West Texas ~ Ode to Desert

I’ve learned from my travels that not always having a firm itinerary opens possibilities that lead to new places otherwise not encountered.  We learned about Big Bend National Park from a local Texan.  It’s amazing to me, that as an American, I’m continually finding out things about this land that I’d never even heard of.  Like, Texas has mountains?  The United States has 63 major National parks, and I, and most people, have only heard of Yellowstone and Yosemite, the two most popular.

Heading west from Austin, we passed Dripping Springs, a town with breweries and an olive farm, continued for another hour, and ended up in an area which was clearly, a thriving wine country.  At first it seemed laughable to us, but within these couple of hours the topography had turned from flatness to hill country, and we were on a wine trail with wineries from the most elaborate, to the quaint family run.  Slate Mill Wine Collective, in Fredericksburg, blew us away on that breezy afternoon, as we sipped our flights and looked out onto the rolling green hills.

Texas wildflowers lined the roads and fields in full force.  Like little dancers succumbing to the melodic breeze, their yellow-orange skirts flitted and flirted as they moved in synchronistic harmony.  

Another fact about Texas I should mention, is that from the gas station clerk, to restaurant servers, and random strangers, that most everyone in Texas is so damn nice and considerate.  Oh and they really do say “Howdy.” 

Depending on which route you take, Big Bend National Park is roughly 6 hours away from Fredericksburg.  We of course took the long route and cruised closed to Mexico, and por supuesto ate from a few obscure taco joints along the way.  A dramatic shift occurred as we drove west Texas.  Huge mountain ranges bulged out of an arid desert floor of subdued greens and a spectrum of grays, browns, and creams.  Sporadic succulents and crawling cacti pierced the sandy landscape, dappling the rocky mountain and cliff.  The dry, rugged terrain easily struck a certain, unique awe within us.

Having grown up on the coast in Florida, I still couldn’t have fathomed or understood the intensity of the beast that is desert.  Every Floridian knows, that humidity is a real thing and in the hottest days of summer you can’t even go and check your mail without coming back in a full sweat.  It’s easy for us to complain when temperatures rise to upper 90’s.  But the dry heat of the desert regions is a different beast altogether, and we saw it reach 114.  It’s like wading through a breathable sauna and it takes some getting used to, but it’s not as grueling as you would think.  You don’t really sweat and you just make it a point to refrain from being out in the afternoons.  Different from more temperate, tropical climate, the temperature increases as sunset approaches, and cools down before dawn.  Skin dries out, hair turns to straw, and thirst can hardly be quenched.

We arrived around 7pm to our campsite and prepared for sunset.  There were 360-degree views of mountains and not a person in sight.  Cloud streaks sprayed the horizon as the sun descended over the desert, lighting up the sky in golden hues.  Once the sun disappeared, the streaked clouds lit up in pinks and purples, crowning the hazy blue, silhouetted stream of mountains.  And that night, the clear sky reveled in a show of sparkling stars and vivid Milky Way.  All around was quiet.

After two days of medium-hiking-intensity, we bid goodbye to the Santa Elena Canyon, the park, its Rio Grande, to Mexico and the memory of the wild animals that had crossed our paths.  The heat pushed us on a couple of hours north, through Van Horn and into the Guadalupe mountains.  We camped at a secluded spot in Carlsbad near the caverns and had a catch-up day before the big hike up Guadalupe– the highest point in Texas.

The trail up the 8,000 ft Guadalupe mountain led along tiny, loose rocks and was alive with large, interesting-looking, flying insects and even carpenter bees.  Cicadas played the soundtrack from remote branches and birds chirped from atop the pine trees.  After two and half hours of complete uphill climbs, we reached the summit.  Needless to say, the views from the top were breathtaking.  Our legs were numb and it was totally worth it.