Upriver on the Rio Grande — Unruly Skoolie

The winds proved too much for us and at 4am we decided it was enough. The bus was getting throttled and we couldn’t sleep anyway so Skeets got behind the wheel and drove us the heck out of there.

I woke up in Alamogordo. The air was cool, the wind all but nonexistent and everyone was in good spirits, including the bus who made it up some steep terrain while I slept without overheating. Maybe this is why so many skoolies stick to cooler climates.

After some breakfast at a local diner we took the short drive to White Sands National Monument. What fascinating land! Here, where what used to be a salty sea, lays acres of pure white sand dunes, the remnants of water dissolved gypsum rubbing forever against itself until it becomes this beautiful fine sand.

We set up shop for a couple of hours while Phoenix played contentedly in the sand and we mused about the other adventure vehicles coming and going.

There are always plenty of standard RVs with names like Shasta, Road Warrior or Emancipator. But then there are the old mini-winnies and the German Fiat van and every now and then we run across a Unimog. Impressive buggers. My favorite people behind the wheels of the these rigs are inevitably friendly old-timers who are retired and roadies mostly full time. These wise old outdoorsy types are no strangers to adventure and the trials and rewards along the way. They used to mountaineer or they did the Appalachian Trail fifty years ago or they lived in an old school bus a million years ago. Anyway, their kids are grown with kids of their own so they’re usually happy to see a young family in a cool rig out on the open road. I can see myself in them already. I hope I’m that cool in forty years.

We find ourselves this evening in Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. I wish the story of how this town went from Hot Springs, NM to T or C was more gripping, but for someone who values and exudes sometimes brutal honesty, it seems like a fitting place to call home for a few days. Besides, natural hot springs are my favorite things on earth. We find a perfect parking spot in town right next to the beautiful Rio Grande and a block away on either side from a playground and a rustic resort where we plan to soak tomorrow.

It’s amazing to have seen so much of this river from the headwaters near Toas, all through the Big Bend and eventually down to the Gulf. Creosote cactus is still sparsely present telling us that we are still at home in our beloved Chihuahuan Desert. It’s still the place we met, the place we married. And although a thousand miles downstream, it’s still the river that will take my dad’s and sister’s ashes out to sea.

Last winter in the Big Bend near Solis campsite.

May the strength of the river be within us always.