There is no way to describe with any sense of accuracy the vast sense of emptiness coupled with the intensity of life in the Chihuahuan desert. When we told people about this next leg of our trip, the inevitable response was, “Ugh, the desert.” We did not take the highway, so our route, though slower, took us through far more varied and interesting landscapes than the central west section of Texas, which is admittedly monotonously flat and sparse. Route 90W winds along the border, loosely following the outline of the Rio Grande as it slices the US away from its southern neighbor. The landscape undulates dramatically into sparse, windswept hills, drawing the eye away from the seemingly endless road. Few animals dot these arid plains. Cattle are poorly suited to this type of environment, and their lack of agility on loose, unstable slopes makes them a hazard to themselves. Sheep and goats are a better fit, but like many places around the world, overgrazing has had devastating effects on this fragile ecosystem and they were also few and far between.
Many people before me have written about the splendors of the desert. This place fascinates, with good reason. The environment is harsh, yet life clings ferociously to the slopes and plains. There is an ever present sense of waiting, of biding time until the rain comes. The desert, far from being a place of desperation and loss, feels always at the edge of possibility, and if anyone should feel hopeless about the state of the world and wonder what the point may be to all of this, please, come to the desert. See for yourself how fiercely these species fight to complete their life cycles and hold their unique place in the ecosystem. Marvel at their incredible adaptations, developed to thrive in a place where life should be impossible. Bathe in the light. And the quiet. Perhaps it will soothe your soul a little.
As we move into our third week in the desert, I’m haunted by the awareness of how much is possible, even in a place this inhospitable. My permaculture studies continue teaching me how to open my mind and imagine solutions to such problems as water scarcity, excesses of wind, light and heat. Geoff Lawton’s Greening the Desert project has been much on my mind lately. It’s an inspiring example of what we can do with creativity, willpower and good ressource management, regardless of our circumstances or the apparent unsuitability of our environment. The below video is a longer explanation of the life of the project, but the website has many shorter, equally interesting clips with more detailed explanations of how such regeneration projects can be made possible.
Along the northern road to enter Big Bend National Park, sit a patchwork of ranches dividing up a long expanse of flat terrain. Mountains rose and fell as we drove past, giving us a foretaste of the immensity of the space we were entering. We weren’t able get a camping space inside the park, so we stayed in a dusty RV park just outside the western limit, in a small town called Study Butte, right across from a surprisingly well-stocked country store. Temperatures were lovely in the morning and brutal in the afternoon, when the relentless sun drove me nearly to desperation in search of shade and a cooling breeze. It was a very animal experience.
The first day we crossed the park from west to east in search of views of the Rio Grande. The river was very low and the best spot to access it was via the Boquillas canyon trail at the easternmost point of the park. There was an unpaved road a couple of miles before the canyon that the visitor’s center said we might be able to pass with our AWD vehicle. We drove about five miles down that road to do a short hike there before going to the canyon. The track was in decent shape, but we would have been better served with a slightly higher clearance. There were two sections where we hit the trail with the back end of the car (not great for the plug we installed there to power the camper when we drive), but we survived and enjoyed the incredible solitude of being the only ones on the hike.
The Boquillas Canyon hike was short and shaded down by the river. Once you enter the canyon, you follow a clear and flowing section of the Rio Grande with several spots to get in the water and swim. As we emerged from beneath the flowering acacias near the river bank, we heard a man call from the other side, “Tamales. ¿Quierén tamales?” Tamales. Do you want tamales? He and his horse were tucked deep in the shade of a mesquite on the Mexican side of the river. I politely answered in the negative, worried about the logistics of either party crossing an international border, while Honey started fantasizing out loud about how nice it would be to eat tamales. We agreed to grab some on the way back out and wound our way past the other bathers to the very end of the trail.
Strategically, we should have brought our lunch with us instead of leaving it in the car. We could have spent the afternoon lounging and staying cool while dipping in and out of the water. As it was, we tried to do too many things on that first day and found ourselves worn out and hot in the worst part of the afternoon. When we walked back towards the trailhead the tamale man had gone. We processed our disappointment (by that time we’d been fantasizing about tamales for a good hour at least) and had a brief conversation about seizing opportunities when they present themselves, rather than letting my anxieties decide for us. As we approached a stand of mesquite, Honey jokingly called out, “Tamale!” and lo and behold not one but two tamale men on horseback stepped onto the trail! We were saved!
After a brief negotiation we walked away with our bag of wonderfully warm tamales and the men melted into the understory, leaving behind only a few horse droppings to indicate they were ever there. There is an official border crossing at Boquillas, where you cross the river either by small boat, or by foot when the water is low enough, but I very much doubt our tamale vendors followed the official route during their forays into the park. We saw a few other men in other spots along the river similarly sheltering in the shade on the Mexican side of the Rio, waiting for evening to come back and collect the trinkets and souvenirs displayed with small cash boxes at various spots in the park. Though we’ve passed through various Border Patrol checkpoints in our time in Texas and New Mexico, we never saw any border agents in the national park and we appreciated this quietly kept truce which allows people to discreetly make their living however they are able.
On our second and third days we hiked in the Chisos Basin section of Big Bend. This area in the heart of the park sits at a higher elevation and is completely surrounded by the Chisos Mountains. It is cooler and the vegetation is forest as opposed to desert. Both hikes were around 7-8km, which tends to be our sweet spot. There are reportedly cougars and bears in these mountains, thankfully the only animals we saw were the brilliantly blue feathered Mexican Jay which seemed to always hang out in bands of five or six individuals.
At the end of our four night stay in Study Butte, we felt like we’d done everything we wanted to do in the park. We drove all of the scenic roads, we hiked, we bathed in the Rio Grande. We found a rhythm that worked for us, but the afternoon heat remained a big challenge. When we settled in the first day, we made the mistake of parking Chérie with the fridge on the west side of our campsite. Even with the awning up, the baking afternoon sun did a number on our little 27-year old Dometic. It was able to cool off at night, but without enough airflow during the day, it couldn’t keep up and stopped working on 120V the third day and on propane the day after. I sent Honey across to the country store for ice and packed everything in our little cooler until we could figure something out.
An extensive foray into some internet forums revealed the challenges these fridges have in very hot environments and provided us with some solid tips and trouble-shooting ideas. The next day, our neighbor, who had been RVing for several years and had rebuilt his entire refrigerator, explained how to mount a couple of computer fans and run them on the 12V to increase airflow. We got the fridge running that last day and haven’t had any issues since we’ve been in New Mexico. It is significantly cooler here right now, so we’ll have to install the fans before going to our next hot place.
NOTE: I got some feedback that this Substack is a little hard to navigate, so I’ve changed the layout for the post list to make it easier.