East of the Pecos

A west-bound truck crosses the U.S. 90 bridge spanning the Pecos River.

A west-bound truck crosses the U.S. 90 bridge spanning the Pecos River.

Dec. 8 – We stopped on the east side of the bridge across the Pecos, where Roy Bean held no sway, and drove to the little park area overlooking the spot where the Pecos empties into the Rio Grande. Then we drove downhill toward the boat launch and got out to commune with the Pecos River and the towering cliffs across the way.
It was enchanting. The area is well-endowed, archeologically speaking. Cliff dwellings in the Lower Pecos canyon are adorned with Native American rock art.
We let Lester out for a little exercise, and then we got back in the behemoth and continued on to Del Rio.
What else do you want me to say? I’m at a loss for words at the moment in any case. I think this might be part of the Amistad National Recreation Area, but I’m not entirely sure. It’s late, and I just spent 1,500 words on a boxing match from 1896. This sad little post is just an excuse to run the photo of the bridge across the Pecos River. It’s also a bridge, pun avoidable but not avoided, to Del Rio.
Sorry for wasting your time.
Oh, and here’s another photo of the family:

pecos

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