Never in my brief nomadic life have I experienced wind like I did at Hueco Tanks State Park. Relentless, constant, wearing, psychologically taxing wind, all day and throughout the night. I was in a gorgeous campsite, but there was no sense in trying to sit outside the rig. The first day, I took my Caesar salad out to dine “al fresco,” but my romaine lettuce was taking flight faster than I could eat it. Continue reading
Blowing Hueco…
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