Dusted. We're dusted. Recovering slowly in the room with the help of pizza and beer. 

After we left Benson, we headed east on an I-10 that provided three lanes eastbound, then later two for the entire duration of our journey. There's a sort of set of cultural expectations, plus psychological games, when vehicles of different speeds use the two lanes. So there was a lot of jockeying. 

In the morning, before we left Benson, the wind was moderate. But for most of the trip it was strong, even gale-force, and it kicked up enormous clouds of dust. Cold, too. The dust would remain with us, thicker or thinner, for the rest of the day, blocking the long, long views of West Texas. Admittedly, some of the views weren't that uplifting, even without dust clouds. The sun sure looked funny through all that dust.

We had lots of minor car troubles, where the 2020 Edge refused to start. After a couple of hours of visiting auto parts stores and even a Ford dealership, we got the advice to replace the battery in the key fob. That worked - it's been good since then. 

We saw the "aerostat" (radar set on a tethered balloon) outside of Marfa and then stopped at the Hotel Paisano for drinks. Pat was quite taken with Marfa, as I was nine years ago on my cross-country trip. 

Onward from Marfa to Presidio, about 60 miles away, in the colorful dusk.

Here in Presidio, the only restaurant open on Saturday night was a pizza parlor. And the only place to buy beer was Ojinaga, half a mile away in Mexico. This is not a party town. But the wind is warmer. 

We'll get an early start tomorrow, touring the lovely Big Bend countryside by the Rio Grande, ending the day in Fort Stockton, Gateway to the Eclipse.

OK, I just made up that last part.