2006/01 Southwest USA trip (MN-TX) - Solis, Big Bend |
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By the time we got back to the camper it was 85 degrees. Hate to be here in July! We drove back to the visitor centre and booked our next campsite on the eastern side of the park, 15 miles in from the main road. By now we were starting to remember the names of all the strange plants that live in the desert. There are hundreds of cactus varieties: prickly pear in green, purple, and orange, with and without spines, barrel cactus, and a whole family of little ankle-spearing varieties. There are also the other plants, lechugilla and sotol with their head high flower stems, agave with even bigger stems, ocotillos (or coachwhips) with thorn-laden branches, and yuccas that grow head-high and then branch out with flower stems. These all have defenses: dagger-pointed leaves or saw edges or thorns on stems or leaves.
We drove to Rio Grande village to stock up on beer and milk, and then set off for our next campsite, but we thought we had longenough to take a look at the old Hot Springs resort. This flourished back in the 1940s and 50s, with a 
bathhouse built over the springs (which of course cured all kinds of ailments) and a motel and store. Now they are only ruins, but the hot springs are still flowing into the Rio Grande at about hot-bath temperature. The trail to the springs is squeezed between the cliffs and the giant cane plants that grow along the banks of the Rio Grande. We ended up spending too long there, and we then had to rush
to get to our campsite before dark. The River Road is mostly good gravel but with a few spots with patches of sand, some sheer drop-offs, a few where the road seemed to drop down a cliff, and a few more where wewere crossing over a creek bed. If it rained we could be there for a while! There’s a saying that there are two easy ways to die in the desert: from thirst or drowning. A creek bed can be dry for years and then suddenly become a raging torrent because of a storm, and sometimes the storm may happen miles away, giving you no warning.
The road headed southwest straight into the setting sun, so most of it was a blur. We passed some burros
(donkeys). They looked to be wild, but they could be escapees from some Mexican farm. At the end of the road we found the Solis campsite, a patch of sand overlooking the river valley. This was a desolate and beautiful spot, with great cliffs around us.
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Our campsite and the Rio Grande are shown on this letter’s front page. It was not quiet though. We could hear the sounds of goats, burros, and cow bells coming across the river from some Mexican community.
Friday January 13th
I found that we could get down to the river, but some paths were not easy, requiring tunneling through the cane along game trails to get to the beach. The bank on the Mexican side looked too high to cross the river, but what was the trail on the American side for, anyway? This is one of the places where the Mexicans crossed the river to raid American settlements back in Pancho Villa’s day.
Local exploration showed that this area is a great source of agates and jasper, though collecting isn’t allowed as this is a national park. The agates seem to keep company with ankle-stabbing cactus.