Texas Desert

I'm far far away from the cities and concrete. The Texas desert is chilly, though nothing like ice climbing weather in New England. The trees kept getting smaller and smaller as I motored west and eventually made way to bushes. The roads are lined with fences which, I presume, are to keep the cattle out of the road. I saw my friend the hawk again today.

I sing during much of my time. I sing to the land around me, I sing my gratitude and sing nonsense too. I sang to the rain as it dried up. The sky was thick with clouds in the afternoon, but it didn't rain. When I left San Antonio it was raining slightly.

The Border Patrol is very active around here. I passed through one check point and talked with an officer who chuckled at my riding in the "cold" weather. I later saw some other officers dragging tires behind their truck on the dirt road that paralleled the pavement on the Mexican side of things. My guess is that they were wiping the tracks clean so that they could see if people were crossing. I thought that effort was pretty elaborate.

There have been many Mexican peoples in my travels. I've eaten at a couple of Mexican restaurants and even had Pollo con Mole (chicken with Mole sauce). I guess I'm getting my stomach ready for the real deal.