World Travel Guide Online

Border Rowing
Big Bend, Texas

It can be difficult to do anything on a whim in America. Our public transportation system, outside of major cities, is far from comprehensive, making it necessary to plan in advance if you’re hoping to catch a train from Birmingham to Big Sur. Budget accommodations are sparse and if you’re planning on grabbing an open bed at one of the hostels in this country you might want to call ahead to make sure there’s room. And if you’re lucky enough to have your own car, make sure to read those parking signs before you go into the museum because chances are, you can’t park there.

Things have been further complicated by the terrorist attacks in September. We went to Tijuana on a whim and we paid for it during the six hours we waited to get back across the new and improved border security. On our way to Las Vegas we were stopped outside of the Hoover Dam by the military for a quick inspection and during our drives through California, Arizona, New Mexico, and Texas we made more stops at border patrol booths than gas stations. Sometimes it’s hard to ignore all the rules and guidelines in America but if you go out on your own it occasionally works out for the better.

Santa Elena Canyon and Rio Grande River in Big Bend, Texas. One side is the USA, the other is Mexico.

We were standing on the banks of the Rio Grande River in Texas’ Big Bend National Park trying to act casual. The guy in the rowboat kept asking if we wanted to come over and we were doing our best to hide behind a twig of a tree until we came to a decision. We knew that we wanted to go to Boquillas but we couldn’t shake the feeling that it was too easy and we would pay the price later. After seeing countless border patrols outside the park, could going to Mexico really be this uncomplicated? We told the guy in the boat that we wanted a ride and he rowed over to our side of the river. For two dollars per person we bought a round-trip rowboat ride across the Rio Grande. Thirty seconds later we were in Mexico being greeted by a small army of young men offering to take us into town by horse, pick-up truck, or donkey. We decided to walk the mile into town and set off following the tire tracks in the dust. Any uneasiness I felt dissipated when we came upon an entire family, including a grandma and a couple of toddlers, riding horses in our direction. If an eighty-year-old woman is doing this I figured we’d be just fine.

Boquillas is a small town that derives its main source of income from the folks who cross over through Big Bend. The main gig in town is Jose Falcone’s which consists of a store, bar, and restaurant and it’s easy to pick out; just look for the crowd of Americans sitting around in the sun drinking beers and eating tacos. We headed in and grabbed a couple of beers for a dollar before making ourselves comfortable on the patio. A local was playing tunes on his guitar while everyone ate, drank, and watched the day go by.

Just as we ordered our second round, three SUVs, filled with border patrol officers, roared into the middle of town. I thought all of us might have to make a clumsy dash for the river but no one else seemed to care and I went back to staring at the mountains. The guys next to us, a group of four American businessmen, introduced themselves and asked if we wanted to join them on a “cantina crawl” around town. There’s only one other bar in Boquillas and we had another hour before the last boat left so we followed them to the nameless place across the street. Brian and I were able to splurge and buy a round of drinks for our new friends – at a dollar a beer we could afford to feel like big shots.

When it came time to catch our pickup truck back to the river we all headed out to the bathrooms. A word to all the women with small bladders out there: unless you’re graceful enough to pee in a hole in the ground located in a three-sided hut while there’s a group of men staring at you, I suggest you do as I did and hold it until you get back to your campsite. All six of us piled into the back of a pickup truck and then took the last rowboat ride of the day across the Rio Grande. There wasn’t a single measure of security that we had to pass through – no passports, driver’s licenses, or pleading necessary.

It turned out to be that easy. I have a harder time getting into an R-rated movie without my ID then we did crossing the border that day. It proved to me that every once and while, even if everything else is a hassle, you can still paddle over to Mexico on a whim (as long as you know the right spot to find a guy with a rowboat handy).

Big Bend Info

Herds of Javelinas roamed the campground every evening.

We stayed at the Rio Grande Village campground because it had the lowest elevation (therefore the warmest spot to sleep) but there are a few other spots to choose from, including a campground in the mountains. The Rio Grande Village is the closest campground to Boquillas, Mexico, the natural hot springs, and has a gas station and store. Big Bend is a huge park so plan on doing a lot of driving (there are at least two gas stations inside the park). If you want to do some rafting, kayaking, etc and you need to rent boats you should contact a local outfitter; Big Bend does not have any boating services within the park.