By Elizabeth Prata
When I was married we traveled for our days. We had gotten rid of all our debt, lived in a mortgage free cabin, and saved. This was so that we would have discretionary funds to do what we wanted, and what we wanted was to see the world.
I was not saved at this time, but boy, the Bible is so right when it says idleness is not good for the soul. We do need to work. But anyway, we traveled and one of our first trips was across the southern tier of the US by VW pop-up camper van.
We fell in love with the desert of west Texas, something that I as a New Englander, was surprised about. But the tumbleweeds sagebrush, clear night skies, lack of humidity, were all attractive. Of course, we were there in winter, not summer, lol. I suspect my feelings might have changed if we camped in 107 degree temps, in searing sands.
Big Bend National Park at the bottom left side of Texas is a national treasure. It is 801,163 acres and comprises 1250 square miles. It borders Mexico with the Rio Grande running through the Cottonwood campground.
Boquillas is a walking port of entry to the US from Mexico and abuts the Cottonwood campground. The river is high now and the port of entry is closed due to high water, but when we were there, the river was anything but 'grande'.
EPrata photo
We crossed and walked the half mile to town, chickens in the street, tumbleweeds, a few school children in Catholic uniforms walking home. One restaurant. It was interesting and fun.
When we got back I wrote a short story about if I had a dog that ran across: here it is
The dog ran into Mexico and I had to go after him. The Rio Grande was narrow here and he saw a horse come to graze at dusk and so he grabbed his chance for a little fun. Too bad the dog doesn't know about geopolitical and economic boundaries. All he saw was a horse and a field and a chance for some fun.
I hear him barking in Boquillas now and I'm not looking forward to running into that guy selling mineral earrings again he scared me with his pitiful intense desperation...'look at me I made these aren't they beautiful' and he touched my sleeve.
So I slip off my sneakers and tie the laces in a good knot and sling them over my shoulders. I try hard not to notice the myriad of paw prints in the mud by the river. They look like muddy hieroglyphics from big things with sharp teeth come to graze. My feet slip in the oozy mud, my prints now mingling with last night's prints of prey and predator.
I run splashing and loud across the river drowning out the cattails' whisper announcing my arrival in a foreign country without a passport
So that was as far as I got in my story. I was experimenting with creative writing, but I have a hard time with imagination, so the many half-started efforts in the notebook I found sputtered out partway through.
We loved traveling across the country. We have a beautiful nation and it's diverse and filled with good people. We enjoyed the freedom of movement. I'm glad we took the 3-month trip from Maine to Key West to San Diego up to Monterey and back. If you ever have a chance to do it you should. Make memories. maybe even write a half-finished short story 
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