I become (briefly) a Winter Texan - part two

Before coming, I had somehow thought that ‘Rio Grande Valley’ meant a pleasantly pastoral Texas vale with a few cattle posed picturesquely on the hills. In fact, the area is as flat as an unfilled tortilla.

It does, however, have the requisite horses, windmills and cacti.




Mission, the town closest to Don and Jode’s, has touches of the frontier. As recently as 1915, there were Old West shootouts on this street.

One of the town’s claims to fame is as birthplace of Tom Landry, celebrated in the States as the highly successful late coach of the Dallas Cowboys. He’s commemorated in a mural usually blocked by traffic. Fortunately I got here on Sunday when, unlike Toronto, most residents seem to be in church.

When not in church, natives – and visitors – may have a drink or two. Not surprising with margaritas at $1 each at some local bars. Or they might choose to drink at home after seeing one of the many ‘Driving While Intoxicated Kills’ wrecks scattered beside the roads. Texans believe in being blunt.

Rio Grande means ‘big river’, but near Don and Jode’s it’s not much wider than the Don River in downtown Toronto. Here’s my first sight of the river from the U.S. side.

Don spotted this inner tube – handy for a quick swim into the United States – floating near the Mexican bank.

The river just about sums up the state of the border – fluid.

Reynosa, the Mexican city closest to Don and Jode, is a major drug town and the local newspaper for the American side of the Rio Grande Valley regularly reports on killings. Further up the river, three people connected with the U.S. Consulate in Ciudad Juarez have been murdered during my stay.

Winter Texans don’t cross the border as much as they used to. However, one small Mexican town – Nuevo Progreso – is considered reasonably safe - and that despite a recent main street shootout. In December, soldiers and gunmen exchanged shots while tourists ran for cover. No visitors were hurt, but it's thought two Mexicans may have died. Mexican authorities are often vague about fatalities.

Past the Mexican soldiers and you’re into a dusty little place largely subsisting on Americans and Canadians looking for inexpensive dental care and duty free liquor.

The shot below gives an idea of what's on sale.


Bar the Pope, rather like another border town, Niagara Falls.

Here’s one last look at the border. There’s Mexico on the far side.

This is a quiet little place called Los Ebanos and, unless you swim, crossing means taking what may be the last hand-drawn ferry in the United States.

Not what I had expected on such unsettled and often violent frontier.