Jackass Mail Line becomes IH-10

by Jim Fish

Ozona—In the sunbaked expanse of 19th-century Texas, where the sky stretched endlessly and the land whispered the tales of an untamed wilderness, adventure awaited those daring enough to seize it. This was the era when the San Antonio and San Diego Mail Line, under the stewardship of G. H. Giddings and R. E. Doyle, joined with the Overland Mail Line and carved a path through history that was the precursor to Interstate-10.

The journey along the San Antonio-San Diego Mail Line, colloquially known as the "Jackass Mail," was not merely a trip; it was an odyssey of endurance, courage, and sheer human tenacity. Established in 1857 by James E. Birch, the line had passed into the hands of George H. Giddings by 1868, after a series of tumultuous changes fueled by civil war, competition, and the relentless push westward.

For those accustomed to the modern conveniences of travel, the experience of journeying from San Antonio to El Paso in those days would have seemed almost mythical. The cost was considerable: $100 for the leg to El Paso, escalating to $150 for Tucson, and a formidable $200 to reach San Diego. Passengers were advised, almost in jest, to pack light, with an additional charge of forty cents per pound for any baggage beyond the bare essentials, hinting at the slogan, "travel light and prepare for action." 

The journey began with a steamer for some travelers from New Orleans to Indianola, a port now swallowed by the sands of time, followed by a transfer to a four-horse mail coach heading to San Antonio. Here, the real adventure commenced. Travelers would board stagecoaches, which offered a jarring contrast to the smooth, cushioned rides of the future. The route included eighty-seven watering places or stage stations, many mere shacks or brush corrals, providing little more than shelter from the sun.

The landscape was as varied as it was harsh. From San Antonio, the path led through rugged terrain, over rivers, and into deserts where the stagecoaches couldn't venture. At the edge of the Colorado Desert, now known as the Imperial Valley, passengers would dismount and continue muleback, the animals' surefootedness crucial in the parched, unforgiving land. The heat could be overwhelming, the cold at night just as biting, with dust and insects as constant companions.

The journey from San Antonio to El Paso was promised to take just six and a half days, a testament to both the efficiency of the mail line and the grueling pace of travel. However, the route was punctuated by forts, some like Fort Hudson and Fort Lancaster, which served as military outposts and beacons of civilization in an otherwise wild expanse. These stops were not just for rest; they were critical for survival, offering water, shelter, and protection from potential threats, including encounters with hostile native tribes.

By 1935, the world had changed dramatically. The same route was now traversed by buses, with fares at a modest two cents per mile, no extra charges for baggage, and certainly no skirmishes with Indians. The cost from San Antonio to San Diego had dropped to $22, reflecting not just the economic progress but also the technological evolution that had transformed travel from a life-risking venture to a commonplace activity.

The San Antonio-San Diego Mail-Line, aka the "Jackass Mail," coupled with the Overland Mail Line held a promise of adventure and created a narrative of human progress that spoke of the Giddings family's legacy, of G. H. Giddings's vision and a time when the West was still a frontier to be explored, fought over, and ultimately shaped by those who dared to dream. 

This was not just about the mechanics of travel but the spirit of those who ventured into the unknown, leaving behind a trail of stories as endless as the Texas horizon. It was a vivid reminder of how far we've come, from the era when crossing a desert on muleback was the pinnacle of adventure, to an age where such tales are recounted with a mixture of awe and nostalgia from the comfort of air-conditioned buses or cars traveling out Interstate-10.



Shannon Medical Center