I crossed the Rio Grande into Mexico, bypassing all official border stations and every immigration or customs officer, and returned the same way. I suppose this was technically illegal although it was allowed with a wink and a nod on both sides of the boundary. After all, the nearest official crossing was more than a hundred miles away. That’s how things had always worked at this spot when I crossed here years before thoughts of 9-11 and the resulting fears of a porous border.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I mentioned my epic trip around the United States<\/a> a couple of days ago. I also said I wouldn’t post much about that on Twelve Mile Circle unless I came across a geo-oddity. Well, I stumbled across this one as I leafed through my photos and it triggered a flood of memories.<\/p>\n\n\n\n A snaking river cuts through unforgiving desert terrain to create the distinctive shape of southwestern Texas on a map. It also forms a long stretch of an international border between the United States and Mexico. People call it the Rio Grande on the northern side of the border and R\u00edo Bravo del Norte on the south. A large curve or crook appears along its length, and within that cradle sits an American nature preserve called Big Bend National Park<\/a>. I crossed paths with that area on a sunny afternoon in May 1992 (map<\/a>).<\/p>\n\n\n\n My companions all wanted to hike Emory Peak, the highest point in Big Bend at 7,832 feet. I declined. I’d noticed something odd, a little dotted line on the park map representing a “ferry,” leading across the border to a tiny town called Boquillas del Carmen in the Mexican state of Coahuila.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Amazingly, even this insignificant town now appears in digital clarity on Google’s satellite view:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nThe Big Bend of the Rio Grande<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\n\n\n\nBoquillas del Carmen<\/h2>\n\n\n\n