Into the wild, sorta

Day 3
We begin again as the day begins to dawn. I'm beginning to like this long sleep thing.

After breakfast Sharon finds a place near the site that seems to lead to the Rio Grande. The park literature indicates that a nature trail that begins in the campground, so we wonder if she's found it. If so, it will be a disappointment because the ground at the bank has fallen away -- the trail leads nowhere.

But I don't think she's gone down far enough, so I go exploring a bit later. I discover the trailhead we're looking for farther down the road. On the way back to our campsite, I see a tree covered with large birds. Turns out they're turkey buzzards. The site is creepy, like something out of a B horror movie. They seem to be waiting for something, and I hope it's not us. 

Congregation of the creepy

The nature trail starts at a wetlands area that's the result of  beaver dams, but we don't see any beaver. We don't see much besides reeds and the pontoon bridge that crosses the water.

The trail leads up a hill from the bridge, but we're not sure about it, and we haven't adequately prepared for a real hike, so we turn back. We'll be back on the morrow.

The plan then is to do the Boquillas Canyon trail, which is supposed to be an easy trail. For us, it's a bit more strenuous. The trail immediately goes up -- it's like climbing the stairs at the office.


On the trail we encounter an older couple who hail from Massachusetts but live in Florida now. They won't make the entire hike -- in part because she's wearing dressy slides.

We also meet a couple from Bavaria -- he's all duded out in boots, jeans and a big, black cowboy hat. They're both very nice and chat in very good English. At the high point of the trail is a small promontory that makes a good place to take pictures, so we all swap cameras and take each other's pics. When I tell the Bavarian dude he looks like a Texan, he seems pleased. 

He probably shouldn't be doing this.

We separate, the older couple turning back, the Bavarians working their way down to the river. We take the trail to the left toward the canyon entrance.

In a few minutes the Bavarians come up to us and say he's taken a picture of a man on a burro crossing the river with a bunch of trinkets for sale. These souvenirs -- walking sticks and a variety of bead animals -- show up on every trail near the river, and you are not supposed to buy them. While we're talking, I notice a man riding across the river on a horse and take his picture.

As we draw near the mouth of the canyon, we hear a man singing, the sound echoing off the canyon walls. He knows three songs -- "Cielito Lindo," "De Colores," and one I've not heard before.

We hang back, figuring he'll want a tip, so of course, he trundles up to us, wanting to sell us walking sticks. We politely demure. I address him in Spanish, and the Bavarians look surprised. I guess I don't look Hispanic. 

El Cantador

Getting to canyon entrance didn't seem so bad. After all we were relatively fresh, but the return trip up the hill takes its toll on Sharon. We took a couples of liters of water each, but it's just not enough for the dry climate. I buzz ahead and bring another couple of liters more for her, and we make it back to the car. The rest of the day is spent reading and relaxing at the campsite.


We still have most of the campground to ourselves. An RV with an older couple will roll in later in the afternoon, but they pick a spot on the other side. We marvel at the difference between this place and home. You almost always hear the sounds of traffic at home. Here you hear insects, the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind, woodpeckers banging away in the trees.


On Monday we saw what we later decide was a vermillion flycatcher, a small bird with a red head and breast. Today we see Monarch butterflies and the woodpeckers and spend time chasing them around the trees trying to shoot pictures. I get a good shot of a Monarch; Sharon may have caught a woodpecker.

The vultures soar in the late afternoon, and I take a shot I think will be one of my favorites -- a vulture soaring with the half moon nearby. They may be vultures, but while soaring high in the sky they are an impressive sight.


The nights are incredible as well. The park has worked to eliminate light pollution, and the night skies produce stunning views. Without binoculars or a telescope you can easily identify clusters and nebulae. When Orion rises, it looks huge, not because of its proximity to the horizon but because the starlight is unobscured in the clear, dark sky. 


As with other nights, bedtime will come just a couple of hours after sundown. I look forward to what the new day will bring in this wonderland.