big bend – Workplace Navigator

This has been my mantra for the last two months. I struck out alone for the west coast to attend my mother’s 90th birthday in my RV, Abeona (goddess of the outward journey), in May of 2024. I’m not mechanically inclined, I am skittish of heights, not a fan of enclosed places and really like a good night’s sleep. This journey would have been a lot easier by just booking a plane ticket instead of driving some 4,000 miles to celebrate my mother’s landmark birthday. But instead, I have embraced doing it scared.

Abeona arrived on the Pacific Ocean after a cross country trip

Here are the things I faced doing it scared:

Rain in east Texas. As I was headed to Rusk Texas (look it up, it’s in the middle of nowhere) there were all kinds of warnings on my map apps that the roads could be flooded. It was a torrential downpour as I drove on desolate route 84 to my campground and out the next day. I saw whole fields inundated with water, rivers out of their banks but never any water across the road. I figured that the campground would have alerted me that it was underwater (and it wasn’t) but the drive was intimidating because of the unknown.

Big Bend. Big Bend National Park is in the middle of nowhere on the border between Texas and Mexico. I drove over a hundred miles without seeing a gas station from Fort Stockton down route 385 which enters the park from the north entrance. I didn’t see one car as I drove down from the north entrance to the park headquarters. This is rare for a National Park in May but when it’s 112 degrees outside and no cell coverage;it appeared to not be a popular spot in the Spring. When you are driving an RV by yourself and know there isn’t much of a safety net if you break down; you do it scared.

Boquillas Mexico. When I get nervous, my stomach twists in knots. I had a morning planned to cross the border at the edge of Big Bend NP where there is an official entry point into the United States. I knew that it was possible to take a very short row boat ride across the Rio Grande into the little town of Boquillas. I didn’t sleep well in anticipation of crossing the border and back. I was imagining something going wrong. It’s hot, dusty, no cell coverage and my Spanish was rusty. As with most uncertain things, I was looking for things to control. I texted my kids letting them know that I was crossing the border without cell coverage and that I expected to be back to cell coverage in 3 hours. The town itself, my guide and burro ride into town were a step into a whole other reality with this small-town dependent on brave Americans to take a chance on seeing another way of life. I’m glad I did it scared.

White Sands National Park. I’ve been to over 30 national parks. I had been to White Sands as a newlywed with my husband, Orlando, in the mid 80’s. I do not remember the road, about 3 miles into the dunes loop, ending into what was essentially sand dunes for some 10 miles. This mistake, in that I didn’t have all wheel drive on the RV, was something I’m glad I did in retrospect but had I known, I’m sure I would have skipped. Getting my Abeona stuck in the sand and the rattling of the dual tires in the back was unnerving. I turned around as soon as I could but I can tell you to pay more attention to park maps and advisories now.

Tehachapi Pass. This is an infamous road that skirts Los Angeles through a mountain pass. I have been over it several times in a car although I probably wasn’t driving. When driving up from the south there are over 4,500 wind turbines which, immediately alert you to the fact that “there will be wind.” On the day I came up the pass from the south there were signs alerting high profile vehicles. My campground was on top of the pass. I went anyway. Gulp. It felt like hurricane force winds, I was clenching the steering wheel and maintained a 45 mile an hour pace. I was fortunate that there weren’t may trucks and gratified to see other folks with trailers going over the pass (if they can do it, I can do it). After 4 camping days in Tehachapi, I came down the other side of the pass which is longer, steeper and full of curves (it forced me to learn how to use manual gears). I kept thinking to myself, Rick Hanson’s “Are you alright right now?” I was.

Glider Ride. When I was camped in Tehachapi, it was right next to a glider plane airport. After the first two days of watching gliders take off attached to small planes, I decided that, if I don’t do this, I’ll regret it. I had every afternoon free and why not just walk over and get in a glider. I was going to tell my daughter but she was occupied so I just went over and did it. In retrospect, I think that because I was by myself, I couldn’t be talked out of it. Perhaps someone else would have discouraged me. Maybe I thought I had survived the trip thus far, let’s go for broke. I was shocked that all you had to do was pay and that I didn’t sign 5 pages of waivers. Perhaps it was because I didn’t sign waivers, I decided it was safe. My pilot Cam was great. They wheeled the glider into position. There was nothing but manual signals between him and the pilot of the guide plane. The glider itself was airborne before the guide plane which was freaky. Did I mention that I was in the front of the glider with all the controls to fly (but didn’t). When the tow rope releases, we were gliding above the Tehachapi Valley at 6,500 feet. Outside of the wind and the conversation with Cam, it was silence. It’s incredible that this little plane, that is shorter than my RV can glide through the air without any technology and land safely on the ground. I’m glad I did it scared.

I find that, traveling alone as a woman over 50, I get a lot of folks opining on my choice. Mostly it’s from women over 50 saying “I could never do that”, “So you are alone? Driving by yourself?” I’m always flummoxed as to what to respond with. And then? Then there is Lucky Lu (her license plate). I was departing Joshua Tree and at a stop light in Yucca Valley when I hear a car honking at me. I turn to the left and see a woman beaming and giving me the thumbs up. I rolled down my window and she said” You have the toy I want! I love it! Are you by yourself?”, I answered yes, and she responds “YOU GO GIRL!” That moment? That was worth it all. There is also my co-pilot, my inspiration, my dearly departed father had wanderlust in spades and he would drive 4,000 miles just to see a view. Daddy is always riding shotgun.

I have been to many National Parks in my lifetime between a cross country trip with my family at the age of 8, a cross country move in the mid 80’s and a few more trips out west when my kids were small. Big Bend at the very edge of Texas was never on my radar until about 8 years ago. I had never even heard of this park until then when it was featured on CBS Sunday Morning, but once I knew that there was a National Park on the edge of the Rio Grande between the United States and Mexico, it went on the bucket list.

I traveled to Big Bend in my motorhome, Abeona (Goddess of the Outward Journey) in May of 2024. It’s a little under 2,000 miles from my home in Durham, NC. I found many wonderful discoveries in Big Bend and here are some of them:

It’s enormous. I had stayed in Fredericksburg the night before I arrived and took route 385 on the northern border of the park. It turns out that this is the least traveled entrance, although during the summer, the park is not heavily visited due to the extreme heat. Driving down through the center of the park on 385, it took almost 45 minutes to get to the visitor center at Panther Junction. I didn’t pass a single car on the way to the visitor center. I actually was a little nervous that maybe a road was out because there was so little traffic until I got to the visitor center. Big Bend is the size of the state of Rhode Island. Now it doesn’t compare in size to the various parks in Alaska, Yellowstone or the Grand Canyon but anything that’s the size of a state is big. It’s not going to be easy to see in a day. I was glad that I had three days to explore.

It’s a desert. While there are many mountains and the Rio Grande within the park, the vast majority of the park is desert. It’s a parched landscape with cactus, agave, and prickly pear. It’s located at the northern end of the Chihuahuan Desert, which is mostly located in Mexico. It only gets about 5 inches of rain a year. So much like Death Valley, it’s very arid and water is a must on even the smallest adventures in the park.

It’s mountainous. Big Bend is the only National Park that contains an entire mountain range within its borders. The Chisos Mountains were formed by volcanoes 32-38 million years ago which is really evident when you see formations like the Mule Ears which jute out above a mountain top. The largest peak is Emory Peak at 7,832 feet and there are three more peaks above 7,000 feet. Only 2% of the park is woodland and all of that woodland is in the mountains. With highs coming in at 106 degrees, I didn’t manage to take any mountain hikes but when I took the Ross Maxwell Scenic drive, it felt like there were five or more different mountain ranges. Around each bend of the drive there was another vista with imposing mountains.

It’s a river. I was able to get out early to hike the Santa Elena Canyon trail which is right along the Rio Grande in an imposing canyon. Although the imposing part of the canyon is on the Mexican side of the river, its cliffs are upwards of 1,500 feet tall which is higher than the Empire State Building. I was disappointed that most of the river was nothing but mud flats at that section of the Rio Grande but even still, the views along the hike were terrific.

There are animals. I ended up spotting several Road Runners in my hikes and travels around the park. They almost felt domesticated, but when you see one zip off on foot, it’s apparent that it’s a Road Runner. My dear friend, Janine, gave me this insight on Road Runners:

Roadrunners symbolize good luck, magic, courage, strength, speed, and
endurance. They are also considered medicine birds by the Hopi and other
Pueblo tribes, who believe they can ward off evil spirits. The X-shaped footprints of
roadrunners are sacred symbols to Pueblo tribes because they are thought to confuse
evil spirits by hiding the bird’s direction of travel.

I felt really blessed to have seen several on my visit to Big Bend.I also ran into a Coyote walking down a road in the early morning. I spotted several Jack Rabbits bolting across the road. Perhaps it’s because the park is so empty in the summer months but I was surprised to see such elusive animals.

There is Mexico. I knew that it was possible to go to Mexico and the tiny village of Boquillas Del Carmen. There is a port of entry and immigration about a half mile from the Rio Grande on the edge of the park. There are two things you need to know; you must have a current passport and plenty of small bills in US currency. The boat ride…er….row boat ride that is guided by a guy in the water and takes about 2 minutes is the beginning. From there you can pay a guide to walk you to the village, drive you to the village, take a donkey or a horse to the village. I elected a burro named Maria and my guide was Raul. He led Maria and me into the tiny village, to the Mexican immigration trailer for a wrist band and then I had a breakfast of cheese enchiladas. It was amazing as I sat outside on a plastic chair in 95-degree temperatures taking in this sleepy town of 250 residents who completely depend on the tourist trade from the National Park. Raul relayed that everything came to a stop for 12 years after 9/11 and for 18 months during COVID. Once I was back across the Rio Grande it was just about 10 minutes to repatriate to the United States.

There is so much to experience in this park and although I was glad it wasn’t crowded because of the extreme heat, I can image that I could have explored a lot more if it was cooler. It’s just so dangerously hot, even in May, that I would love to go back in the winter. And I just might.