roofless

(sorry about the erratic spacing, Blogger won't let me correct it) Hubby's work squeeze play is coming up in a week, so he finagled a couple of days so we could get out of Dodge before he disappears into the commissioning of his project. He won't be up for air for a couple of weeks.

We headed out to the iconic Rio Grande, with a two day guided paddle through the Santa Elena canyon ahead, with Big Bend River Tours. Given that it was going to average 32 C, the temperature seemed perfect for tenting - since heat is still a novelty to us Canadians.

Gear was a bit of a problem - Hubby's new Transitions glasses we'd delayed leaving town to pick up blew a nose piece after an hour on the road. The new glasses straps we'd bought so we didn't lose the new ones in the drink frayed almost immediately. And the hook on my swimsuit top snapped as I was getting dressed the first morning. Hubby managed to jury rig it together.

But whatever. We were exhilarated to be heading into elevation - the Chihuahuan desert has the Chisos mountains, which have the spectacular addition, along with the river, of - wait for it - trees! Hubby, we're not in Odessa anymore!

We met our guide and drove out through Big Bend National Park to our put in spot, right on the doorway of the canyon. Yucca was in bloom, the brush was leafing out, and the spectacular height of the 1500' canyon walls dwarfed us as we loaded the canoes.

The Rio Grande is such a storied river it was astonishing to see it more of a creek. Our trip, in fact, consisted of an easy 3 mile paddle upstream on flat, shallow water day one and an even easier paddle downstream the next day. Coming from the ferocious white water of the Rockies, this took a shift of expectation.

I was devastated by the beauty. The silence seeped into us and we spent whole hours without speaking, heads turned up towards the layered walls, the sudden caves, the light. Our guide found us a shady gravel ledge and set out a wide sandwich bar. I hadn't had Oreos for a decade but in this setting -ambrosia.

Slow paddling, interspersed with portages where we towed the canoe up brief, shallow riffles, sun, shade, birdsong - up the long nave of stone to the sandbar where we'd set up camp. Initially disappointed that I'd left our current books behind, Hubby took to the chairs our guide set up to 'canyon tv' and we spent the rest of the late afternoon watching the sun move up the walls, talking, sipping wine as we waited for supper to be ready. He forgot about the books immediately.

Can I tell you how much I was enjoying not having planned the food, prepped the food or having made the food?

We had bacon wrapped steaks cooked to order, baked potatoes with all the toppings, crisp salad with homemade dressing, spicy garlic toast...and chocolate cheesecake for dessert. Hubby loves cheesecake, but not chocolate, so I happily ate off the chocolate glaze while feeding him the vanilla cake.

Canyon tv had aerial divebombing by white throated swifts, followed even before sunset with fluttering bats in the lower, shadowed canyon. Next came the light show and we watched each star slip into the pale sky, eventually following satelites and shooting stars in our narrow strip of view.

My neck was defeated by all the craning, so by flashlight we went to our tent where we could continue the show all night, since the mesh window on the tent went from ankle height right over our heads to the other side. I woke in the night to a new noise, a scruffling close to the tent, and lay awake for a while, staring up at those brilliant stars, until I felt sure we would not be invaded.

Morning brought the scent of frying breakfast sausage. Coffee in hand, we watched the sun slide down the steep walls, eventually eating pancakes with berries and bananas, whip cream, sausage and orange juice. Did I mention we weren't even expected to wash dishes?

A leisurely pack up pace and then the downstream trip, with almost no towing, and when there was, Hubby let me stay in the canoe.

It was idyllic. Only the occasional sound of ripples. Rooms of light illuminating stands of grass and reed into brilliant colours. A few turtles. Hubby would kiss me when he came for the painter at the front of the canoe.

All too soon, the canyon gateway loomed and we were passing daytrippers, and then hikers. Their voices carried to us from half a mile and Eden faded away. After hauling gear at take out, our guide set up lunch, and we looked out over the river at the sheer cliffs we'd come through. Hubby hugged me. "Thank you baby. That was amazing."