Texas is big. I know I’m stating the obvious here, but I think this is an understated fact. Texas is very, very big.

You cannot truly appreciate this fact until you have tried to get anywhere in Texas.

This weekend, I made the six and a half hour drive to Amarillo. And really, Amarillo is not that far compared to Lubbock or El Paso, so I give props to anyone driving to one of those outposts.

Now, what possessed me to go to Amarillo? Well, besides the fact that it’s the home of the American Quarter Horse Museum, it’s also very close to Canyon, Texas–home of Palo Duro Canyon (the second largest canyon in the United States) and my boyfriend.

Since I happen to like my boyfriend, I’ve made this drive more than once. And it never ceases to amaze me. To make this arduous trek, you take I-35 South to US-380, US-380 to Decatur and then you get on US-287. You then drive on US-287 until you reach Amarillo or die. Whichever comes first.

In six and a half hours alone in a car with only yourself and your CD collection, you learn a lot about both yourself and your CD collection. You will learn that there are some songs that you put on a mix CD because you think they’ll be fun but that get old after a few listens. You will also learn that some songs never get old.

For those considering a road trip, I suggest Bruce Springsteen’s “Born to Run” and Bonnie Taylor’s “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Somehow, belting those two on a dusty highway in the middle of nowhere just never gets old.

Now that you have the proper music, what else is there to learn? Well, besides how to deal with butt cramps, you also learn to take a look around you. Then you quickly observe two things: road kill and Jesus. They’re both everywhere!

US-287 must be the destination for every medium-sized mammal in the Panhandle with a death wish. You can’t go 20 miles down that road without finding the sad remains of something that was once cute and fuzzy.

I’ve already reminded you that Texas is huge, but now I must remind you that Texas is in the Bible belt. This is something that’s fairly easy to forget when hiding in our urban home with its pockets of liberal activity, but let me tell you: Outside Dallas, Texas is serious about religion.

You hit the first sign before you reach Decatur. There’s an adult video store on your left, immediately followed by a billboard with a picture of Jesus dragging the cross that reads, “PORNOGRAPHY victimizes women and children and is not tolerated in our community.” I wonder if the people of that good community have yet to realize the irony of that statement. After all, someone’s buying enough porn to keep the place open.

The signs of religion only grow stronger from there. US-287 is not an interstate highway. So, unlike, say I-35, when US-287 goes through a town, it doesn’t go over the town, it goes through it. You slow down from 75 miles an hour to 35 to pass through towns with populations usually smaller than a graduating class here at SMU. But on the bright side, you get a really good look at those towns and realize that not only does US-287 attract all the ill-fated mammals of the world, it also attracts all the Churches of Christ. Rural Texas may not have a lot people, but it sure does have a lot of churches.

Finally, at the end of the trip, just outside of Amarillo, you come across my favorite landmark: “The Jesus Christ is Lord (not a swear word) Travel Stop.” A gas station with huge lettering running across the top reads:

“Those who call upon the name of Jesus will be saved…from HELL and go to HEAVEN.”

So if you decide to explore Texas by car, remember to repent and refuel.

Jessica Andrewartha is a junior theater studies major. She can be reached for comment at [email protected].