It's been over a month now since I returned from Big Bend, so I guess the tale has steeped long enough...
Following last year's amazing trip to Big Bend, the same four guys - Mark, Harris, Johnny and I - decided that we wanted to go on another camping trip, at a location to be determined later. We had talked about going out to the Guadalupe Mountains to hike Guadalupe Peak, the highest mountain in Texas (at 8,717 feet). But for some reason, none of us could really get all that excited about it as much as we tried. So at a lunch meeting in July, three of us (Johnny lives in another town) started talking about where we should go this year. The choices also included Big Bend Ranch State Park and the Davis Mountains. Big Bend wasn't really even on the radar. But going back to Big Bend came up, and the more we talked about it the more we realized that we were getting excited about the idea of going back. There was a LOT of stuff that we wanted to do last year but couldn't. There were entire areas of the park that we hadn't even driven to, much less hiked. So, we decided to head back to Big Bend. And best of all, we were able to reserve the exact same cabin we stayed in last year. Bonus!
We would be going on the exact same weekend as the year before, also, because of Mark's travel schedule. Most people would consider heading out into the desert to hike and camp in August a foolhardy prospect, but we knew that up in the Chisos Mountains, where we would be staying, that it would still be relatively cool. On the desert floor, however, it was above 100 degrees every day. But as it turned out, we were in the midst of one of the longest, hottest summers on record, so 100-plus degree heat didn't really scare us much. After all, the temperatures hovered around 104 degrees in Brenham for more than a month straight (and as it would turn out, it was actually a few degrees cooler in the desert than in Brenham, which hit 110 degrees that weekend - but I'm getting ahead of myself).
Our plan was to try to make this year's trip as different from last year's as possible. So instead of going on one big long overnight hike, we decided to go on several shorter (and theoretically easier) day hikes. Johnny requested a trip to the nearby town of Terlingua, so that was certainly on the agenda. Mark mentioned hiking the Lost Mine Trail and I wanted to hike into Santa Elena canyon (we couldn't last year because the river was up and we would've had to swim across to get to it). I also requested a hike to Grapevine Hills to see a rock formation called "the balanced rock." Johnny mentioned Pine Canyon, Ernst Tenaja (and going for a run on a mountain trail). The tenaja (more on that later) sounded great, but none of the rest of us a.) are in as good a shape as Johnny is b.) like to do things that make us want to vomit and die and c.) are complete badasses who would ever consider running in the freaking mountains. There's a reason there's a legend surrounding Johnny Johnson. Chuck Norris has nothing on this guy.
So our agenda would be:
Day 1: Travel and hike to "the window" for sunset
Day 2: Lost Mine Trail, Pine Canyon Trail, Ernst Tenaja
Day 3: Casa Grande (hiking up the back side), Santa Elena Canyon, Terlingua
Day 4: Travel back
The proposed agenda was grouped by location in the park, more or less. The best layed plans, as they say. Things would change a little. But I'll get to that soon.
So the agenda was set. A trip to REI and Academy, several posts on Facebook and a month later and we were ready to go. Or so we thought...
I was the first up the next morning. It was bothering me that the other guys kept having to wait on me, so I wanted to be ready to go. I showered and got dressed before anyone else got up. The other guys groggily came around and we began packing up to leave. The office opened at 7:00 and we wanted to be there when they opened so that we could go ahead and get on the road. None of us were really hungry, so we decided to wait until Fort Stockton to have breakfast. The sky behind Casa Grande - formerly El Capitan - was beginning to glow where the sun would rise over the ridge, so I got out my camera.
We checked out of the cabin and complained about whichever liar had determined the mileage up on the trails. What they claimed was 3.3 miles felt a lot more like 20 or 25 miles. And we got on the road. Johnny wanted to try to get some wildlife shots on the way out, and was hoping that we would see some javalina or a bear. We saw some javalina, but I didn't stop the truck in time and messed up his shot. I told the guys that if I saw Creepy Guy walking on the road that I was just going to run him over. As we were headed down the mountain, Johnny suddenly spotted something big and black to the left near the top of one of the hills. It was a bear. We slammed on the brakes and all jumped out of the truck to take a look. It was about 300 yards away, headed up the hill. All of us had our cameras out and were snapping away. Then some rude lady in a white Honda came up behind us and yelled at us and barked at us to please move, even though the truck was about 80 percent off the road already. Stupid crabby lady. I hoped that back up at her campsite that a mountain lion was eating her dog.
As we reached the Panther Junction park headquarters, all of our phones sprang to life and began dinging and pinging with missed texts and messages. The signal wasn't very strong, but it allowed us some contact with our loved ones for the first time in a few days. It was odd because we hadn't gotten any kind of signal when we passed by just a couple of days before.
We left the park quietly, begrudgingly. Outside the park, the speed limit increased, so we went faster. There were birds everywhere. We saw quail all over. Ahead of us, there were some on the road that began running off the road as we approached. Suddenly, one darted back onto the road and tried to fly just as we reached it. It slammed into the passenger's side window with a loud thud, waking the snoozing Harris and Mark with a start. The window had already been cracked, but now there was a big, new crack where the bird had hit. I think that if he had hit just a couple of inches to the left where the other crack was, that it might have shattered the window and Johnny would have had a quail in his lap.
The drive back to Fort Stockton seemed extraordinarily long. Maybe it was because we were hungry. Maybe it was because I was worried about every bird I saw flying into my truck. I don't know. But it seemed to take forever. We stopped at IHOP and everyone had a really big breakfast. The wind was really blowing and we were fighting a nasty headwind on the most of the way back, which didn't do great things for our gas mileage. Lunch was Mexican food in Fredericksburg. Had we had one more day, I bet we would have gone and hiked Enchanted Rock while we were there. But that sounds like it'll be a good trip for next time.
We pulled into Brenham around 6:30 and unloaded the truck at Mark's house. We shook hands and said goodbye and all went our separate ways. Harris almost took out one of Mark's trees with his truck as he was backing out. And normal life resumed.
It was great to see Kristi and the kids again. I felt as if I had been gone for a couple of weeks instead of just four days. I came back and there was a notable improvement in Noble's speech and he was using some new words. Right now, he's changing hour by hour. I swear Kayci, in addition to losing the tooth, had grown two inches. I came back home to the life that I love and to the people that I love. All the next week, I slept very, very well as my body tried to recover.
So now it's time to finish putting away the camping gear. Kristi and the kids have been very patient about it. And it's time to start planning ideas for the next trip. It took me 15 years to get back to Big Bend after last time. I don't want it to take that long again. In fact, camping and being outdoors is something that I love - it's so much a part of who I am. Back in high school and college I went camping all the time, sometimes three times a month. And I want my kids to grow up with the great memories of camping and the outdoors that I have. So my pledge to myself is that we're going to build that into our lives. It may only be a camping trip a couple of times a year with the family - and hopefully a couple more every year with the guys - but it will be something. Being outdoors in God's creation recharges my batteries and re-centers me in a way that nothing else can. It's part of what makes me... me. And I like when I feel like me.
Thanks for reading my long, rambling account of the trip. I know it's been long, and there have been a few inside jokes. It'll be back to geeky things, Apple and politics before too long here at Destructoville. But I think I'm going to take a little break and just relax for a little bit. But before long, it'll be back to regularly scheduled ranting. Take care.
I awoke at 3:00 AM and thought it was morning and that the sun had come up. The moon had risen and all the stars had come out, and it was blindingly bright. I had trouble going back to sleep, so after an hour or so I pulled out my iPhone and watched the last half of Anchorman. Toward the very end of the movie, I drifted off to sleep until my alarm woke me at 6:30. I had set it so that I could make sure and catch the sunrise. Our cliff faced southeast (which I guess is why they ended up deciding to call it the Southeast Rim).
Johnny was awake and thinking the same thing I was. He had his camera in hand. As I walked out toward the rim, everything was in silhouette. The pink and purple sky glowed behind the crisp black outlines of the pine trees. The I saw something move. It startled me for a moment. It was big, and it was moving quietly out toward the cliff. My first thought was that it was a bear. Ironically, just then, my stomach growled, and I stopped in my tracks, waiting for the next sound. The Thing moved slowly, quietly, deliberately. Soon I could see that it was walking like a man up on its hind legs. I stepped closer and got my camera ready...
Harris was standing out next to the cliff watching the sky glow brighter and brighter. He had beaten all of us. As it turned out, none of us had slept all that well that night. The other guys were talking about thunder that they heard off in the distance and hoped that it wouldn't rain. They talked about something they heard scratching around through our campsite. I had heard no such things, but when I did sleep, thankfully I slept soundly. Mark soon joined the three of us out at the cliff edge and we watched as the sun slowly, then more and more quickly, rose through the mist. Johnny and I clicked away with our cameras.
We had each brought our own breakfasts. Mine consisted of cereal bars, apricots and nuts. I think Mark and Harris ate dried oatmeal. Johnny fashioned a hanglider out of the skins of the deer we had seen the night before, swooped down to a nearby Mexican village for a full Migas and burrito breakfast and then scaled the 200-foot cliff back up to our camp site. Or maybe he ate nuts, too. I don't exactly recall.
As we broke down our camp, one of the deer from the night before - a buck with velvety antlers - was very interested in what we were doing. Just as the night before, he wasn't shy at all and came within just a few feet of us. Johnny and I got some great close-up shots as he grazed on grasses nearby and just kinda hung around.
We got on the trail about 9:00 and quietly made good time. Our legs took a little time getting loosened up. It was already getting warm. The night hadn't been anywhere near the 48 degrees the forecast had called for. The good news was that our hike was supposed to be considerably easier than it had been the day before. The bad news was that all of us were running low on water. The warm weather and strenuous hike had taken up more water than we had planned for. I left the cabin with six liters and was down to just one to last all day. The other guys were in a similar predicament, so we had agreed to take it slowly and take more frequent breaks if we needed it so as to conserve water.
We walked along the rim and were treated to several more great, sweeping overlooks. On the Southwest Rim, we got a great look of "The Saddle" and "Mule Ears," both rock formations named for the way they look. Santa Elena Canyon was also faintly visible through the haze. Our hike was fairly level until about halfway down the Northwest Rim trail, when it began to a gentle slope downward that would continue for most of the day.
At the Laguna Meadows trailhead, we stopped for a rest. It was getting pretty hot at this point as we descended from the rim's altitude of 6500 feet (give or take six inches). I took off my shirt and hung it from a tree limb to cool off a little bit. Then we heard someone shuffling up the trail from the way we were headed. I finished putting my shirt back on just as we got a look at the hiker's face. Guess who it was. Wrong. It was Creepy Guy. Running into this guy three times in three days in three completely different areas of the park was just more than I could take. We all said hi to Creepy Guy, who asked if we had seen any wildlife. He obviously wanted to tell us about something he had seen, so we bit and asked him what kind of animals he had seen. Creepy Guy went into great detail about all the stupid bugs and birds he had seen on the trail, including a couple that I really, really wanted to call BS on (but didn't). By this time, his company was becoming pretty stale, so we asked him where he was headed. "Wherever my feet take me" was his reply. I damn near came unglued. But luckily I think he sensed that we were about to perform a ritual killing right then and there on his creepy arse and turned to be on his way. Once he was out of immediate earshot, we couldn't hold it in and ragged on the Creepy Guy for his attitude. I said that there was only room for one smartass on this mountain, to which Harris replied, "yeah, and there's already four." We had a good laugh and got moving again.
The rest of the hike was more long than tough. The Laguna Meadow trail is 3.3 miles of mostly measured, downhill trail. It would have been much easier to have come up this way (note for future reference). We had elected to keep walking and to have lunch back at the cabin. There was great celebration when we rounded a hill and finally saw the Basin Lodge in the valley below. More celebration followed when later we realized that we were finally below the elevation of "Disney hill." We stopped one last time with about a mile to go and finished off what little water we had left.
We finally dragged into the cabin area about two 'o-clock. We each drank as much water as we could and sat down to rest. Sandwiches followed, which were just ridiculously good.
It was early in the day, and rather than take naps, we wanted to do something else. Mark suggested taking the scenic drive down to the river to see the Santa Elena Canyon,. I especially liked that suggestion since it would mean an hour of sitting in the air conditioned truck. So we grabbed our hiking boots, got some more water for the hike into the canyon and took off.
Along the way, we drove along the desert floor and stopped several times to view some of the sites, such as an abandoned ranch house and to see the Mule Ears:
As we drove toward the Santa Elena Canyon and the Rio Grande, there were huge sheer cliffs rising in front of us. The closer we got, the more massive and imposing they became, like a giant gate put there to keep anything from passing. We pulled up to the Santa Elena Canyon trail area, which was completely empty. This was the only part of the trip when I had been really, genuinely nervous. There were thick bamboo-like plants all around the trail headed down to the river. It would have been an ideal place for someone wanting to stage an ambush to hide. It would also be a great place for illegals to hide. But luckily, the walk down to the river was only about 50 yards. The river was up, so we couldn't easily walk over to the canyon trail to go into the canyon without getting either really wet or really muddy. So we elected not to go across. In front of us were the giant cliffs we had seen from the road separated by the Rio Grande. On the right side was the United States. On the the left side was Mexico. There was an uneasiness in the air, and we didn't stay long.
On the way back, we took a dirt road called Old Maverick Road. It started out in fairly good shape, but got more and more rough as we went. After a couple of miles, we saw a Border Patrol truck coming toward us slowly, searching for illegals. It was a relief to see him. He waved as we drove by slowly and we proceeded on our way.
About halfway down the road, we stopped at a little shelter called "Luna's Jacal." It was here in this little house that a man named Gilberto Luna lived to be 108 years and raised 14 kids. The roof of the jacal (pronounced hah-KAHL) only came up to my chest, which means that to be inside, one would have to stoop or crawl. I guess they only slept inside. I couldn't even imagine the kind of tough, rugged existence these people must have had.
As we reached the road that traveled back up into the Chisos Mountains, we stopped. Johnny had seen a snake on the side of the road and wanted to photograph it. I never saw it, but he said it was a coachwhip. Turning around to head back to the truck, I couldn't believe my eyes. The scenery seemed so unreal. The misty mountains rose in the distance from the desert floor, which was covered in all kinds of plants. It was amazing.
A little further up the road in the mountains, we stopped again when we saw a huge tarantula crossing the road. I had recently read an article in Texas Highways magazine about them, so even though he was creepy I realized he wasn't dangerous. So Johnny and I shot some photos of the spider as Mark and Harris watched out for traffic.
We pulled back up to the cabin hungry. We had brought barbecued chicken, beans and plenty of potato salad for dinner. There were four chairs on the front porch of our cabin, so we sat outside and ate. A Mexican Jay (think really big blue jay) was harassing us, so he almost got hit by my flying plate. We had a big laugh about that. Then we watched a roadrunner scurry around the cabins, imagining that his friend the Mexican Jay had sent him on a search and destroy mission. Luckily, he was spared from the business end of my plate.
The sun was beginning to set and shone pink and orange on Casa Grande - formerly known as El Capitan. We opened some beer and sat outside talking, laughing and having a good time. Mark brought some kind of blue rum drink called Zombie. It tasted really good and we went through it quickly. Then the spiced rum came out. We sat there for almost six hours just laughing and talking. We had no place to be and no schedule other than to get up in the morning and head home. It was a great time.
After the Zombie came out, all my photos started looking like this:
Actually, I was trying to get a shot of the stars using a long shutter, but I never really achieved it. After a long day, we were in a great mood and finally stumbled in to sleep. We all slept pretty well that night.
The next morning we got up and cooked breakfast tacos. We prepared for our hike, not really sure what to expect. It had never rained that night, and it was now a beautiful, sunny morning. The temperature was somewhere in the mid-60s, and it was just gorgeous. We got on the trail around 10:00, and it was starting to warm up as the sun rose over the tops of the Chisos Mountains and shone down into the Basin.
Almost immediately, the trail was difficult. I'm not sure whether it was because of the elevation (the Basin sits at about 5400 feet) or because I'm out of shape, but I was sucking wind right off the bat. The trail was uphill most of the way, which meant frequent stops for water and rest. Luckily, the trail was well maintained and was even stair-stepped in many places, which didn't make it any easier, but did make it more level for getting a good footing.
I was amazed at how un-desert-like the hike was. There were pine and other trees all along the trail that gave plenty of shade. Flowers were everywhere and there was green grass all around. There was a lot of wildlife, too. We saw a lot of smaller animals such as squirrels, birds, lizards and even a rabbit. Then we came upon an open meadow that was simply stunning. I would have stopped and settled there had I been a pioneer headed west.
The variety of plants along the way up the mountain were intriguing. There was an interesting mix of desert plants and mountain plants with deciduous plants (such as some amazing-looking maple trees) mixed in for good measure. I bet it's stunning in the fall. One day I'd love to go back and see. All along the path were "century plants," which is a form of agave (but unfortunately not the making-tequila-out-of kind). Many were in bloom or getting ready to bloom.
While we were walking, we were still generally talking and joking around. In fact, Johnny made a comment that had all of us laughing for minutes, literally. Something about standing outside the cabin in the dark in a cat suit... My sides were hurting, I was laughing so hard. Spirits were high, and we were having a great time.
As we walked up the mountain, suddenly the Basin hotel and cabins came into view through a break in the trees. We could see the huge water tank that we passed as we set out. And we were well above the huge "Disney hill". It was quite satisfying to see how high we had climbed. Unfortunately, we had no idea how much we had left to do. We were probably only halfway to the Emory Peak trailhead, where we would break for lunch.
We broke for lunch at the Emory Peak trailhead. I had dried sausage and some mixed nuts. Mark had brought some sausage and cheese. Harris shared my sausage and ate some kind of bar, I think. Johnny, on the other hand, (I'm pretty sure) took off into the woods, hunted and killed an antelope and ate the whole thing raw. That's my recollection, at least.
As we were eating, we heard someone coming up the trail behind us. Imagine our surprise when around the corner of some trees came Creepy Guy - the guy we had met in the car the night before. Unfortunately, he was just as creepy in the daytime as at night, and he was traveling alone (as all serial killers do). He stopped, awkwardly, to talk for a minute and then headed up the Emory Peak trail. We waited a few minutes, stashed our packs in the bear boxes available and then followed him up to Emory Peak. Cue the scary music.
Along the way, we walked next to "Boot Canyon," so-named because of a rock formation on the south side that looks like an upside-down boot.
The walk up to Emory Peak was actually very nice and was very well maintained. There were some rough patches, however, where the rock was uneven and loose. It was on one of those places about two-thirds of the way up to the peak that Harris turned an ankle. He decided that he wasn't going to continue to the top, so Mark elected to stay with him and start heading back down toward the trailhead. Johnny and I continued up the trail to the peak. We were about 50 yards from the end of the trail when Creepy Guy came out of nowhere back down the mountain. He said he hadn't made it to the top because he didn't have the proper rock climbing skills, but that he had eaten a nice lunch - of liver, fava beans and chianti, I suspect - near the top. He continued on his way and we continued on ours, hoping that his evil plan wasn't working and that Harris's ankle injury wasn't the opportunity he was looking for to divide the group and slaughter us all.
Johnny and I soon found out what Creepy Guy meant. To get to the top of Emory Peak, one has to do a bit of rock climbing. It was a 15 or 20 yard climb up to the top up some fairly easy rocks. As we got toward the top, we noticed lots and lots of ladybugs. They were everywhere! It was kind of surreal, actually. Here's a shot of two of them, um, playing...
Standing at the top of Emory Peak, the third highest peak in Texas at 7,825 feet, is amazing. The top consists of large boulder-like rocks that form a base about fifteen feet square. On top, there are communications towers and a solar array, which seemed to be fairly new. Our Recovery Dollars at work, I suppose. At this point, everything in the park seemed to be below us. A mountain a couple of miles away seemed to be roughly the same size, but it was most probably an optical illusion. On all sides were sheer cliffs, and on three sides the cliff dropped for hundreds of feet to the hills below. Even though the day had gotten quite warm, the temperature at the top seemed like it was in the lower 70s and a breeze made it feel very, very comfortable. Johnny and I got right to taking pictures. We spent about twenty minutes in all at the top of Emory Peak before noticing the time - it was almost four 'o-clock. So we climbed back down the way we came and booked it back down the mountain to meet up with Harris and Mark at the trailhead. We didn't know if, when we got there, we would be able to continue on our hike to the rim or if we would have to carry Harris down the mountain.
When we got back down to the trailhead, we found this:
Harris was sitting in the bear box. He and Mark had gotten back about thirty minutes before us, which had given Harris time to get a lot of ibuprofen in him. His ankle was starting to feel a lot better, so we took a quick rest and hit the trail. We had a lot of ground to cover before we reached our campsite. We were less than halfway there, actually, but the good news was that we wouldn't - or shouldn't- have nearly the kind of climbs that we had experienced that morning.
We followed a very well maintained trail that was simply amazingly beautiful in places. The Boot Canyon trail wove through and around the canyons and hills and along creek beds. For most of the trail, the canopy of trees kept us well-shaded by huge cedars and maple trees. This was my favorite piece of the trail, by far. It was almost park-like in places. Just as we reached the turnoff for the Northwest Rim trail, we encountered the only other people we would see along the trail. Four guys, probably in their twenties, were hiking the other way. In a way, it was really odd to be surprised to see other people out in the wilderness. I'm not sure why, but after being basically alone all day, seeing other hikers was somewhat unwelcome.
The Northwest Trail headed up again, gradually rising as it wound around the hills. We were all getting pretty tired by now (except for Johnny, who probably could have sprinted the rest of the way without breaking a sweat.) We finally reached the top of the hill and the trail maintained a fairly level course for awhile.
The sun was getting low in the sky and the light was absolutely beautiful, shimmering through the grass on either side of the trail. We reached the first of the Northwest Rim campsites and knew that we were finally getting close. We stopped for a small water break, then continued on. Spirits were at once much higher. Suddenly, we rounded a bend and found ourselves at the bottom of a little hill. The trail extended upward in a gentle incline. As we reached the top of the little hill, a huge panorama unfolded in front of us. It was the Northwest Rim. There in front of us was a line of trees and brush along a cliff, beyond which lay a mountain ridge in the distance. The sun was shining sideways and orange on the mountain in front of us. It was amazing.
We stopped for a moment to take in the vista and continued on toward the Southeast Rim, where we would be camping. All along the way, the trail followed the rim of a huge cliff that looked out onto the Chihuahuan desert below, and as we walked, the large mountains fell at first to our left and then behind us. After a short hike, we finally reached SE-3, our campsite for the night. We had chosen this campsite because it was the only one that could accommodate more than two tents. So we got lucky in that it turned out to be the best campsite on the Southeast Rim.
Facing the campsite trail was a cliff that dropped almost straight down for about 2,000 feet. It was absolutely humbling being up there on that cliff. Below, in front of us we could see a hilly desert floor and clouds. The clouds were actually below us! The photos don't do it justice, but the huge scale was incredible. It was almost 6:30 in the evening, and the shadows were starting to at the top of the mountain where we were, but not yet on the hills below. The light was a yellowish orange and a light haze hung in the air below over the desert. This was the reason we came, and it was totally worth it.
We set up our tents quietly and got our things ready for the night. Mark cooked a dinner of rice, canned chicken, peas and corn, and we ate it up gratefully. As we ate, some curious deer - that weren't shy at all - came within a few yards of our campsite to see what was going on. The sun set as we sat and ate. I was tired and not in a very sociable mood, so after dinner I went to my tent. It was actually pretty warm, and it took me awhile to go to sleep. Soon, the sound of the other guys moving around slowed, then stopped, and I drifted off to sleep. It was pitch black up on the Southeast Rim and even darker inside my tent. If a bear was going to come to eat me during the night, he'd have needed a flashlight or some night vision goggles.
Destructoville is my own little space where I can rant about everything - and nothing - until my heart is content. In my own little world I can post to geeky things like typography and new logos and Apple gear. Its about philosophy and conservative politics and science and photography and soft drinks and cycling and lots of stuff.
Following last year's amazing trip to Big Bend, the same four guys - Mark, Harris, Johnny and I - decided that we wanted to go on another camping trip, at a location to be determined later. We had talked about going out to the Guadalupe Mountains to hike Guadalupe Peak, the highest mountain in Texas (at 8,717 feet). But for some reason, none of us could really get all that excited about it as much as we tried. So at a lunch meeting in July, three of us (Johnny lives in another town) started talking about where we should go this year. The choices also included Big Bend Ranch State Park and the Davis Mountains. Big Bend wasn't really even on the radar. But going back to Big Bend came up, and the more we talked about it the more we realized that we were getting excited about the idea of going back. There was a LOT of stuff that we wanted to do last year but couldn't. There were entire areas of the park that we hadn't even driven to, much less hiked. So, we decided to head back to Big Bend. And best of all, we were able to reserve the exact same cabin we stayed in last year. Bonus!
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