Horsehead Crossing on the Pecos River appears unimpressive today. The crossing lies a short distance off Farm to Market Highway 11, twelve miles northwest of the railroad ghost town of Girvin (between Fort Stockton and McCamey). Pale green water flows languidly between crumbling earthen riverbanks topped with scrubby mesquite. Besides the historical marker, little remains to identify this centuries-old spot where many travelers and animals perished in the attempt to cross the danger-filled Pecos. When the river ran unimpeded through Texas on its journey to the Rio Grande, its steep, muddy banks, its swiftly flowing water filled with unpredictable currents and quicksand beds forced travelers to locate the safest crossing spots. Horsehead became one where people gambled on making it over the river.
The names of the earliest people who crossed here vanished with those nomadic groups who wandered this region for centuries, only the Jumano, the last, remembered. In the seventeenth century, Spanish expeditions crossed here or nearby. Apache bands made West Texas their home for a time, crossing the Pecos to reach the Rio Grande and Mexico on trading journeys.
Horsehead Crossing most likely gained its name with the arrival of the Comanches in the 1700s. These fierce horsemen took control of the Llano Estacado and the Trans-Pecos, driving Apaches and others before them. They found raiding into Mexico lucrative and blazed a set of paths from their realm to Mexico that collectively became known as The Comanche War Trail. As they returned with captives and horses across the harsh, waterless passage before reaching the Pecos, the journey took its toll. The thirst-crazed animals gave out from exhaustion or rushed to drink the alkaline waters until they died. Their bones marked the crossing, the distinctive horse skulls prominent.
When gold rush travelers bound for California arrived here, they were struck by the scattered bones whitening in the sand. Attempting to ford their wagons, many lost their own animals and belongings to the deadly river. Some lost their lives. If Comanches were near, they created one more peril to face. The crossing gained more bones.
In the 1850s, the Butterfield Overland Mail established a stage station at the crossing as they struggled to carry mail and passengers across the treacherous Pecos.
Left Reenactors Henry Crawford and Chuckwagon Master J. Arthur Garcia Right Reenactors bring out period-authentic chuckwagons
Beginning in the 1860s, cattlemen began driving livestock to the crossing, then upriver to markets in New Mexico. Numerous cattle perished from heat, the brine-laden water, or drowning in the crossing, adding their bones along the dusty riverbanks. When Oliver Loving and partner Charles Goodnight publicized their drive using Horsehead Crossing, it became known as the Goodnight-Loving Trail. As cattle drives increased in the late 1860s, the Comanches found the crossing an ideal ambush spot, stealing cattle and horses, killing drovers if possible. The place became even more “hideous with bleaching skeletons.”
The destruction of the Comanche empire, the closing of the open range and the construction of railroads spelled the end for Horsehead Crossing. It gradually fell into disuse, its horse skulls rotting away. Dams harnessed the deadly force of the Pecos. At least, until rare, torrential rains fall. It became a harsh, lonely, isolated place. No one traveled there any longer. Except for a weekend in October, when people return to the river.
In 2020 a group of West Texans interested in preserving the crossing’s iconic history formed an organization to host an annual gathering at the site. The event includes a wide range of people and activities. Native American groups—Lipan, Jumano, Comanche—come and reenact the lifeways and dances of their people. Reenactors portraying soldiers, conquistadors, emigrants, and pioneers bring tents, gear, and cannons, setting up camp beside the Indians. On a small rise above the river, a row of authentic chuck wagons cooks traditional meals over campfires, served free to all visitors. Historic talks, tours of the old stage ruins, music, and stories recreate sights and sounds from two-centuries ago. Groups of schoolchildren and visitors wander the dusty site, visiting tents and teepees, talking with schoolmarms and officers, interrupted periodically by the roar of cannon fire or the sound of drums.
Horsehead Crossing, long dreaded as a dangerous place of passage and conflict, now provides a unique, memorable opportunity to touch the past in a visceral way.
