Adios, Texas

Everything really is bigger in Texas, including the interstates. It took us a good chunk of time to get across the 881 miles of I-10, but we finally managed to do it. The mileage was not the only obstacle, however, as we took a few long but wholly worthwhile detours in Mat's birthstate.

We debated the long trip down South to Big Bend National Park up until the minute that we made the committing left hand turn out of Fort Stockton. Lured by promises of a wild, seldom visited National Park, and fed up with the Texas State Park bureaucracy, we braved the dark desert roads and pulled into the Chisos Basin campground around midnight. Arriving at a spot like this in pitch blackness always brings about a kind of mysterious magic upon awakening, as you never know exactly what you're going to see. The landscape of Big Bend was a gorgeous surprise, and we were surrounded by a vast desert land punctuated by a soaring volcanic mountainscape enclosed on the South by the Rio Grande.

Being a desolate, open, and infrequently visited National Park on the border of the US and Mexico brings with it some unique considerations. Scattered throughout the park were warning signs not to feed or give water to any "disoriented, tired, and thirsty" travelers that you might find roaming across the desert - instead, the diligent US citizen was instructed "not to stop and call 911 immediately". Things had changed a lot for the park since 9/11, when the Park served as an informal border crossing into the Mexican town of Boquillas. A park ranger told us that in the old days, "Mexican Nationals" used to leave cars parked on the US side of the river and were able to roam freely in the states up to 100 miles from the border, often stockpiling gasoline, furniture, and other staples that were not as readily available on their side. In return, US tourists could take small ferries across the Rio Grande and load up on chiclets, walking sticks, and small metalworked scorpions as souvenirs for mere pocket change. The border now effectively being closed, the Mexicans had to think of more creative ways to grab the valuable tourist dollars; our favorite was "Victor the Singing Mexican" who crooned from his shack across the Rio at any tourist within earshot, hoping for a deposit into his tip jar on the US side. Clearly the risk of a midnight border crossing to retrieve his hard-earned American dollars must be worth all the trouble.

We were both somewhat shocked to experience the scale of the Rio Grande up close. While it is definitely a natural border and not some artificial line drawn in the sand, it was a relatively small river, and we witnessed many Mexicans wading across with water up only to their knees. While the border may exist on maps and even in nature, it is most certainly a permeable and fluid entity. The small towns that exist on either side often have more similarities than differences, and as much as we try to deny it, there is no escaping the interconnectedness of our economic, social, cultural, and political lives. Perhaps those politicians constantly talking about erecting a border fence need to go for a nice long hike down in Big Bend.

After a relaxing stay with some splendid hikes in Big Bend we headed to Hueco Tanks State Historical Site, a bouldering mecca just East of El Paso. The unique erosion patterns at the site have produced a huge number of huecos, or hollowed out sinks, scattered throughout the granite over time. Due to the rain-collecting properties of these huecos, Native Americans flocked to the area throughout prehistoric times for a refueling stop on their cross-desert journeys. In modern time, rock climbers from across the world flock to Hueco as these same erosion patterns also happen to serve as amazingly positive and strong holds for climbing. The site has been recently enveloped in controversy over a Public Use Plan designed to both protect the historical artifacts while allowing modern recreational use, and from our brief encounter it seems to be working well. With climbers pilgrimaging from across the world to the site, it is hard to argue that the sanctity of the area has been lost and not merely transformed. In short, the climbing was epic, the community was friendly, and we were sad to leave.

We headed West out of Texas knowing that our time to get to California was ticking down, but with a few more stops in mind. As we finally headed across the New Mexico border, the free coffee and wi-fi at the welcome station was not the only reason to celebrate. We had made it out of the Lone Star State in one piece and were only a few states away from the familiar territory of home.