At first dawn before the other RV’ers on the asphalt parking lot stirred, I hitched up and left my place of four days. I was going to stop before reaching Big Bend but pushed on through arriving after eight hours of driving flat dry open terrain. The last ten miles of the slow drop into the river bottom at Rio Grande Village was the highlight of the day. The temperature was not. At 4:00 it was 99 degrees. I left 65 degree temperatures for this?!? I couldn’t move for the first hour. For the second time in five weeks I took out my lawn chair and read my book Isaac’s Storm about the 1900 hurricane that destroyed Galveston – prepping me for my visit to that city. I finally walked down to the reed swamp next to the river but couldn’t see the river itself. I followed the trail up to a bare hill and there were two beautiful walking sticks leaning against a rock. A small note said that they were $5 and to please leave the money in the can. The Park Service said not to buy anything from the Mexicans. They come across the river to sell to the tourist. Tourist should not get caught with “contraband”; ($5,000 fine) Mexicans should not be caught in the USA. I could see the lone house across the river.
I decided that I did not want to stay here. I would go back north.
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