Texas Travel

Thanksgiving in Big Bend, Pt. 1

Culture, Photography, Travel

 

The first time I ever experienced a major holiday away from home was our first year living in Boston.

Though my heart longed to spend that Thanksgiving with my family, knowing we’d  soon be heading home for Christmas, we instead went to New York where we spent the holiday with some of Jacob’s relatives.

That Thanksgiving was a bit unusual for me as we celebrated as a party of 10 or so,  instead of a party of 50, but it was quiet, and relaxing, and truly one of my most memorable holidays.

Living in a big city at that time, I was quite used to cooking in a kitchen the size of a closet, so spending a long weekend in a spacious, country home was a dream. I still remember vividly making my first totally from scratch green bean casserole, and some amazing brussels sprouts dish I prepared from one of Jacob’s aunt’s magazines.

I spent most of that day in the kitchen with his aunt, laughing and talking and getting to know her more closely. By the end of that day I no longer felt so homesick, and settled in that night grateful for family, when the rest of mine was so far away.

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Last year marked another interesting holiday. Back to a small celebration, we spent Thanksgiving here in Austin with our pup, my parents, and their small dog L.E. A table of four felt so small, but it was a memorable experience to be able to cook my first full Thanksgiving meal and host my own family.

The turkey was flavorful and moist, the pumpkin pie was divine, and again, the peace and quiet was amazing.

Growing accustomed to these small and peaceful Thanksgiving celebrations, this year, we decided to have our most untraditional Thanksgiving yet, spending it in the desert for a long weekend of camping.

Still wanting a somewhat traditional holiday, I decided to cook a full Thanksgiving spread before we left town to enjoy on Thanksgiving day. Having roasted a 12 pound bird (for only two people), preparing stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, a casserole, and a pie, I had big expectations about our Thanksgiving meal, and even bigger ideas about what this blog post would look like.

I envisioned pictures of our plates with jagged mountain peaks in the background; shots of the cheese course centered on the picnic table surrounded by cups of wine. I thought i’d show artistic photos of our tent and the campfire, and then talk about how fun and manageable it was to celebrate a holiday in the great outdoors.

This is not how this post is going to go.

Instead of  this romanticized, idealistic Thanksgiving I had envisioned, we spent the holiday in Mexico, where we had our most memorable Thanksgiving yet.

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Settled in Southwest Texas, Big Bend National park features sweeping desert landscapes, dramatic canyons, rugged mountains, and shares 118 miles of its park boundary with Chihuahua and Coahuila Mexico. Knowing that there was a border crossing located within the park, we knew that stepping over into Mexico was something we wanted to do during our trip, we just didn’t expect our time there to be all that is was.

An isolated and primitive outpost amidst a vast wilderness, 150 miles from any major town on either side of the border lies Boquillas del Carmen, Mexico.

Once a town of around 300, because of the border closure in 2002 (due to the events of 9/11), by 2006, the population of Boquillas dropped to around only 90 residents. Eleven years later in 2013, the border reopened, helping to revive Boquillas’ population, which is now home to about 200 people.

Besides for two small restaurants and one bar, there’s not much to see or do here, but wanting this tiny tourist town to succeed, the Mexican government has done what they can, providing supplies to fix older buildings, and paint to freshen up the look of the place. And finally, in 2015, solar panels were installed so that residents could enjoy reliable electricity…

Our journey to Boquillas started at the U.S. Boquillas Crossing Port of Entry where we learned the rules about crossing over into Mexico (don’t bring back alcohol, rocks, etc…) From there, we hopped an “international ferry” and were transported 15 yards away across a knee deep river. After politely saying no to a man with a burro offering us a ride, we walked the quarter of a mile into town and started our adventure in Mexico.

Once arriving to town and checking in with customs, we decided on one of the two restaurant choices (both I believe are owned by the same family, serve the same food,  and are are literally just across the dusty road from each other), and grabbed a spot outside in the shade to enjoy the views and excitement.

For lunch we had tacos with teeny fried flour tortillas and a plate of tamales, and washed it all down with a couple of potent margaritas. We enjoyed live entertainment, AKA a man with a very out of tune guitar, made friends with strangers (who just happened to originally be from Austin), and enjoyed the company of a lively local.

Esteban was the man who originally offered us a ride on his burro, and after spending lunch talking with him, I was disappointed we didn’t accept. Over a peach juice and a couple of Carta Blancas, Esteban told us about his time in Boquillas (he has lived there his entire life), about his mountain guiding services, and about how he walks four days through the desert each year to the nearest town for some extra work.

In the midst of all the hatred we’ve seen towards immigrants and minorities this election season, Esteban was a breath of fresh air. His authenticity and kindness was refreshing, and our time spent with him was one of the best parts of our day.

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After buying a copper scorpion from Esteban and bidding him farewell, we left with our new Texan friends and their guide to take a short tour of the town. We saw the small church and school, water supply tank, and solar panels before finding ourselves in the town’s only cantina where we enjoyed more good conversation over a couple of shots of Sotol. Coming from an unmarked bottle behind the counter, similar to tequila, Sotol is distilled from the dasylirion wheeleri plant native the Northern Mexico. It was smooth, tasty, and was probably safer to drink than the water. Even if the bottle did look a little sketchy…

After an hour or so of getting to know our new friends and a round of Carta Blancas, we hurried our way back across the river, just barely in time for the border closing, and continued our random Thanksgiving day at some hot springs nearby.

Finally, around 7:00 pm when the sky grew dark, we drove the hour back to our campsite to enjoy our Thanksgiving meal. After quickly reheating the food I worked so hard to prepare, I took one lame picture of my plate in the dark, and then crawled into the tent for bed before 9:00. By the time Jacob had returned from cleaning the dishes, I was sound asleep, dreaming of tacos, and our Thanksgiving adventure in Mexico.

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A Weekend on Padre Island

Culture, Photography, Travel

There are few things that rejuvenate me more than traveling. Whether hopping a plane for an extended trip, or packing the car for a quick weekend adventure, the level of excitement I feel over exploring a new place is always the same.

When we lived in Boston, traveling was easy. A trip to the beach was never more than an hour away, a trip to the mountains just a little more. We could be to the country in only 30 minutes, and often, our favorite adventures were had right out our own backdoor.

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Traveling in Texas hasn’t been quite as easy. Nearly four times the size of New England, Texas travel takes much more time. We have a running list of places in the state we’d love to visit, but until we have the time for 7-10 hour drives, we’ll just have to keep those trips on hold.

Bored with our frequent Hill Country visits but eager for adventure, with a forecasted 82 degree high, last weekend, we headed south to explore the Texas coast.IMG_0602

I’d longed to see the Gulf ever since moving to Texas. Only three hours from Austin, it’s a place I figured we’d visit often. Well, it only took a year and a half living in Austin to get us there, but at least we finally made it.

Though unseasonably crowded for the end of January, we were still able to find seclusion, and the relaxation we were after. Upon arriving on Saturday after a desolate drive, we ventured off road and took our car down the beach for a few miles to find ourselves a quiet spot. Tucked away next to the dunes we set up camp and spent the afternoon playing with Heidi, our beach-loving pup.

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Though Heidi deeply enjoyed the ocean, she more so loved the sand. She spent hours running and splashing, and making a mess digging holes. She chased birds and played football, and caked her face with sand. She was a mess, but hysterical, and watching her was my favorite part of the day.

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Once the sun hit the horizon, we settled in next to the fire with our dinner and mugs of wine. We stayed up late talking, watching the stars and listening to the waves. Come midnight, we finally crawled into our tent and went to bed, tired from the wine and conversation, and soothed by the sound of the wind and crashing water just feet away. IMG_9558

On Sunday we relaxed to an interesting cycle of sun and haze. One minute it would be so terribly gray that we thought surely we’d be stormed on, and the next there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. This went on for a good hour or two before the sun finally won and kept the clouds away. Soaking up the sunshine and the cool ocean breeze, we spent the remainder of our morning reading and resting, before packing up and heading on our way.

On our way out we grabbed fried fish from a seafood shack in town and enjoyed it on the beach before calling it a day. Bidding Padre Island farewell, I inhaled the ocean air one last time, already longing for my next weekend away.