What Are The Chances?

We drove from the Basin in the Chisos mountains to a stop sign in the Chihuahuan desert marking the intersection with the main road running from the Visitor's Center around the far side of the mountains to Santa Elena canyon in the Southwest corner of the park.

Big Bend is vast. And there isn't much traffic to speak of. Still, there was a stop sign there, so I stopped -- or rather I slowed to a roll.

I looked left. I saw nothing. Then I leaned forward to look right. The main road comes in at an acute angle at that intersection, so I had to lean way forward. I saw nothing. So I looked once more to the left and then began to turn.

Wait! Trudy shouted, putting her hands on the dash.

As she said this, a small blue SUV drove in front of me, coming out of nowhere, slowed almost to a stop by the shock of my rolling into their path. The driver looked at me wide-eyed and pulled over.

Big Bend is vast. There isn't much traffic to speak of. So what are the chances that if you roll into an intersection in the middle of the desert that you might almost hit a vehicle that was hidden behind the head of your dear spouse, approaching at exactly the speed with which you were moving your head back? And what are the chances that the vehicle in question would be full of people you know? And what on Earth are the chances that those people you know would be your next door neighbors vacationing on their spring break just as you were on yours?

Sheesh.

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