He sent us to inspections - five guys and a hammer. One guy took the hammer and started banging on our gas tank. Another guy sat down to interview me while the rest fumbled through the forty pounds of camera equipment in the trunk.
"Why were you in Mexico for only half an hour?"
"Nothing to do," I said.
The interviewer, a Mexican-American, seemed defensive and said, "there is a lot more to do in Juarez than El Paso."
I agreed.
"There is a dog racing park..."
Exactly my point. I asked him what the fuss was.
"It's suspicious that someone would only spend half an hour in Juarez."
I think that summed it up, and I said we were on our way to an international chili pepper festival in New Mexico, and we really had no business in El Paso or Juarez. We were just passing through.
They cleared us, and I realized I had just inadvertently messed with Texas. I had no worry about the border guards though - I had been dealing with them for years. My real concern was - would it shake up Jane? In our first times on the road together, I had already managed to send her tumbling off the deck of a boat, and managed to get her stung by a four foot long ancestor of the jellyfish. Yeah, a Sea Wasp, they say it's the most dangerous stinging creature in the ocean.
Driving through El Paso is like driving through a factory - on this morning, the city had the distinct smell of a freshly opened can of cat food. Even in the blistering sun, the place felt gray and dismal, with its backdrop of Juarez slums, its smokestacks, dated architecture and awful looking chain burger restaurants.
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Festivities at the International Chili Festival |
The land changed as we pass into New Mexico; the pounding of the sun felt welcome, and the whole flatness and red earth was cheery. Not beautiful, but somewhere indistinct, as if not far from home.
The mirage of water on the road is so intense in the midday heat that the mirror sheen creeps up to the wheels of our car. I am reminded, speeding on this mirage of flat sea, of Miyazaki's water train in the animated 'Spirited Away' - a journey from a mad city into the wilderness, to find answers.
The road to Alamogordo is flat, although there are always mountains in the background. Southern New Mexico's valleys are smooth as suede, the low brush like napped bristles. I tell Jane we are passing through the Trinity Site.