Desert rats

Thinking back over my life, I realize that there many things my momma never gave me advice about. Oh sure, I got the usual litany of “Don’t run with scissors”, "Don't talk to strangers", “Finish your food, children in Africa are starving” and “Wash behind your ears”.... just to name a few. But there are many others that I’ve had to learn the hard way. A couple of weeks ago I learned yet another one; Don’t drive cars down dirt roads out in the middle of a desert.

Margaret and I started heading back to Texas a couple of weeks ago. We had spent about six weeks in California and it was time to head back to Texas to get ready for the next phase of our travels around the country. Our route took us along Interstate 8 between El Centro, California, and Yuma, Arizona. That part of the world is nothing but miles and miles of desert, punctuated by only an occasional oasis of humanity. For several miles, the highway is literally just a few hundred feet from the U.S./Mexican border and considering the high visibility that illegal immigration is getting these days, I got to wondering what the border looked like in that area. Was there a fence? A moat, like around a castle? A mine field? Armed guards posted every 15 feet? Or what?

There were occasional off ramps from the Interstate and finally my curiosity got the best of me and I took the next one we came to. That put us off onto a blacktop road heading straight toward the border. However, after about 500 feet, the blacktop ended and it became a dirt road. But, it seemed to be in pretty good condition and I could see tire tracks from other vehicles so we continued our southerly trek. After a few hundred more feet, there was the border. No fence, no moat, no mine field, no armed guards…. just a lonely stone marker in the middle of the desert. No wonder they are able to get here so easily.

Having now satisfied my curiosity, I started to turn around and go back to the freeway. Now is when I could have used mom's missing advice. Unfortunately, in the process of turning around, I got slightly off the road and.... you guessed it.... got stuck in some of the California desert’s finest sand. Wheels turning furiously, sand spraying everywhere, I got nowhere.

A few years ago, this predicament might have been a little more dire but thanks to modern technology, I merely whipped out our cell phone and the nearest friendly AAA tow truck was speedily dispatched to our rescue. After the kind gentleman towed our car to firmer ground, I inquired if he had to rescue other desert dummies very often. “All the time” was his slightly humor laced answer. It would seem that a lot of other mothers have fallen down on the job too.

Horribly embarrassing pictures in the current pictures gallery.