Whew!

 

Chris: Nine hundred plus miles later we are out of Texas which I found far more ruggedly beautiful, complex and contradictory than I knew before visiting so many small towns with such  great people.   But WHEW.  I thought that state would never end.

And now we’re in New Mexico.

I now understand why some people from the west speak with such fondness of the wide open vistas and stunning scenery. 

We camped in the town of Columbus, pop. 1400.

Lunch by the side of the road on highway 9.

One lone cow eating dinner by the wall. (Waiter, I’ll have a pasture for one please).  The farmer only needed to put up fencing on three sides of his property. 

Our campsite was just three miles from a border crossing so we decided to go exploring and see how close we could get.

I rode past border patrol agents dragging big rollers to smooth the sand so that they can more easily identify footprints of people illegally crossing the border.  Most of the day it was just me, some cows and a whole bunch of border patrol agents cruising up and down the 40 mile stretch of highway I was riding on.

This roadway runs parallel to Highway 9 and is the sand they drag looking for footprints.

 Border patrol also drags tires.