After Bent's Fort, we fell south across the Panhandles and stayed at Childress, a city that seems to be in the hands of some kind of Wahabi Christian fundamentalists who are ready to go marching as to war. The radio programs out there are a little scary. The next day, we made a stop in Archer City, where Larry McMurtry grew up and later put together a monster bookstore. I believe the store is in new hands now but remains an amazing place. Sprawling across four good-sized buildings near the courthouse square – former retail establishments and a car dealership – the store would be a place to waste a day or two. The catch is that there is no organization to the lash-up beyond general classifications being together. So Texana was lumped in a big old room, but there's no system beyond the simple idea of things Texas associated – no alphabetizing, no separation by time or subject. Shelves go up to high ceilings. If you find what you want, it will be by happy chance and nothing more. My wife aptly described it as a folly, though an enjoyable folly. Complaints notwithstanding, I'd go back in a red-hot minute. Found a book published on the 80th birthday of the Chicago Tribune.