green, green...or abort, abort.

once again we have returned from big bend national park. i would not consider this place as an obsession; but, what began innocently enough 5 years ago has turned into an at-least-once-a-year necessity.

last december (while in the park) i started the planning for december 2009. i wanted to hike some little travelled trails and visit some areas of the western and southern park that i had never seen. once arriving home, i immediately downloaded topos and started memorizing google earth. this lasted for a full year.

finally on the 28th of december we arrived at panther junction. dad, j, bishop currit and i met neil- who had driven to big bend by himself. we again spent way too much time explaining and justifying our plans to a kid (disguised as a ranger) who seemed to have known a little less about this area of the park than we did. not impressive. why does this need to happen every single time? if i describe areas of the park to you with which you are not even familiar, this doesn't necessarily qualify me as an expert hiker; but , hows about you give me a little credit and benefit of the doubt. whatever. eventually he gave us some papers and we hit the road.

after dropping a car at the mule ears overlook, we finally get to the trail. the sun was getting low in the sky and we figured we had little over an hour to make some progress. my pack was HEAVY. water was going to be an unknown factor on this hike and i assume we all overloaded on the cautious side. i definitely overdid it.



we found a good place to set our camp for the night. beyond my objections, charlotte had made me bring a tent. i ended up carrying a 4 man tent that weighed way too much for a backpacking trip. don't tell her, but it came in pretty handy as all but nate ended up in the tent for the first night. around 11, a storm blew in from over the chisos and brought near-freezing rain with it. that little tent was strained to its limits as the wind blew it back and forth through the night. the rain never became too strong, but it was persistent. as with all old tents, touching the walls that were wet on the exterior broke the water resistance and allowed seeping. the wind blew the tent into us from every direction creating possibilities for maximum seep. just what i needed in 34 degree weather. we all got pretty wet.

by the time the sun came up we had decided that wet and cold and 22 miles of hiking did not make a wise triumvirate. the weather was meant to get a little colder over the next couple of days and the forecast called for the rain to continue throughout the rest of the day and into the night. we felt that the possibility of real danger was too actual and we hiked back out to find a different plan.

i was definitely disappointed but i knew it to be the right decision. the desert is not going anywhere. well, technically it is, but not fast enough to prevent me from returning to do what i had planned.

we ended up driving up to the basin for a good meal in the restaurant. we also planned on finding a dryer to improve the condition of some of our equipment that was wet. we had luck with the restaurant but not the dryer. the one dryer in the basin was being used, so we drove down to rio grande village with hopes of better luck. we found it.

we spent about an hour drying our things and eating ice cream bars before we decided we were ready to find some adventure. we headed out the river road west on our way to the mariscal mine. the road was a lot less rough than i had expected, having never been on it. it is always amazing to me how rugged the landscape of the bend can be and how remote and isolated one can feel when creeping across the wideness of the desert wasteland. i was intrigued to look across the desert into the little village of santa elena sparkling in the sunlight shining on mexico. out in the middle of absolutely nothing - what in the world do the people do there to survive? now that we are no longer legally allowed to cross back and forth over park boundaries, i wonder where their money is found.






after a very long desert drive, we could just make out the mine on a hillside in the distance. how out of place does it look? multi-storied and many-roomed, the mine erupts out of absolute emptiness to stand watch over nothing at all. we crawled over its remains and peered into the depths of its bowels wondering what life might have held for those living in the crumbled ruins surrounding the area. rough indeed. the views of elephant tusk and the southern quemada were delightful.





we slowly made our way back to the main road and found our way onto the old ore road and our night's destination of candellia. out in the middle of more, but different nothing, candellia made for a pretty good rest stop. i had given up on the tent and the sky looked clear enough, so we placed our bags out on a tarp on the ground. after watching the stars for a good long time, and just before falling asleep; i decided to place my large tarp nearby just in case a sprinkle of rain reappeared in the night. thank goodness. no sooner did i fall asleep than i was awakened by a too-familiar feeling of rain falling lightly on my face. i covered us pretty well, and woke numerous times in the night to reposition the plastic; but we still woke up very wet. i can only assume that the imperviousness of the plastic coupled with the great temperature disparity above and under the tarp caused condensation in the first degree. i wasn't pleased since we were wet again. oh well.

breakfast, tooth paste and a fresh coat of deo brought me around and we packed up on our way to ernst tinaja. again, a new site for me that i have coveted for some time. it did not disappoint. the geological formations are crazy and the canyon was fun to hike. i don't remember anyone mentioning pictographs in the area, so i'm not sure if what we found was legitimate or not; but, we had fun looking anyway. we hiked up a good ways past the tinaja itself and saw some seeping pour-offs that satisfied. what a beautiful place.







the hot springs was a great lunch spot. we laid out all of our wet gear on top of the car while we ate our lunch up at the ruins above the parking lot. this relaxing lunch followed a trip to the bath house itself. it was great to sit in the shade for a bit even though, due to our filth, we surely reminded one of fagan's light-handed pick-pockets. as always, the bath house was inviting at first but soon filled with too many people to allow me to remain. my whole purpose in visiting big bend is to avoid contact with other people, so how can i be expected to sit in hot water two feet from 20 others? instead, we followed the trail up to the langford's homestead. again, i had never been up there. the view was awesome as it overlooked the river from a bluff directly over the springs.


we made our way down the ross maxwell scenic drive headed to castolon. neil, j, and i walked into the store to gain directions to the cemetery somewhere behind the store. i had heard tale of it, so i knew it existed. i just wasn't sure exactly where to find the trail. our conversation went something like this:

me - "we are gonna hike out to the cemetery. does the trail begin behind the left or right side of the store?"

bureaucratic bullcrapper - "cemetery?!" with a look on his face as if i had asked him to identify db cooper.

me - "yeah. the one behind the store. i just don't remember where the trail begins and i thought you could help us save the time of looking for it."

bureaucratic liar - after a good long pause including scratching of beard "oh yeah, that cemetery. i went there once but i don't think there is a trail out to it. it's been a long time."

me - "ok. well we'll just go find it on our own. thanks anyway."

of course we found the trail on the left side of the barn and followed it a half mile or so through a wash and up onto a plain north of the store. i was surprised to count around 70 grave sites and alarmed to see how many of them were clearly built for children or adolescents. in its lonely and decrepit way, it became one of my favorite places in the park.


we arrived at the terlingua abajo campsites just a little before dusk. i raised my tent with the intent of allowing it to dry in the night. the sky was cloudless and i intended to spend my last night unencumbered by any view obstruction. again, a tarp on the ground would make a fine pallet and j and i arranged our bags and pillows. we all sat together and chatted while we cooked our dinner. some kind of tiny desert rat with a very long tail has gotten very used to human visitors and their propensity for dropping food scraps on the ground. he displayed very little fear as he ran in and out of our circle sniffing and searching. of course jackson was highly alarmed and more than worried about the mouse eating his face while we were sleeping. i used all my powers and all my skills to assure him that the mouse wanted food, not flesh.

i awoke a few times in the night because the moon was full and as bright as it could be. that night was the coldest night of the trip and we awoke to frost on our things. apparently there was more than enough humidity in the air to produce a lot of dew. again we were wet. i felt like a total greenhorn and repeatedly referred to myself as such.

jackson woke at 7 and told me he needed to poop. i told him i would get the trowel for him and dig him a hole and he let me know that he didn't like my idea. 'can't you just drive me to castolon and use the bathroom there?' rather than mess with a hassle in the freezing morning air, i secured dad's keys and we headed out for santa elena. i knew it to be closer than castolon and i knew that no one would be there. the drive was nice as the sun was rising and shining off the cliffs of the canyon wall.

we arrived at the bathroom and jackson took care of his business. in point of fact, these restrooms were extremely clean. we quickly made our way back to the turn off to old maverick road. it is not very far to this junction, so we were not driving long when we saw an animal crossing the road. it was a good bit off in the distance and in the shadows; because of its relatively small size, i quickly assumed it was a javelina. the problem was that it was a really big javelina. as i realized i was wrong in my deduction, the animal lifted his very long mountain lion tail off the ground and identified himself. surely he had heard us long before and now realized we were coming fast enough that he needed to reverse direction and retrace his path back across the road. we never were close enough to see him really well; and, as the sun was rising behind him, we really only got a silhouette. not much of a first mountain lion sighting, but technically it does count. bully for us.

arriving back at camp, we found it empty. i knew the rest of our party had crossed the creek to visit the ruins and cemetery of the former town of terlingua abajo. jackson and i followed their path and walked directly towards the glowing face of mesa de anguilla. the ruins of the old village are really cool to wander. little bits of civilization still remain. tin cans and implements are strewn about lying right next to bits of broken dishes. broken bottles catch the morning sun and point the way to fire rings and rock piles. some of the graves there are still maintained and decorated by some faithful descendant. it was my second time in the ruins and it did not fail to impress.

we had made plans to leave fairly early in the day in order to make it home before midnight. it was decided that a trip over the santa elena canyon trail would be a final parting shot that would leave a best lasting impression. following last year's major flooding, the trail to the canyon is very different. it is much more direct and easier access for many more people who may not have enjoyed scaling the mud wall on the previous route. we hiked to the point where the trail dead ends into a rock wall hundreds of feet tall and further passage becomes impossible. we were running late and quickly made our way back to the cars. a final glance back and a farewell were all that was left.

we drove out of the park on the slow, wash board path of the old maverick road. a 2 minute visit to luna's jacal ended all of our sight seeing for this trip and we slowly exited the park. i did notice that some of the ocotillo were still in bloom, and searched for red blooms the whole way to the park entrance. hearing of the ocotillo flower for many years, i had never seen them before.

though i enjoyed our adventure exceedingly, i still fell a lingering lack of satisfaction for having been unable to complete our planned hike. who knows what the near future holds? i hope to drag myself out there sometime this spring and dig that rascal up.