Big Bend National Park

2023-09-29

To Georgia and Back Series: Part 21

When they make a breakfast burrito in Texas, it is built to last. There is a good place to eat in this out of the way spot in an out of the way little town.  Back in the day, it was harsh, raw, unrelenting and so were the moral sensitives of the settlers. Today, it is harsh, raw, unrelenting, but very friendly. The young people that are running the store and its take-out are accommodating and enjoy themselves.

We get our gas and ice and sit on the front porch in the open air and shade. It has a peaceful small town feel, until nearby, a very old tourist crawls out of his car and accidentally blares his horn. A startled jump and things settle down again.

We head out on the winding two lane road, soon discovering that the distant ominous tall mountains, not far away, are where we’re going.

In the desert at the base of the mountain, there is a greeting station. We get our online reservations arranged and an orientation and then make our way up the long road in the mountains to the camping area and its facilities.

It is extensive and although off season, pretty full. We are given a choice by the park facilitator, who gives a very friendly meet and greet. She allows us to change to a better location and sees to it that we are settled.

She sets us down and states, “Okay, now I have to give you ‘The Bear Talk’.” There are bears, but they “generally” keep to themselves. They should not be a problem, but don’t bother them. There are “lions.” “Keep small children close.” Apparently, we need to keep an eye on other parents children. She has been at this and is good at what she does, but it has to be redundant repeating it several times a day.

She tells us of the hike, that she has done herself. It however wasn’t easy for her and apparently many others. It is only 3.6 miles round trip. She claims that the grade is pretty good. I have to wonder what is actually in store for us.

After setting up and snacking, we follow the asphalt road down to the trailhead. It will obviously be a generally downhill grade all of the way and uphill back.

It is as I have said, magnificent. There are massive entertaining rock faces rising steeply around our campsite and then, turquoise skies. This rugged terrain continues.

Unusual clouds can be seen getting whipped around in dramatic fashions.

There is a sense of our Huachuca Mountains and as we continue, we are reminded of other places in Arizona. This isn’t home, none the less.

Upon closer look, the flora is different. This is Chihuahuan Desert, which is a different vegetation than the Sonoran Desert. Odd variations of the same familiar green characters often flourish here, as well as what is new to us. Somethings just stand out, reminding us where we are. For example, there are trees with leaves that are similar to the shape of an Italian Cyprus,which are not an Arizonan species.

It is exceptional, beautiful and green. Flowers dot the way.

The shrubbery often encloses the trail and grants some shade.

Rich and lush, I look for the creek bed that must be here somewhere.

There appears to be a great bird’s shadow across a cliff face.

We quickly find it to be a shadow from the face itself.

There are other people. Sometimes, you just can’t hike naked. I do a little time with my kilt in hand. DF lifts her dress to get at some air and sun, but it is the wrong dress for dropping down from the neck.

People keep coming by and they are headed in the direction of the camp director and authority. We want no problems when we return. I lift the front of the kilt to tuck into my waistband. This is better, but only in between the coming walkers.

It is an old trail with stone walls here and there.

We come to a convenient shady sitting bench. An old guy, who is probably younger than us, sits on this one. He looks exhausted, ready to drop, if there were no bench, I’d think him in trouble and needing some help. He is too proud for help. He brags he went ¾ of the way. Eventually, we’ll realize there is no way that he had. I resolve to keep movin’.  DF’s mom is 101 and her advice is to “keep movin’”.

I see the dry creek’s bed ahead, next to a bushy tree. There is a rumble in the bushes, as we approach. It is a bear foraging on the other side of the bushes. It has been using the creek as an alternative route to the people trail. It is ripping apart the plants, breaking branches focused on its feasting.

I take a photo, as I walk by on the other side of the tree and the bushes. I don’t want the attention of the large dark being. I don’t stop to stare.

It is busy. Branches continue to be broken, as it grabs at berries. It is making a lot of noise and apparently doesn’t hear what is around it, or doesn’t care. Then suddenly, it stops for a moment, when it becomes aware of our passing. Just a moments pause, then back to business. Apparently, Yogi is used to people and hungry.

There is no problem. We continue. It doesn’t look like the black bear that we saw in the Huachucha Mountains, with big ears. This one is larger and mature.

I’m surprised to find extensive trail improvements. Through the creek as the canyon gets much thinner, rock steps climb up the granite surfaces. 

Well-constructed of concrete and stone, they are fun and handy.

We think that there may be just two couples more, but after they pass us heading back, we then see two more.

By the end, we pass probably 8 couples. A ¼ of the way from the end of the trail, we are sure that there will be no more interruptions. We know, because we ask. We are nude on the trail with no concerns, at last.

The end is all rock with straight tall walls, which blanket us with shade.

We welcome cool temperatures where the sun is blocked out. It’s like another world.

There is some water ponded. It has been wet.

There are a couple of places where it is steep and a bit of a climb.

It is similar to the slot canyon that we found in Big Bend State Park a couple of days before.

In the end, there is a window which frames the vast desert landscape in the distance and far below from where we stand.

There is light out there, but there is no going forward, only dangerous climbing.

We climb back up steep wooden logs running up a steep drop off.

It is a sort of ladder with no rungs.

The views are as wonderful in reverse.

We use a couple of benches on the way back. We sit to relax, imbibe and rest on the casual hike.

Hot orange crickets jump in front of me. They seem to believe that I’m after them. The chase is on for the cricket, as I make my way back up the trail. One jumps and then jumps time and again, as I catch up to it along the trail.

Approaching the camping area and trailhead, we cover up once again.

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