06/10/2026
ONLY IN EL PASO… 915 LOST 🌵
Yesterday, I was helping a buyer who had recently moved to El Paso.
Like a lot of people relocating here, he spent his spare time driving around different neighborhoods trying to learn the city.
I had shown him homes the day before, so when my phone rang and I saw it was him, I assumed he wanted to see a few more houses.
That was NOT the reason for the call.
The moment I answered, something sounded off. His voice was unsettling. Like a person who had run out of options. Like someone who wasn’t sure who to call… but He decided to call me.
There was a long pause.
Then he finally said:
“J.R… I think I’m lost.”
Now he had my full attention.
Apparently, he had spent the afternoon exploring Horizon and checking out different neighborhoods. At some point, he decided to drive a little farther.
That turned out to be a mistake.
Before long, he had gone too far, gotten completely turned around, and had absolutely no idea how to get back.
He was out past the rock quarry.
The dashboard read 103 degrees. The gas light was on. There wasn’t another vehicle in sight. No houses. No stores. No gas stations. No water.
And then he mentioned one more detail.
His truck was only two-wheel drive.
Suddenly, every dirt road looked a little different. Every sandy patch looked a little deeper. And getting stuck no longer sounded impossible.
Then he said:
“J.R… I’m stopped at a fork in the road.”
I asked him what he could see.
“Dirt.”
Anything else?
“More dirt.”
Any signs?
“No.”
Any landmarks?
“No.”
At this point, he wasn’t lost.
He was L.O.S.T.
Low On Supplies & Turned-around.
His gas light was on. It was 103 degrees. There wasn’t another vehicle in sight. And he was sitting at a fork in the road trying to decide which bad decision was the better bad decision.
Then I asked him the most El Paso question possible.
“Where’s the mountain?”
Silence.
A long silence.
I could almost picture him standing outside his truck, slowly turning in circles in the middle of nowhere.
Finally he said:
“Hold on…”
A few seconds passed.
Then:
“Okay… I see it.”
“Is it in front of you or behind you?”
Another pause.
“It’s behind me.”
And just like that… I knew exactly which direction he was headed.
A few more questions. A couple of turns. And before long he found pavement. Then a gas station. Then cold air conditioning. Then civilization.
Later he asked me:
“How did you know where I was?”
I laughed.
Because in El Paso, the Franklin Mountains aren’t just a mountain.
They’re a compass.
Visitors use GPS.
Locals use the mountain.
And when you’re sitting at a fork in a dirt road near Horizon, it’s 103 degrees outside, your gas light is on, you have no water, and you’re driving a two-wheel-drive truck in the middle of nowhere…
That mountain is worth more than the most expensive GPS money can buy.
🌵 ONLY IN EL PASO.
Because everywhere else people ask:
“Where are you?”
In El Paso we ask:
“Okay… where’s the mountain?”
And somehow...
That’s usually enough.
📍 Have you ever used the mountain to figure out where you were?
