BREWSTER COUNTY — As drug cartels clash in border cities, rival traffickers are expanding to a remote frontier in Brewster County.
The county spans more than 6,000 square miles of rugged terrain. It's the largest county in Texas, and 192 miles of it borders Mexico.
Sheriff Ronny Dodson, whose family has lived in Brewster County for five generations, is trying to cope with a spike in crime.
"Pancho Villa had run my great-grandfather and them off," Dodson said. "They were trying to hide from him in all these places; everybody was. So they moved into the park."
He's talking about Big Bend National Park, now part of Sheriff Dodson's territory. We took a drive to see how this historic smuggling corridor is now the latest border hot spot.
The new breed of drug traffickers reopening the old trails are more brutal and better armed. Two rival cartels now operate there.
"I'm still of the hope that the only people they're killing is themselves," Dodson said. He hopes smugglers leave the ranchers and residents near the Rio Grande alone.
"The Border Patrol's watching this, and they're doing a good job of stopping it right here," the sheriff said. "But just right down the river they're doing it again. They're going across."
One old bridge leading to Mexico remains barricaded; it was shut down in the early 1990s. Now some locals want it reopened to promote tourism.
But Sheriff Dodson and others in law enforcement say that would only turn this remote part of Texas into a bigger and better staging ground for the smugglers who operate there.
Dodson relies on eight deputies to cover the vast county.
"I have a deputy who lives on a ranch right now, that if he called for help, it would be probably an hour-and-a-half to two hours to get to him," the sheriff said. "He's actually better than the last one I had on a ranch, because it would have been a three-hour drive to get to him."
This is a vast county with a small budget — and growing problems.
"As they increase security east and west, it's going to funnel it right through here," said Terlingua resident Blair Pittman. "But we're kind of gearing up for it — dreading it."
The signs are troubling.
"We're up about 100 percent on burglaries," Dodson said. "They're terrorizing us. They're stealing the guns. They're stealing jewelry."
The sheriff said he could use a half-dozen more deputies.
Deputy Martin Willey, 63, was set to retire in four days when we met him in the tiny town of Terlingua. "The sheriff''s 100 miles away in case you need back-up, but the locals out here will assist you in any way they can," Willey said.
This story might remind you of the movie "No Country for Old Men." But this sheriff says now more than ever he needs the old men.
"They've forgotten more than some of these young guys will know," Dodson said, "and those are the kind of guys we need back training. We need some of that old man still here."
That experience is critical as this isolated stretch of border braces for more trouble.
E-mail akocherga@belo.com
