Furry Frisbees in Texas

El Paso being the closest international airport to Marfa, I first had to drive about three hours to reach my final destination. I remember seeing with a distracted eye the fleeting shadows of dead animals on the roadside, a vision inducing an equally fleeting sensation of discomfort. In [more]

El Paso being the closest international airport to Marfa, I first had to drive about three hours to reach my final destination. I remember seeing with a distracted eye the fleeting shadows of dead animals on the roadside, a vision inducing an equally fleeting sensation of discomfort. In the South West of Texas, roadkill is usually antelopes, deer, elks and frogs that have been hit by a truck or a car. Furry frisbee is the crude and poetic term used to designate roadkill in some Southern States of the United States, including Texas. Street meat and highway pizza are alternative terminologies employed in the East of the country and some regions of Australia.

If roadkill cuisine is at the center of a long gastronomic tradition, it is however prohibited in Texas. The two alleged reasons are hygiene and security. Roadkill, like any other venison, has to be fresh. Because dead animals exposed to high temperatures are likely to develop disease, some people logically consider their consumption unhygienic. Secondly, roadkill has to be gutted and skinned while warm-blooded, and when the gourmet forager operates the basic butchery on the roadside, he risks in turn to be hit by a car. Over the last decade, a group of pro-roadkill advocates has been fighting for their right to roadside dining in Texas. A growing number of modern hippies, freegans and hobos including a candidate for the Texas house are demanding its legalization. Today picking or eating road meat remains illegal.
The Bush dynasty, the army of restless border patrols at the Mexican borderline, and the endless list of grotesque laws enforced solely in this state show the harsh conservatism Texas is thriving on. I guess the hardships of early settlers explain to a large extent such tendencies. In my opinion the alluded reason for the ban on roadkill consumption is a worry to see amateur hunters go on the road and deliberately hit animals. On my way to Austin, I stopped in Ozona, a tiny ghost town where one of the only prosperous street business was a ‘deer blinds’ supplier, a fortunate combination of a miniature mirador and a leisure hut, where coward hunters can lazily shoot their pray.