NOMADVENTURE

  Third Time’s the Charm!   Sorry Base Camp, you’re gonna need to sit this one out… After drowning our sorrows in guacamole at a Mexican takeout joint on the US/Texas side of the border, we hatched Plan B. Leaving our beloved, overweight-by-Mexican-standards Base Camp in Big Bend National Park, we would ford the Rio Grande, and make our way on foot, or by burro to the small village of Boquillas.

Upon our return to Maine for the summer we were invariably asked by everyone, “What sorts of adventures did you all get up to this time?” We could have focused on Base Camp, our school bus that we bought from the local district, and converted into our magic carpet ride, when our sailboat Tiny Bubbles II sold. We could have focused on the manatees that accompanied us as we swam in springs in Florida, the epic climbs of Hueco Tanks, just outside El Paso, or the glorious time we got to spend with friends and family— we could have focused on that… What stuck in our minds were our failures. We had failed in our search for our next boat, and we had failed to enter Mexico. It’s true, Mexico told us we were, “demasiado pesado,” or too heavy. Too heavy?  “Sí.” We had already been rejected at the previous border town of Ciudad Acuña, but we were told our luck could be better 50 miles south in Piedras Negras.  So Close, Yet So Far — Piedras Negras Border The woman in the border office that clicke

Epic Family Fun on The Border   We stood there, my wife Heidi, our 3 young sons, and I, in front of a camera a few hundred yards from Mexico, attempting to re-enter the United States. Heidi looked puzzled, holding the handset to her ear at the U.S. border entry point in Big Bend, National Park. A Customs and Immigration agent was on the other end of the line, over 300 miles away, in El Paso. “What’s the look about,” I wondered. Mexico was an opportunity that popped out of the desert expanse, as our family of five circumnavigated the U.S. by minivan. We were obtaining our backcountry camping permit, and debating the 4X4 capabilities of our Honda Odyssey with the Big Bend park ranger, when Heidi spotted Boquillas del Carmen, Mexico, just across the Rio Grande on the park map. “Can we just go there?” she inquired. “Well, the border’ll be open  till five o’clock . Once it closes it’s closed  until Wednesday ,” the ranger responded. Okay, so today was Sunday, meaning don’t dance the Salsa o