127 miles from the nearest traffic light

On most days, you can see Mexico in the distance.

The enormity, vastness and isolation of the Chihuahuan Desert and Big Bend National Park became evident miles before we entered it. The nearest traffic light can be found in the town of Ft. Stockton, Texas, a mere 127 miles away. Neither broadcast TV stations nor cable are available in the park, and rumor has it that on a really good night, if you aim your antenna just right, you might be able to pick up the NPR station broadcasting out of Marfa, Texas 131 miles away. (Again, that's just rumor.)

A park ranger leads our volunteer class on a field trip to

Indian Head, an archaeological study area at BiBe.

The nearby town of Terlingua/Study (pronounced “STOO-dee”) Butte boasts a general store – small but with a surprising selection of items available to anyone willing to make the 24 mile drive from the staff/volunteer housing area at Panther Junction. (We'll add another 20 miles to that after we relocate to Persimmon Gap at the north end of the park this weekend.)

 Not everything is remote. The park houses several hundred people living in government rental housing or RV sites. In addition to us National Park Service volunteers, this includes paid staff from the Park Service, U.S. Border Patrol, and the concessionaire that manages BiBe's (short for Big Bend) lodge, restaurant, campground stores and the park's sole non-NPS run RV campground, as well as their spouses and children. There is a public K-8 school – average attendance 20 students - although high school students must travel to Terlingua to attend classes.

Infrastructure supporting staff and park visitors includes water management facilities, a post office, fire department and emergency medical services. The latter generally aid visitors in distress, though they did assist in the unexpected home delivery of a baby born to the wife of a Park Service employee the weekend we arrived.

Despite these signs of civilization, make no mistake. We live in the wilderness. Kong backs up to a large arroyo (dry creek bed) that serves as a kind of wildlife highway, allowing all manner of critters to pass from one end of our little barrio to the other.


In October, tarantulas wander the roads looking for love

(and hoping not to get run over).

So far, we've seen one as-yet unidentified snake (non-poisonous, thank you very much) and lots of javelina – a harmless, albeit seriously near-sighted animal whose desire to move closer to unwitting pedestrians in an attempt to see them is sometimes mistaken for aggression. Tarantulas searching for mates can be seen wandering the streets and even climbing the walls of buildings. One of our neighbors was driving his son to school and spotted a Mexican black bear and her cub as they darted out from behind a dumpster. And one of our orientation presenters shared news of her encounter with a mountain lion she caught lounging in front of her car.



Encounter of the coyote kind. Sprocket made it clear he

wanted nothing to do with this beauty!

While these encounters seem interesting to me and Leonard, I can't say Sprocket shares that interest. We spotted a coyote on our way back from a shopping trip to Terlingua. Sprocket, being the scent hound that he is, slept soundly on Truckzilla's back seat, that is until we moved downwind. Then, the dog's nose and survival instincts kicked in. He started barking and pacing frantically. Once he realized he had nowhere to run, our boy collapsed into a shaking pile of fur, unable to relax until we had put several miles between us and the predator.

(Who needs TV when you can watch Animal Planet from your window?)

Although we have not quite completed orientation, Leonard and I already sense that our three months here promise to be rich, rewarding and unique. What a way to spend retirement!



Signs of pre-historic life at BiBe. Shown here are remnants of a rock oven built by Native Americans who lived in the area as long as 12,000 years ago.

Petroglyphs like this make Indian Head a tempting target for poachers seeking relics for profit.

BiBe is full of breathtaking geological features. Its rock formations are too soft for the park to be considered a climbing destination.



BiBe is home to a rich diversity of plant and animal life. The Big Bend

mosquitofish exists in the pond shown along with two others at BiBe and

nowhere else on Earth.

This border crossing links BiBe to the remote Mexican village of Boquillas.

Bring your passport, and don't stay late. The crossing closes promptly at 6:00 p.m.

Visitors not wishing to walk across the Rio Grande to Mexico can take a ferry – actually, a guy in a row boat (top right) – to a collection of mules, horses and taxis waiting to carry them to Boquillas for lunch, souvenir shopping and sightseeing.

Over the centuries, a few hardy souls scratched out a living

on settlements that are now part of BiBe. Descendants still

visit some of the graves.

Sandstone formations at Ernst Tinaja, site of one of our orientation field trips. Stunning!

 

In dryer times when the water level drops, the slick, steep sides of Ernst Tinaja make accessing the precious water within it nearly impossible, even for the most cunning of creatures, as is evidenced by claw marks in the rock.