Big Bend.

We drove from El Paso down to Big Bend National Park on Friday. It was cold and snowy in El Paso and on 10 heading east, and the trucks driving in both lanes and kicking up all kinds of icy corruption didn’t help either. We drove Geronimo through the mountains to Van Horn and then took 90 south all the way to the park. The afternoon as the sun was sinking low was beautiful, and the highway was about as empty as you’d expect a southwestern Texas secondary highway to be.

Once we got into the park, we were a bit worried by the amount of snow on the trees, as well as by the ice on the roads. We had thought southwestern Texas was supposed to be warm. Anyway, we set up camp in the Chisos Basin, ate some burritos, and went to bed. It was a cold, cold night.

When we woke up in the morning, it was still cold and there was a lot of frost on the tent. In addition, the road out of the basin, which runs up and around the mountains, was closed because it was covered in ice. So we ate breakfast and put the tent and the fly in the sunlight to dry. The road opened up close to noon, and we drove further south in the park, all the way to the hot springs.

We had a great time at the hot springs. It was just what the doctor ordered, as we’ve been doing a lot sitting in Geronimo and not a lot of showering on this trip.

After the hot springs, we drove down to the Rio Grande Village campground and got a great little site within a stone’s throw of the river. We walked to the store to get some beer and then set up camp and made chili for dinner. Rhoda had the Texan Shiner Bock beer, while I drank the Mexican Tecate. We had a couple games of Quiddler, both of which Rhoda won, and then we hit the sack. We could hear javelinas (wild pigs) running and rutting around as we fell asleep.

The morning was beautiful, with sunlight shining off the yellow leaves of the trees by the river. We ate pancakes, packed up the tent, took a last look at the river, and hit the road for San Antonio. On the way out of the park, we saw a roadrunner; however, there was no Wile E. Coyote hot on his heels.