A reluctant departure from Big Bend
This is my third and final part of my trip to Big Bend. If you haven't read the first two entries, you can read them here: Part One, Part Two
For some extra immersion, try listening to the brilliant The Legend of Big Bend by Montopolis, an amazing band out of Austin.
I did learn a few things from my disastrous first time camping: I should do any level of research.
And that was pretty much it. My trip to Big Bend did have a level of research, but it was low. I didn't know food options, what I would find, what level of accessibility I would have to water, or even what I could hike. I knew there were hikes, which was at least something. But I didn't have any frame of reference for how remote it is. I had no idea how I was going to contact my mom to let her know I made it okay. The loss of cell service had not even occurred to me. But, honestly, I didn’t mind it. The spontaneity added a sense of wonder.
The Sam Nail Ranch Trail in the early morning shadows
I spent my third and penultimate day at Big Bend National Park finally going on a hike - my first ever hike! I decided to start on the Sam Nail Ranch Trail. I got up bright and early, ate a filling breakfast at the gas station (biscuits and gravy), and drove into the park just as sunlight started to kiss the horizon. It was a delightfully frigid morning in the Chihuahua desert, with strong winds. The trail was heavily shaded, winding through the yard of the ruins of an adobe home. I had no idea how ‘easy’ easy would be, or how quickly I’d get through it. The entire length of the trail took me about twenty minutes, maybe less, but I’d always only intended this to be an appetizer to a main course.
I had been torn between either one of the mountain trails or the desert Chimney’s Trail. On one hand, the alpine climates of the upper Chisos was said to offer the best views of the park according to the information center at Panther Junction. However, something about the low lands appealed to me.
I decided on the Chimney Trail, with the intention to revisit the park eventually to hike the mountains when I was more experienced. The Chimneys refers to the tall rock formations as seen in the picture below, which stand sentinel over the trail. The trail solidified my favorite terrain for hiking: wide open space that leaves me feeling swallowed by the landscape. As much as I enjoy looking down on creation from the highest point, I adore peering up at those same giants arguably more.
The Chimney's Trail - not really a pronounced trail, but rather a slightly flattened path through rugged desert grass, mountains in the distance, swallowed by the majesty of Big Bend.
The Chimneys was my first true hike. It is about 2.5 miles to the actual Chimneys rock, but you could go on further and make it 7 miles on direction. I had a small 2 ounce water canteen to bring with me through the desert. I also had no hat and wore a warm, long sleeved shirt.
Look, I'm bad at planning, okay?
I rationed my water, and set off deeper into the park. I still remember the silence as I began to follow the path past the trailhead. It was quiet with only the wind blowing through the grass. Soon the road was gone behind me, and I had the realization I was very possibly the most alone I had ever been in my entire life.
Yet, I felt no fear, no melancholy. I felt a deep connection to the grassland around me; I was not merely in it, I was part of it. The mountains seemed to watch me, an ancient intelligence that had seen thousands of winters. But for that fixed moment of time in 2017, they were mine, and I was theirs.
The Chimneys themselves are the heart of the trail
It's not just the rocks you should expect to see on the trail, but the signs of humans past. Petroglyphs and pictographs both mark the rocks, where we assume ancient humans once rested. These symbols predate known tribal affiliations that we know were present in this area. These images are from around the time of agriculture was just getting started in the Western Hemisphere. I moved up to get a better picture. I, for a brief moment, was sharing the steps of the ancestors who came before me. Nearer the dawn of mankind than now, an ancient human rested upon the place where I was standing, and painted the expression of themselves onto the face of the world.
A message shared to me. Their name is long forgotten. But they are not. They are, for a moment, alive again. I'm an witness to that ancient soul, and that is beautiful.
Humanity is a shared experience
After my first day I hiking, I learned how amazing a burger hit after a hard hike.
I killed some time before my ride lingering in the town itself. I got some more pictures of some of the old ruins, and checked out the town. I found an art studio on the top of a hill overlooking the desert below. I got a piece of a cat prowling in some desert flowers for my mother, who loved cats. She's passed away now, but I still have that piece hanging on that wall.
I had a sunset ride through the old quicksilver mine scheduled with Big Bend Stables for my final night in the Chihuahua Desert.
The sun set ride was amazing. My steed, Cheyenne, was docile and friendly. I was with several other riders, but they were fairly quiet. We rode in silence for long stretches, only interrupted by the occasional point of interest by the ride guides. After about two and a half hours, they took us to a spot to take pictures mounted in the scenic desert. I got that picture framed and gave it to my mother. I still have that picture as well, I'm pretty sure.
All in all, a perfect night to end a transformative trip that gave me a new view of life.
I went home early the next morning, but I knew I had experienced something special. If there's anything this recollection has made me realize, it's this:
I need to go back.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this little series~