The day of July 6, 2011 brought forth feelings of anticipation and enthusiasm among me and the rest of my family. The countdown till our vacation had finally hit zero and it was time to put our copious months of planning into action. Soon we were 755 miles away from our minute hometown of Florence, Texas.Our destination was Red River, New Mexico, a town enclosed by mountains and a place where we could escape the torturous, Texas heat.
According to my stopwatch it took us precisely 15 hours, 23 minutes, and 52 seconds until my brother shouted his acknowledgment of the Red River city limit sign. After that my only memory of that day consists of sluggishly dragging my feet along a concrete path and collapsing into an inviting bed. All the excitement that had encompassed me at the beginning of the trip had been drained out of my body. Vibrant with energy, the next morning I was ready to travel outside the comfort of my blanket and explore the unfamiliar sounds I could hear beckoning me outside my window. Venturing around the house, I was finally able to see what I once was too blinded by exhaustion to notice. Lush, green mountains circumvented me and the refreshing aroma drifting from the trees filled my nostrils. As I watched a family of ducks swimming against the gentle current of the river in my backyard a thought occurred to me. I realized that this was the first time I had seen a body of water and not felt the need to plunge into it in an effort to cool off. The weather in Red River was unlike the sticky, scorching heat of Texas. I was unfamiliar to the breezy, cool air within the mountains. This place appeared to be an alternative universe from the Lone Star State.
In order to become immersed in the stunning backdrop given to us by nature my family decided to spend the day fishing. We traveled to Eagles Nest, a small town with a vast body of water on the outskirts. Not long after fishing my sister and I figured out the hard way what happens when you do not have the luxury of a modern bathroom. Being isolated from the commotion of the city, the only bathroom around was a covered hole above a dark abyss. After the bathroom episode we agreed it would be best not to drink anymore liquids till we got back. Sadly that was the most memorable part of the day. The only fish captured that day looked as if they were intended to be bait in an effort to hook an actual fish. At the end of the day the breathtaking view made the day trip worth it. The next day I ventured into the small town and stumbled upon a spectacle that involved Indian dances performed by tribe members from Taos. They had special clothes that sounded out a rhythm as their bodies moved gracefully around the parking lot outside of a store called Frye‘s Old Town. Following that exquisite show they staged a phony shootout for the tourist. Being exceedingly tacky I could not endure it for long and left.
Woefully, I soon had to leave the serene ambiance of Red River and start the voyage home. Before this trip I had known no other life than the one in Texas. I was now curious of the life outside my birthplace. New Mexico has inspired me to become a traveler in order to see what life outside the Texas border is like.
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