DUANE
Duane's take
Here's my telling of what the official marker has to say about the Caprock, right here in Ector County. Now, before we talk about what happened out here, you need to understand what you're lookin' at. What you're seein' is the edge of something — the western edge of the Caprock escarpment, a range of flat-topped ridges and cliffs that stretches from the Texas Panhandle all the way down to about twenty miles south of where you're standin' right now, and reaches on into New Mexico.
This particular section goes by the name Concho Bluffs. The Caprock itself — that name refers to the tough limestone that caps those ridges, risin' sharply anywhere from two hundred to a thousand feet above the plains below. They used to call it the Break of the Plains.
Because that's exactly what it is — a break. A hard division between the Staked Plains to the west and the north central plains of Texas to the east. Coronado's expedition observed this country back in 1540.
And the Caprock, for all its drama, did have one thing going for it — it provided shelter in storms. But here's the other side of that bargain: it delayed settlers from ever getting onto the Staked Plains in the first place. That wall of limestone wasn't exactly rollin' out a welcome mat.
Cattle figured that out the hard way. Herds of stampeding cattle at times plunged right over its edge. And eastbound wagons — including some coming from the California gold fields in the 1850s — found themselves blocked by this very escarpment.
Then there was the matter of water, or the lack of it. Surface water was so scarce out on the Staked Plains that the land was simply too dry for farming or ranching, full stop, until wells were drilled and windmills got installed. The Caprock didn't give up its country easy.
And the railroads found that out too. The ridges and canyons here hindered railroad building in ways that cost real money and real blood. In 1881, workmen out here were earning two dollars and fifty cents a day.
That was the highest wages ever paid up to that point on a Texas railroad job. And they earned every cent. The job was Colt's Big Rock Cut — that mile-wide, seventeen-foot chasm you can actually see from right here.
They were cutting a path through this ancient limestone, and they were using dynamite to do it. Then something went wrong. A tragic accident with dynamite injured several of Colt's men.
And it killed three of them. Those three men were buried on a hill northeast of the tracks. The pioneers around Odessa knew where those graves were.
But that knowledge didn't hold. Those graves cannot now be found. The Caprock endures.
The men who cut through it — most of their names, and now even their resting places — have been swallowed by the same country they worked so hard to open up.
What the marker says
A range of flat-topped ridges and cliffs stretching from Texas panhandle to 20 miles South of this point and extending into new Mexico. The name also refers to tough limestone that caps ridges. Rising sharply 200 to 1,000 ft. above plains. This section, Concho Bluffs, Marks Western edge of Caprock escarpment. Called the "Break of the plains" because it divides the staked plains from the north central plains of Texas. Observed by Coronado's expedition, 1540-1540, provided shelter in storms, but delayed entrance of settlers to staked plains. Herds of stampeding cattle at times plunged over its edge. In the area, the Caprock blocked eastbound wagons, including some from California gold fields in 1850'a. Because of scarce surface water, staked plains were too dry for farming or ranching until wells were drilled and windmills installed. Ridges and canyons here hindered railroad building. In 1881 workmen earned $2.50 a day-highest wages ever paid until then on a texas railroad job-at "Colt's Big Rock Cut" (the mile-wide, 17-ft. chasm visible here). A tragic accident with dynamite injured several of Colt's men and killed three. Their graves, known to the pioneers around Odessa, were on a hill northeast of the tracks, but cannot now be found.