Heroics.

Feb. 13, McAllen, Texas.

The daily heroics of circus life are often played out in the dead of night.
The idyllic country-feeling field we were in when we arrived in Harlingen having been turned into a giant sponge by last Saturday's deluge, and two days of somewhat drier weather having done little to restore normalcy, leaving the lot proved to be an epic battle, fought with semi tractor-trailers and two-inch chains.
I was dozing off on the sofa after putting Dylan to sleep sometime after the show ended last night, waiting for Fridman to come back and hitch the trailer, when the persistent, whiny roar of a truck engine revving up in vain woke me up and got me outside. Gustavo's truck was stuck in the mud. Another truck pulled up, Jose the mechanic at the wheel, a simple metal chain was hooked up between them, one try, two, the third one did it, the clowns cheered.
One after another each of the circus trucks got stuck, and the struggle went on all night. To make things worse, the weight of the trucks broke a water pipe, causing more flooding, if that could be possible. The last truck made it out of the lot around five in the morning, the field a lake of a mess, the drivers exhausted.
Meanwhile we drove onto the lot in McAllen and discovered another dirt field, ripe for mud contests should one drop of rain fall onto it.