Big Bend National Park

I start this writing just after sundown to the howl of the coyotes. Fox was a bit agitated at the sound and has stationed himself at the foot of the bed so he can see out of the window. Everyday of the last 3 Mr. Coyote has come through the camp checking things out. He doesn't stay long and seems only mildly interested in what might be next to or near the garbage bins. Finding nothing he moseys on blending into the underbrush on the fringe of the campgrounds. Nancy managed a super picture of him this am during his morning "constitution."

I, on the other hand, alerted the camp to a very large, dark brown Bob Cat who, after binocular study turned out to be a mountain lion. He was about 4' long from head to rear. He crept across the camp sites and took a brief pause next to the fence that skirts the area. I was sitting in my chair enjoying a cup of morning coffee when I saw him. I spied Ginny and motioned for her to bring the binoculars. Then a fellow came over with his camera and captured a couple of great shots that he said he would email to me. We'll see if that happens.

The drive from the park entrance to cottonwood campground by the Rio Grande is about 70mi of twists and turns through sharp, craggy peaks of stone and desert strewn with lava telling of volcanic times of long ago. There lies Mexico, so close across the river you feel like you could touch it. This is the Chihuahuan Desert in all its desolate beauty, a show of banana yucca, agaves' majestic flower stalks and various cacti all wrapped in stillness with a soft blanket of cerulean blue overhead. Your breath is surely taken away and your heart fills with a love so deep you know you are one with the earth. No where is there such silence to fill the spirit. This land is so spectacular it quiets the heart and sets the soul afire.

There go those coyotes again. Such a gift to hear those howls and yips. Tonight is certainly a good night for hunting. The first 2 days in the park several javelena came to graze. My, they are ugly with their long, bristly hair. They are not classified in the pig family but sure do look like them. . . it is said they can do quite a bit of damage to a dog. Not a good idea to let the hound roam free here.

I wanted so much to kayak the Rio Grande but the water was high and running very fast. This part of the river gets its water from Mexico. A few days ago they opened some of the reservoirs to release water and it is now running about 10mph, very muddy, carrying a large quantity of silt from the lakes. The raft trips out of Terilungua have stopped service. When I heard that I said this may not be my time to kayak the Rio. Better safe than sorry.

We have absolutely no communication here, no satellite internet or cell service. An interesting feeling being cut off from the rest of the world, a feeling I have always enjoyed. . . no rushing, no one talking or calling you. This is really a place where time is of no consequence. Unfortunately, I'm sure the ageing process continues but not like I care or notice.

This morning Nancy, Ginny and I drove over to Study (Stoody) Butte and Terilingua Ghost Town where the general store's sign featured a Day of The Dead Lady to welcome us. Since I collect Day of Dead folk art I was going to buy a souvenir. Way too expensive! The ghost town consisted of small, tumbled down, adobe houses. Mostly, the whole place existed to entice the tourists. In fact, it really looked like an old hippie commune. There is a theater that seems to be the center for live entertainment for the surrounding towns.

Of course, the real "eye candy" of the day was the Kosmic Kowgirl painted hot pink with a lovely courtyard of pink flamingos and lawn chairs. Next to this was a very small vintage trailer painted with Betty Boop and friends. What a hoot! Kathy the Kowgirl owns the place.


Our drive to Terilingua took us over old Maverick Road and a maverick it was. . . very slow going and better to say we were 4 wheeling! We came upon Luna's jackal in the middle of nowhere. The jackal (hut) looked in part like a Midwestern sod dugout house. A lone man, Luna, lived and farmed the area until he was 108 yrs old. He irrigated his farm from the Rio. It is amazing he could get anything from the desert.

Tomorrow morning we will head north to Ft. Davis and Davis State Park. I will miss Big Bend.