1/31
Fort Davis, Texas
Oh why, oh why do I not remember? After about four hours into the drive from Sahuarita, I found my ass aching and my mood sinking in the general misery index. Still, we had miles and miles of Texas ahead of us. Kim, to lighten my mood, played Texas themed country and western music, and our little Prius hummed along the smooth and straight Texas interstate at 85 mph.
Finally, after nearly nine hours of captivity in our little red box on wheels, we rolled into Fort Davis, Texas, which is quite a unique little town. Even though it is tiny, and I really mean the word “tiny” in its fullest definition, it has a huge, very impressive court house and several other old buildings which seem out of place in an area with a population of about a 1000 people. Why did they build it? Why for so few? Are Texans overly optimistic?
We had dinner at the drug store, which looked like a cute little tourist cafe and was filled with touristy knick knacks, but had food that would make Jesus swear off the second coming. My meal was “chicken fried chicken,” which sounds idyllic, but in actuality would come in second place to card board with gravy.
We stayed at a very cool old lodge outside of town, the Indian Lodge, which was built by the CCC during the Great Depression, and is now a part of the Texas State Parks. It was constructed of adobe and exudes character. Our room was spacious and had the time period, western style furniture to make it a real classic stay. If you were patient with the water, at least a ten minutes wait, you could enjoy the best shower ever.
We topped off the day with a visit to the McDonald Observatory for a “Star Party.” No, we didn’t see Sandy Wood, famed from our years listening to NPR, but we did almost freeze to death while waiting our turn to look through the six telescopes at the galaxies far, far away. I’m really happy to have had the experience, but I think one "star party" is enough for a life time.
2/1
Fort Davis, Texas Hiked 11.5 miles
Unfortunately, the predicted 18 mile an hour wind did come into being, and because of it, we opted for “Plan B.” Although I wasn’t excited about it, we walked the Sheep Canyon Loop through the state park, an 11.5 mile loop that was mediocre at best. We walked up a gentle grade through scrub brush and burnt grasslands. We spooked two deer and met a nice, older man from Eastern Texas, the highlights of the experience.
The best part of the day was going to the Stone Village Market, a rather interesting cultural experience. Our waiter, a middle aged man with long, stringy, braided red hair and an official ZZ Top beard, made us a couple of excellent sandwiches and a cup of smoked brisket soup to die for. He was a friendly, gregarious man from Dallas, who had dropped out of city life to live in isolated West Texas. Amazingly, he and his rather counter cultural looking staff, had been embraced by the rural community and had a rather thriving business. His motto was, “No smile, no service.”
2/2
Marathon, Texas Biked 75 miles
Kim and I completed the Fort Davis Cyclefest Classic, a 75 mile, 3700 feet ass kicker. The first part of the ride was absolutely wonderful, as we had a nice tail wind, smooth pavement and absolutely no traffic. I counted three cars that passed us over the first 40 miles of the ride.
The Classic did have some elevation. The first pass we pedaled up had a small village of steel corrugated buildings of differing sizes and shapes spread over a large area on both sides of the road. I wondered what it was about. A ghost town for some long dead mine? A migrant worker complex for a slaughter house? Finally, I spotted a historical marker and pulled up to read that this was a church camp that held over 1200 Christians each summer. The first thing that came to my mind was how much Texans love the Lord, for to spend even 24 hours in one of these tin ovens during the summer must be the equivalent of a summer vacation at one of the German death camps during World War II.
As our ride continued, we spun our way by small pockets of house sized boulders, gorgeous rock hoodoos lining the mountain tops and ultimately, an almost alpine setting, where small conifers lined the highway. We would see an occasional cow or two, a few small groups of horses, but mostly it was burnt yellow grasslands with an occasional cactus and weather beaten creosote bushes.
The last 30 miles were actually prettier, but due to the small pebbles that made up the Texas sized chip seal, it was punishing. The road zigged and zagged, climbing and descending. You roared around tight corners and slowly spun your way up the steep grades of the next hill. However, consistently, you rolled over the small, punishing pebbles. At one point, I stopped my bike to rest my feet, which were were a mess of tingling nerve endings complaining about their rough treatment.
The day ended with disappointment. Kim had the world famous Gage Hotel on her radar and we, being totally famished, couldn’t wait to inhale some charred chunk of bovine. Unfortunately, our waitress immediately set our dreams afire when she explained that they were remodeling the kitchen and were no longer serving in the bar. It would be a three hour wait to eat. Stupidly, we sat down to drink a beer while we waited. My stomach immediately started to complain about needing food, and as the alcohol hit my fatigued body, I knew I could not wait. Ultimately, we drove 30 miles back the way we had come to Alpine, Texas, where a tatted up, friendly, Christian waitress performed a miracle and had a vegetarian pizza on our table within ten minutes. I loved that girl like a sister after that feat.
2/3
Chisos Basin Hiked 6 miles
We finally made it to our ultimate goal, Big Bend National Park. Since I hadn’t really done my homework before the trip, I had no idea of what to expect. I think we were both pleasantly surprised to find that our lodge was located within the rugged Chisos Mountain Range at 6000 feet.
Since we only had half of a day left by the time we checked into our room, we elected to do the Window Hike. I must say that I enjoyed the whole package. The basin was surrounded by rugged granite mesas and peaks on all sides, and as we worked our way down to the only opening of the lower basin, we found a tiny, smooth as polished marble, slot that had been eroded by water through the centuries. As you looked out the slot, you marveled at distant, blue/grey buttes in the horizon. It was all quite pretty.
2/4
Chisos Basin Hiked 12.5 miles
I must say that I like staying in national park lodges. We simply leave our room and amble over to the dining room for breakfast and dinner. When we’re ready to hike, we walk right out our door and wander over to the trail. No need for a car, and you can sit on your porch enjoying your beer while looking up at huge granite buttes.
I might add that the park itself is incredibly quiet and slow paced. Big Bend is so anti-Yellowstone. Since it is out in the middle of no where, the Texans we had met on the trail had all driven for over eight hours to get to the park, it is almost Alaskan in character. You own the place. I’ve never been in a national park with so few people. No lines, no hiking behind the grouchy old man who will not let you pass, no crazy traffic to jet your blood pressure.
Our hike for the day was the South Rim. As is typical, I had zero clue of what it all entailed. We started with a fairly mediocre wander up a gradual incline to a pass overlooking the valley. I thought to myself, “This is alright, but not worth driving to Mars and back.” The trail kept climbing, and then all of a sudden we came to our first major reason to drive across Texas. We looked down upon miles and miles of rugged formations, buttes, spires, and rip saw looking ridge lines. The closer ones were dark blue, and as your eye traveled out into the horizon, the landforms faded to a light grey. My ancient Canon’s shutter clicked and clicked. I just couldn’t get enough of it. As we continued on around the corner, the vistas became more and more impressive. It was so awe inspiring, so beautiful, that we stopped for lunch twice, within a mile of each other. The walk back down Boot Canyon featured a rugged wash, where standing water had collected in pools from the last storm, large granite spires jutted into the horizon and then ultimately, just when you thought that you were done with being amazed, a series of yellow hoodoos appeared that glowed in the indirect sunlight of the overcast day.
The only negative of the day was my choice of footwear. I had selected my Hoka trail runners, which had cost a bit more than a small fortune. Sadly, they gave me a blister on my left heal, which made every step on the way down the steep trail another chapter in misery. Thank the good Lord, I had a prescription for two very potent IPAs upon return to our room, which I savored fully. Every sip of my beverage minimized the pain emanating from my injured foot.
Even the food at the national park lodge was good. Our waitress provided wise counsel, making our dining experience very enjoyable. One wouldn’t think of smoked turkey legs for fine dining, but I must admit that it was an excellent recommendation.
2/5 Chisos Basin Hiked 7 miles
Our last day at Big Bend was a good one. We started out by doing the much recommended Lost Mine hike. It was another winner, with beautiful views of the distant formations that lay below our perch high on the top of a rugged ridge line.
After we completed it, we hopped in the car to do the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive to the Rio Grande, where we hiked up St. Elena Canyon for a couple of miles. Honestly, after our previous day, it was all anticlimactic. It was beautiful, with one short section of the drive filled with Valley of Fire colors, whites, blacks and dark reds within a short radius, and many dramatic rock spires in the distance. However, both Kim and I were really ready to move on with life. We had experienced the best that the park had to offer, and were only going through the motions in completing our itinerary.
Perhaps the most important lesson of the day was heat. It was 88 degrees when we got back into our car after the river hike. That is 88 degrees in February. Can you imagine being there in April or May? Think August! Hell would be preferable.
2/6 Terilingua Biked 42 miles
It’s funny how things work out. I woke up after a mediocre night of slumber with a sinus head ache and a somewhat burnt out view of life on the road. Yet, we persisted in packing up and drove out of the park to find the Terilingua ghost town. It was a good thing that we got lost, having driven right past the turn off for our destination, as the only signage was a weather beaten old piece of wood with a faded “Terilingua" painted on it. We continued on in the direction that I had planned to ride, finding it filled with steep hills and somewhat limited visibility. I suggested to Kim that we opt for plan “B,” returning to the park for our ride, and immediately she concurred that it was a much better place to pedal a bicycle.
We both loved our ride. We ultimately worked our way up the Ross Maxwell Scenic Road towards the Rio Grande River, a gain of over 2000 feet in elevation in the initial 18 miles. Since we had started late and it was hot, 87 degrees when we got back to the car, we opted to turn around before the big drop to the river. Nevertheless, the highway was quiet, the pavement was smooth and the scenery was pleasant, as we peered off at the Chisos Mountains and ancient volcanic buttes and hoodoos in the horizon.
The real treat came with our arrival at the Big Bend Holiday Resort Hotel, which is in all truth, the most character filled, colorful tourist trap in America. The initial walk into the store, which stands in an old building fronting the hotel, is an experience to behold. It is an absolute clutter of colorful, semi-tacky tourist trinkets and old artifacts from the frontier days on the Rio Grande. It is also a cultural institution, so each afternoon, a huge group of authentic elderly Texas hippies meet on the large porch area to drink beer and carry on for the tourists, who sit back in awe at the whole experience. I must admit, I ate it up. Television has never been this interesting.
After you finish your beer, you amble to the end of the building, where you enter the Starlight Theatre and Restaurant, which was once the home of a beer drinking goat. Sadly, he has enjoyed his last lager, so he now stands enshrined, stuffed actually, with a 12 ounce Lone Star in his mouth.
Since it was two for one burger night, and we had been too passive in getting in line to enter the eatery, we found all the tables filled. Thankfully, a friendly couple from South Dakota invited us to share their table. As we devoured our burgers, which were actually very good, we listened to a white haired, husband/wife band play 1960’s classics like Joan Baez and Bob Dylan. It was one of the more interesting nights I’ve spent in many years.
