Just past Henly we reach Ranch Road 165. There is a lot of Texas packed into this short stretch. and the land you come into contact with speaks plainly of its character.I am pleased with a ridge that rides on the rim of a ranch. Thereís no riddle, itís right down the road!. There the ranch resides, opposiste of the right.

Such a glorious spread of fields, itís as though the spread has tried to set the trees in the supervision of the ridge for display. The mini-sea of grass has succeeded, and it succeeds before your face. This view must relax my countenance. I think it also asks the expression I am wearing to dream. But nothing here is accomplished in a dream; what lies beyond your brow is real! This strectch of road, like the others, has a common element of mystery about it. Despite the reality of its existence, there is a surrealness to it that imposes upon you.

I do not know if anyone can really be ready for it, or prepare themselves somehow, and I suspect there is no need for either. I suggest taking on the land, even if for the first time, without any presuppositions of what it might not be. This is clean, cool, matchless, flawless scenery, a place where the efforts of man can even add to the beauty. An example of an addition of man would be the clearing of the cedars. Left in there place is now more of the ground, now visible, that I have grown up with. There is much packed into all of these places, and Ranch Road 165 illustrates this fact very clearly.

Now for the divide. When I think of 165 I think of the divide pass. Imagine coming from scenery already beyond common satisfaction into a breathtaking vault of land and sky. It is a temporary break in the hills, a large breath. When I first stumbled upon this astounding view, I would have liked to hold it to my chest in effort to keep it secret from all others, except those few to whom I would love to show it off. Although a strange, selfish attitude it was, and still is, I would rather no one other than me even knew of it, where it was, or how to get there.

I have adopted this dispostion with other sights and places. I suppose I for some reason want the credit for discovery, and possibly linked deeply within me to that is the desire to possess solitary knowledge of these places. I have even jokingly encouraged others to whom I have shown "my" special finds to be sure and not let others no about it. But I think I know that I am not joking entirely.

Realize the photographs provide no justice for the reality. With windows down, as we pass over, inhale. This portion of country seems almost foreign, yet it rings with the same authenticity as the adjoining land. Here I have stopped and tried to take it in, and it does not work.

You can peer out into and over the vastness and locate pleasure, but you feel like a child given a precious stone. You are unable to valuate the gift with any reason at all. There it is before you. You think it uncommon, but you are hindered because you think without knowledge of the thing.