WEST TEXAS: BIG BEND RANCH STATE PARK AND BIG BEND NATIONAL PARK

December 28, 2018

We had originally tried to make this a trip without a ton of driving. Bob loves to drive, but our son and I are not quite as fond of being passengers. Unfortunately, the trip turned out to be mostly driving, with some short to medium-long stops along the way.  Luckily, we had a couple of good books to listen to.  We had finished When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanthi on the long drive from Phoenix to El Paso (#1) and then on to Alpine (#2), and we started Educated by Tara Westover on our second day of driving from Alpine to Big Bend Ranch State Park (#3) and Big Bend National Park (#4)

We began the day having breakfast in Marfa (#5), a little town with a big spirit that I'll write about in another post. Then we headed south towards the Rio Grande River through a rather barren but still interesting desert landscape.

This rock with a smiley face painted on it was a little random.

It seems odd to have a state park and a national park right next to each other. We started in the state park.

Glimpses of the Rio Grande were tantalizing.

We got out of the car several times to explore, starting with the Hoodoos Trail, an easy 1.1-mile loop that leads to a scenic overlook of the Rio Grande.

Along the way we saw several hoodoos, or mushroom-shaped geologic formations cased by water and wind erosion.

There were a few man-made wonders as well.


This area must be a geologist's dream.

We left the trail and walked down to the Rio Grande. THIS is the "Grand River"?  It looks smaller than the stream that flows through our local canyon.

This river actually starts in south-central Colorado, passes through the length of New Mexico, and then--beginning in El Paso--forms the border between Texas and Mexico, a total length of about 1,900 miles, give or take a mile or two depending on the year.  Depending on whom you ask, it is either the 4th- or 5th-largest river in North America.

During the last 100 years, heavy water consumption by farms and cities along its length have drained about 80% of the original flow.

The river is pretty shallow and not particularly fast. It would be pretty easy to cross from Mexico to Texas and vice versa, which I'm sure happens a lot.

Just don't accidentally run into one of these:

. . . or one of these:

Our next stop was Closed Canyon. At first I thought the sign meant the trail was closed, but it refers to the geography.

The advice on the map and information board didn't exactly inspire confidence . . .

. . . but it certainly didn't make my two men nervous.

Closed Canyon is a narrow slot canyon with walls that rise to the height of a 15-story building.

The variations between shade and sun make the walk interesting and also create distinct temperature shifts.

Adding people to the picture helps define the size of those walls.

More fascinating geology--rock sculpted by wind + water + time.

This slot canyon was probably my favorite natural place on the trip.

After about a half-mile of walking, we got to a section with large pools of water that made it impossible for us to continue.

So we turned around and headed back to the starting point.

In between Big Bend Ranch State Park, where we had spent the morning, and Big Bend National Park, where we spent the late afternoon, is the tiny town of Terlingua, population 58. We were starving and ready to eat anywhere. Surprisingly, they had a restaurant that served pretty decent Mexican food, the High Sierra Bar & Grill.  We had poblano chile rellenos and tacos.

With a bellies full of good food, we moved on into Big Bend National Park, 20 miles down the road.

It was late afternoon, and the light began to have that wonderful softness that comes at that time of day.

We walked to the edge of the "mighty" Rio Grande, enjoying all that nature had to offer, including these wonderful patterns in the mud and the kaleidoscope of pebbles on the shore:

It was hard to believe we were just a long wade from Mexico.

We heard the tinkling of bells and finally figured out that it was a herd of black and white sheep grazing on the perilously steep hills of the Mexico side.

The King of Rock Skippers.

We stuck around until dark, listening to our book, so that we could take a good look at the night sky. Bob had read that that Big Bend is one of the darkest places in the continental U.S. It was worth the wait (and the book was good).

By the time we got back to our hotel at 9:00 PM, however, the temperature had taken a precipitous drop to a chilly 24°, a surprising temperature for a place so far south.  We realized we had been lucky to have a relatively warm day.

READING

In God Save Texas: A Journey into the Soul of the Lone Star State, Pulitzer prize-winning author Lawrence Wright takes on the complexities of his home state, a mini country sharply divided by wealth and poverty, immigration and ethnicity, politics, and many other issues. (The one thing Texans seem to be united on is their dislike of Californians.)  He calls it a culture that is “raw, not fully formed, standing on the margins, but also growing in influence, dangerous and magnificent in its potential.”  Texas is easy to stereotype, and while Wright embraces and even laughs at the stereotypes, he also presents a state that is much more complex than it seems to be when looking at it from an outsider’s point-of-view.

Towards the end of the book he covers multiple places in West Texas, including Marfa and Big Bend National Park.