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Sunday, February 24, 2008

Driving northwest on US Highway 83







I was out of the Laredo area by 10am and on Hwy 83 driving northeast on by now familiar south Texas Plains. This is my least favorite terrain of Texas, however, the many historical markers and places along the way make driving through this land interesting and worthy of many short stops to look around.

I knew I was going to get a lot of mileage in today, with no goal other than getting to Eagle Pass, stopping in Carrizo Springs and whatever other small towns along the way.

Shortly after getting on Hwy 83 I hit an inspection station with one lone agent outside. I gave him my IDs, rolled down my back window so he could see that I was alone with my baggage and his response was “Are you moving?” and that’s when I realized that yes, in a way, I was moving. I am taking the slow road from Texas to Arizona along the scenic route.

The terrain became gently rolling as I drove ten miles north on Hwy 83. Then I noticed a small fixed-wing plane flying low, out and back and making small loops. Oh, I thought, someone’s out for a test flight, and lookie there, there are people pulled over in their cars watching!
But as I got closer I realized that that small fixed-wing plane was really a USBP plane and the cars below were USBP vans and a sheriff’s car. Whoa, something big’s happening, and it’s most likely involving illegals the USBP caught crossing the river. I'm used to seeing rotary wing in Arizona by the USBP and this is the first time I've seen fixed wing.

I had barely passed them in my van when I saw a crested caracara sitting on a highway post. Oh, I had to stop and photograph it! I made a U-turn and stopped, and just as soon as I did that, realized I had done a major mistake. I was within visual range of the USBP and sheriff up the hill, and sure enough,a sheriff’s car came right toward me. I knew I couldn’t leave now. A big sheriff approached me, I handed over my photo IDs before he could ask, and told him why I was stopped.




“I stopped to photograph that crested caracara” I told him. I knew that sounded mundane, but it was the truth. To even make that point, I took my sunglasses off so the old man could see my eyes.




“You realize you are stopping in a bad area, we are after a bunch of illegals in a stolen car and you looked like the van picking them up.” Said the sheriff. Oh shit, that didn’t even sound good at all.

Anyone looking at the back of my van would know that that van is not decorated as a run-away vehicle. It’s much too cluttered. In fact, after the sheriff left I l realized my dark blue underwear were in clear view if he had looked in the back. Blankets, two duffle bag of clothes, a road bike on its side and two cardboard moving boxes fill in the rest. Where would a van load of Mexicans fit in all that?

Still, I was shaken with fear of the unlikely event I could have been taken away as a suspect accomplice. I did a stupid thing pulling over so close to law enforcement officials.

“Well, get on the road and don’t pull over until you get to Carrizo Springs” said the sheriff, and I complied.

Sort of. A few miles later I spotted yet another caracara sitting in a tree top, and I couldn’t let this bird get away. This bird was even closer, and its red crest was more visible. Yet my hands were still shaking from the incident. Shortly after my second stop yet another white USBP van came up behind me and followed me until I pulled into a picnic area. The van pulled in behind me, but then drove past me, looked inside, and drove out and back from whence it came. Really, how many blonde middle-aged white women smuggle illegals into this country or help steal vehicles for the illegals? I didn't want to be the first and was glad to see that USBP van drive away.

I am glad now that I did not opt for the FM roads along the river. “All Farm-to-Market roads are paved” said the tourism man at the visitor’s center, which meant that long road in the middle was gravel road most likely closed and only for USBP use. I would not have had much fun running into a van load of illegals in a stolen car, and from here on out was happy that I was a few miles away from the river and on hard pavement.

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