
This fence line is bisected by the vanishing traces of an old wagon road that ran not too far away from where this photo was taken. Slickrock Canyon is easily passable on foot and also navigable on a horse, if it’s a good one and the rider has sense enough to let his mount pick his way.
But any wheeled conveyance during the time in question was not possible, so they built a wagon road around. It took a good deal of manual labor to put that road through, as it runs along the lower reaches of the mountain itself, and down either side. The road was necessary as a route north into Onion Flat, and to reach now mostly gone water tanks, windmills, hand dug wells and water pipelines along the way.
Nowadays the route is only a trace in spots and at certain times of year is best defined by the beds of blue bonnets along the way. The fill dirt used for leveling the surface makes for a more fertile environment than the craggy, rock strewn acreage all around.
When Lone Star Literary Life asked about a play list for my historical novel of the lower Big Bend, ‘Destiny’s Way,’ a song immediately popped into mind. It was Chris LeDoux’s ‘You Just Can’t See Him From The Road.’ Most of us know the tune better by its unofficial title ‘Ridin’ Fences.’
Chris LeDoux was a man of unbelievable gifts and talents, and he made the most of them in the years that God granted him. More so, when I use the descriptor ‘man,’ he fully fit the bill in the truest meaning of the word. Cowboy, world champion bareback rider, sculptor, and platinum worthy singer-songwriter, Chris left us way too soon at the hands of a rare disease that many have not heard of and can’t even pronounce. But before he did, he left a legacy to be proud of behind him.
‘Ridin’ Fences’ was released in 1992 as part of his album ‘Whatcha Gonna Do With a Cowboy.’ The title song received a great deal of air play and rightfully so, but for many of us who were raised or still live on a real ranch someplace, ‘Ridin’ Fences’ was the one our hearts reached out to. If you have ever ridden a fence line, repaired one, or had to round up livestock in bad weather because someone left a gap open, you understand those lyrics in their full measure.
Furthermore and in an even starker, more poignant light, you remember those who held true to the code and have since passed through the veil and into the world beyond. Over the past several generations, my family has been replete with such men as well as their peers.
And when the lyrics to this song drifted through my mind, the scene in this photo came along with it.
Because somewhere, someone is still out there ridin’ fences.
Even if it may only be a ghost…
Ben H. English
Alpine, Texas
(The link to my favorite version of this song follows below)
Front Street Books
Creative Texts Publishers
Crockett County Public Library
Medina Community Library
The Twig Book Shop
Old Town Books
The Boerne Bookshop
Hill Country Books
Marta Powell Stafford
Lone Star Literary Life