I would have stayed longer at the café talking to May but then a group of uppity, loud Seniors came into the building, with a woman who reminded me physically and personality-wise of Nancy Reagan: bossy and loud. I had to leave and left without wishing May well; she was busy making special order smoothies for the Blue Hair Brigade.
It was just at 4pm when I drove off, allowing me enough time to get to Falcon State Park before sunset…if I didn’t get side-tracked like I have so many times. I was nursing a two-quart plastic jug of flavored water to get rehydrated; I could feel the sun zapping my energy today. I need to watch that.
Highway 281 turns north at Pharr and my route now went further west on the Texas Tropical Trail via Hwy 83, along the Rio Grande. It was stop-and-go all the way through Mission, Sullivan City, and past several wildlife refuges (natural tracts of land). I drove to one such refuge but it was gated with an “Authorized Entry only” sign so I continued west on a dirt road that turned out to be the Old Military Trail. One lone Mexican walking west on this gravel road waved at me and smiled. Was he an illegal? How does one tell?
Highway 83 drove past Rio Grande City (which actually had a pretty little historical section) and Roma, where a directional sign pointed me to yet another World Birding Site off the Roma Bluffs. This I had to see.
The river here is scenic from the bluffs, overlooking the Mexican border town of Miguel Aleman. Miguel Aleman has a riverfront park where kids were playing, a truck was parked at the banks with a man in an orange tshirt walking up and down the banks, and dogs barked in the distance. Two men fished off the river's shore. It looked like a pretty little town to wander through at sun set.
The Roma side also has a few blocks of old buildings of the 1880s, some with fainted signs in Spanish advertising for groceries, fruits. I liked this place. The Mexicans cleaning their yards waved at me. This town had a friendly attitude which I appreciated. An informational sign at the overlook stated that Roma, TX is halfway between Brownsville and Laredo. That means I have one more day in the Rio Grande Valley before the desert begins and I start gaining altitude to get prepared for the 5000’ mountains. From Roma north the Rio Grande flows more in a north-south direction.
It was just at 4pm when I drove off, allowing me enough time to get to Falcon State Park before sunset…if I didn’t get side-tracked like I have so many times. I was nursing a two-quart plastic jug of flavored water to get rehydrated; I could feel the sun zapping my energy today. I need to watch that.
Highway 281 turns north at Pharr and my route now went further west on the Texas Tropical Trail via Hwy 83, along the Rio Grande. It was stop-and-go all the way through Mission, Sullivan City, and past several wildlife refuges (natural tracts of land). I drove to one such refuge but it was gated with an “Authorized Entry only” sign so I continued west on a dirt road that turned out to be the Old Military Trail. One lone Mexican walking west on this gravel road waved at me and smiled. Was he an illegal? How does one tell?
Highway 83 drove past Rio Grande City (which actually had a pretty little historical section) and Roma, where a directional sign pointed me to yet another World Birding Site off the Roma Bluffs. This I had to see.
The river here is scenic from the bluffs, overlooking the Mexican border town of Miguel Aleman. Miguel Aleman has a riverfront park where kids were playing, a truck was parked at the banks with a man in an orange tshirt walking up and down the banks, and dogs barked in the distance. Two men fished off the river's shore. It looked like a pretty little town to wander through at sun set.
The Roma side also has a few blocks of old buildings of the 1880s, some with fainted signs in Spanish advertising for groceries, fruits. I liked this place. The Mexicans cleaning their yards waved at me. This town had a friendly attitude which I appreciated. An informational sign at the overlook stated that Roma, TX is halfway between Brownsville and Laredo. That means I have one more day in the Rio Grande Valley before the desert begins and I start gaining altitude to get prepared for the 5000’ mountains. From Roma north the Rio Grande flows more in a north-south direction.
The Rio Grande at this point starts looking like a respectable river, much like the Mississippi in Minnesota or Wisconsin. It is wider here than at the Bentsen-Rio Grande Valley SP.
I knew I needed to eat something before driving on to the state park 10 miles away. I had only had a candy bar at the state park and some cereal in the morning.
It was around 5:30pm when I decided, rather impromptu, to walk across the Puente Internacional into the small town. I paid my fifty cents, walked halfway across and noticed a small rowboat of Mexicans, one with a man wearing a bright red tshirt, float across to the US side. The man in the orange tshirt stood on the banks watching the boat float to the US side. Was he a spotter? The boat floated a little bit, but the four passengers eventually touched ground and disappeared into the brush undetected. Seeing that blatant disregard of immigration law always angers me. Don’t we have sensors along the shore that can detect illegal crossers? And where were the USBP? I had seen one USBP van parked near the overlook just an hour earlier when I walked by. There go four more illegal immigrants to our already 12 million undocumented workers…
Again there were Mexican soldiers posted on the Mexican side of traffic.
I liked the town on a bluff. It wasn’t big, it wasn’t fantastic and it didn’t cater to US tourists. It had character. I walked about ten blocks into the town to the square and city hall, and turned around. There were a few taquerias but I didn’t try my luck. I also didn’t have any small change with me to afford a real burrito meal.
I told the US Border inspectors about the boatload of illegals I saw cross over to the US side. One agent just rolled his eyes and said “They know when we have shift change and that the border patrol won’t be watching. They do this every day.” So if they know when the shift change is, why not have a intermediate shift to handle the change for that hour inbetween? Or how about staggering the shift change every day, an hour here and there? If we have the same time schedule day in, day out then anyone can eventually learn when our vulnerable times are across the border.
Not even an hour later I was back on terra Americana and walked right to the nearby Jack-in-the-box for another cheap meal. I tried calling Kevin but again he was unavailable and after tomorrow I don't know when I'll have cell phone or internet connectivity. A stray cat walked along the sidewalk next to "CG's Snack Shop," a little candy store that put a smile on my face because Kevin calls me "CG" all the time.
It was dark as I drove off from Roma to Falcon State Park, but it wasn't a long drive at all. The road gained elevation as soon as I left the town's lights, I could see the lights along the lake on the Mexican side. This is where I pulled into to camp for the night, under the stars under a waning full moon. Sites with just water were only $4 a night. What a deal! They were $18 at Bentsen-Rio.
It was around 5:30pm when I decided, rather impromptu, to walk across the Puente Internacional into the small town. I paid my fifty cents, walked halfway across and noticed a small rowboat of Mexicans, one with a man wearing a bright red tshirt, float across to the US side. The man in the orange tshirt stood on the banks watching the boat float to the US side. Was he a spotter? The boat floated a little bit, but the four passengers eventually touched ground and disappeared into the brush undetected. Seeing that blatant disregard of immigration law always angers me. Don’t we have sensors along the shore that can detect illegal crossers? And where were the USBP? I had seen one USBP van parked near the overlook just an hour earlier when I walked by. There go four more illegal immigrants to our already 12 million undocumented workers…
Again there were Mexican soldiers posted on the Mexican side of traffic.
I liked the town on a bluff. It wasn’t big, it wasn’t fantastic and it didn’t cater to US tourists. It had character. I walked about ten blocks into the town to the square and city hall, and turned around. There were a few taquerias but I didn’t try my luck. I also didn’t have any small change with me to afford a real burrito meal.
I told the US Border inspectors about the boatload of illegals I saw cross over to the US side. One agent just rolled his eyes and said “They know when we have shift change and that the border patrol won’t be watching. They do this every day.” So if they know when the shift change is, why not have a intermediate shift to handle the change for that hour inbetween? Or how about staggering the shift change every day, an hour here and there? If we have the same time schedule day in, day out then anyone can eventually learn when our vulnerable times are across the border.
Not even an hour later I was back on terra Americana and walked right to the nearby Jack-in-the-box for another cheap meal. I tried calling Kevin but again he was unavailable and after tomorrow I don't know when I'll have cell phone or internet connectivity. A stray cat walked along the sidewalk next to "CG's Snack Shop," a little candy store that put a smile on my face because Kevin calls me "CG" all the time.
It was dark as I drove off from Roma to Falcon State Park, but it wasn't a long drive at all. The road gained elevation as soon as I left the town's lights, I could see the lights along the lake on the Mexican side. This is where I pulled into to camp for the night, under the stars under a waning full moon. Sites with just water were only $4 a night. What a deal! They were $18 at Bentsen-Rio.
No comments:
Post a Comment