Been doing that traveling thing again...

Once the itch is under the proverbial skin, I must scratch with the wheels of my Jeep.

I've barely just returned to the south and yet the west calls again. I left Alabammy with bearded mountain man Willing McMurder and headed west, barreling (slang for an act or instance of moving rapidly, often recklessly, in a motor vehicle) through Tex-ass with as much interest as if I were dead. Disclaimer: referring to physically dead, not spiritually, because friends, seriously, I do plan to be Living it up when I'm dead. We swiftly made it to El Paso, TX having only spent one night in the Jeep--windows rolled down to escape the sweltering sticky heat--even in the pouring, southern, massive droplet rain.

Crossing the border to Mexico seemed the next obvious step in our travels and so we hopped the "Border Jumper trolley" for a mere $12 and crossed the Rio which was a bit "dried up," stretching out to a whopping 5 ft in width. I couldn't have drown myself in that river with a plastic bag around my head and weights strapped to my feet. What's all the hooplah of trying to escape the customs, eh?

Spent a couple days in Juarez, crazy touristy border city, returning with nothing but the regret of having not purchased a Sponge Bob Square Pants pinata.

So, freshly back in the States after, oddly, no search what-so-ever from customs, we're cruising through NM, toasty-burned, squinty eyed, and tired, and we decide we'll stop in Pie Town, NM for some...pie. Population 60 people. We find only one bakery that's closed, but across the street from it is a chunk of land that says 'Camping, Free'. Alas, we embark.

Sitting out in forefront of the land is an old man whose face is just screaming, "Come talk to me, I'll share my world with you." His name is Bob Sundown, an 85 yr old natural story teller. For many years he has traveled in his covered wagon while being pulled by a team of mules. He now lives in this said wagon on this land that the government gave to his old war buddy for winning two congressional medals.

Sundown has been kicked by a mule and now has a colostomy bag. He has been shot in the side by a pack of crazy thieves who attempted to jump his ride (aka wagon) and rob him. Sounds a bit like he stole that scene from Robin Hood. He also only has one eyeball...didn't get the story on that one. So, he takes us around this plot of 170 acres and teaches us the fruits of the land. He shows us what we can eat (chef's salad--nickname), what we can make tea out of (sage and chamomile), what we can use to heal our dry desert skin (milk weed). He raised three girls in the back of the wagon and one son all while on the road. His wife died in a car accident and he forever swore off driving a car. Every summer he'd work on a ranch in order to be able to send them to school in the fall. We just sat there, eyes and mouths wide open, soaking in his history.The next morning, after camping next to some wildly loud coyotes--I swear I wasn't scared at all--we went to the only cafe' to get coffee and pie and took Sundown in thanks for teaching us. After we got our food he prayed for us, prayed for safe travels and health. He now organizes with the local high school AG teachers and gets the kids to take field trips to him where he can teach them of the local plants of the land.

That's the spice of traveling right there, meeting those who are so rich and full of life.