In the days before the Milwaukee's retrenchment to the Midwest, small roads like this Maudlow Road were the connections from one isolated outpost on the transcon to another. Over modest passes, through fields where cattle wander aimlessly without fencing, and beneath the big skies above. In good weather the roads were passable, in more difficult times of year they were treacherous. The Milwaukee Road itself must have been the preferred means of access to the lost places like Francis that exist west of Ringling and within the traces of 16 Mile Creek.
This is the American West in many respects: isolated, alone, dangerous, and indescribably beautiful. On this June day, in a picture now well dated, the little road from Maudlow continues to survive and meander its way from one small settlement to the next. If there are specific times or places where one can fall in love with the West, this must be one of them for me.
ps - Speaking of the West, the new book from Big Bend looks fantastic. Well done Dan.