Enjoying the sun and water in Texas Photo credit: Gerry Feehan
On the prowl – deep in the heart of Texas
Sunday
It’s late November, Van Horn, Texas. We are bunked at the “recently upgraded” Mountain View RV Park that is now, as the sign hopefully proclaims, “Under” New Management.
Our RV comes equipped with a modern, state-of-the-art, cable input hook-up. We can enjoy Mountain View’s full 13 channels of viewing pleasure without leaving the comfort of our own coach. Gone are those long evenings in the laundromat fighting for the channel changer with a blue-haired ex-beauty from Des Moines. (Alas, poor American television options remain; when forced to choose between parental-abuse reality shows and Laurence Welk re-runs on PBS, old Laurie takes the conductor’s baton, hands down.)
Tomorrow we depart for Big Bend National Park in southwest Texas, where the Rio Grande separates Mexico from the Excited States. Although this necessitates a detour from our Floridian destination we are optimistic the river views will be beautiful… assuming we can see over the fence.
Monday
No fence obscures the Rio Grande. And there’s surprisingly little border security; just a dinky little river distinguishes Texas from Chihuahua.
We arrived at sunset just in time for Big Bend Park’s evening program entitled “Cougars at Night”. This is an uncomfortable subject for many men.
I was surprised to learn that nocturnal carnivores populate this spot near the Mexican border. The moon was full, illuminating the amphitheater. But the park interpreter was a no-show. The 20 or so attendees began shuffling out into the Texas night. In an effort to abate their disappointment, I began an impromptu talk on the night sky. The audience shuffled tentatively back to their seats. I bullshitted about the cosmos – waxing on about the waning moon – punctuating my lecture with skyward gesticulations.
When I finished a beefy southern blond approached me, “You sure know a lot about the stars. You must be from around here.” I was uncertain whether this was just genuine stupidity or the world’s worst pick-up line. I assured her we were all from the same local super-cluster of galaxies and headed for the camper.
Walking the moonlit road, I kept a wary eye to the rear. One can never be too careful where cougars are concerned.
Gerry
