Up around the Bend

For some reason, Pandora was remarkably perceptive on which Classic Rock songs to present for our drive last weekend.  We had just hit I-10 when this song came on.

That was the first non-classical music album my Mom allowed me to buy with my lawn mowing money.  Which probably explains why 1812 Overture is one of my all time favorite pieces of music.  (Provided, of course, they use real cannons in the recording.)

So, juvat, why is that "Up around the Bend" appropriate?

Well, Sarge, Mrs J, MBD, SIL and I were headed to Big Bend.  I believe this was my 10th visit, Mrs J's 3rd, MBD's 2nd and SIL's first. 

There's an awful lot to like out there, and even at 10 visits I haven't seen it all.  And, unfortunately, I didn't remove anything from the list I hadn't seen.  Not for lack of trying, mind you, but Mother Nature gets a very big vote on what you can or should do.  It's even bigger when you're in a desert a hundred miles from the nearest medical facility.

Judgement is crucial.

But, it was a pleasant trip. I mean there's a lot of things to like about this drive.

I mean, as soon as I enter I-10, the speed limit is 75, about 10 miles later, it turns to 80 and stays that way til just outside El-Paso, about 500 miles.  Now, for those of you who grew up on being on time on target, that's 4 miles every 3 minutes.  So, we've got that going for us.

Also, in the above picture, you can see that traffic was absolutely horrible!  And the situation behind me is virtually the same.  (Yes, Beans, if you zoom in real tight, you can see a car and a truck on the cusp of that hill in the distance.  So, I was tailgating, sue me!)

Didn't need to but when we got to Fort Stockton, we filled up with gas.  Judgement, doncha' know?
(For the record, there is a gas station at the park headquarters, but it wasn't there the last time I was.  Oh...and it's about a dollar per gallon more expensive than in Fort Stockton.

So, leaving Fort Stockton on US 385, the traffic situation improved a bit.

Well....I washed the bugs off the windshield, anyways.

As one can see, the weather was quite nice.  Highly accurate truck thermometer was reading 82.  We arrived at the Gage Hotel in Marathon about 5:30, so about 4.5 hour drive and got checked in.  My first stay at the hotel was right after the new millennia started when I drove a group down in my limo.  The tour was led by a very famous former Dallas Cowboy defensive lineman, whose last name is also the name of a flower.  

No, Beans, not Pete Rose....for several reasons.

I had stayed in the original portion of the hotel, directly across the street from the railroad tracks.  Trains came through every half hour or so all night long, blowing their horn as they crossed the two intersections in town.  Which were the intersections about 200 yards to either side of my window.  

It was a long night.  But, I digress.  If you stay there, and you should, stay in the Portales suites.  Very nice, with a old west kinda style.  Waterfall shower heads (I think it's possible you could drown standing up).  Oh, and the town passed a law banning train horns after dark.

So, much better all round.

The view outside our door.

 

A hawk eyeing the Hors d'oeuvres.  He didn't get any, but a good looking bird.

 Walked over to the White Buffalo Bar and had something to clear the trail dust.

Macallan 12 did quite nicely.

MBD and SIL joined us after a while.

We didn't mind waiting.

In any case, dinner was next on the agenda.  I had a steak which was quite nice, although most of the other choices were a little too frou-frou for me.  Guys, we're in the middle of nowhere, leave the vegan stuff elsewhere.

After a post-dinner libation, we settled in for the night.

After breakfast, which was good, at a coffee shop that was selling bags of "Viva la Feminista" coffee, which was interesting, we hit the road again.

Due south for about 100 miles.

Traffic was again horrendous, however,  the Federal Government decided that the speed limit in the park was 45. BTW, that ridgeline is about 30 miles away.  Our first stop will be in the gap on the right side of it.  Those are the Chisos Mountains and we'll be headed to the Chisos Basin.

As one can see above, we are transiting desert.  One of the interesting things to appreciate here is the different microclimates.  Where that photo was taken, is not a good place to break down.  Yes, it's on the "main drag" of the park, but I think I saw one car in the 45 minutes it took to get from the front gate, to the park headquarters.  

But as we got closer and higher in elevation, the flora started to change, from tumbleweeds to now yucca and cholla.  Beware the latter.

As we progressed higher (the basin is about 5400'), the yucca thinned out a bit and Cedar trees showed up.

Pretty soon, that gave way to full grown trees.  The ridge line in the background is where the park entrance is.

There was a little pull out there with an artistic shot.  Mrs J is taking the previous picture as I snap this.  Unfortunately, the cell phone didn't quite pick up the colors correctly, the ridge was a much deeper shade of brownish red.

Finally arriving at the Chisos basin, (MBD insisting it's Cheetos Basin), we set out on our first hike of the day.  Hadn't gone too far when we came across this interesting yucca.  Not sure if it has any cultural or biological significance (although, undoubtedly, caused by global climate warming change cooling), just thought it was interesting.

And finally arrived here.  "The Window".  There's a bench here in the shade and we spent probably a half hour just looking at things.  I could feel my BP dropping.  

 All good things must end, so we headed back to the truck and started out for our next stop, which would be a "first" time thing.  Hiking Santa Elena Canyon.  But first we stopped in the Quick Stop and bought MBD some....Cheetos!

It's about an hour and a half drive from the Basin to Santa Elena, a combination of the speed limit and the fact that 45 is too fast in parts of it.  Along the way, I got a view of the Window I hadn't seen before.

 Yes, we're back in the desert.  After quite a bit more horrible traffic, we started to approach Santa Elena Canyon.

The canyon is just to the right of the road.  About 10 miles away.

Now the only other time I'd visited this area of the park, we were with our winemaker friends.  We'd planned on having a picnic lunch after hiking the canyon.  Being winemakers, a picnic lunch meant wine would be involved.  So, rather than leaving the victuals and libations unguarded, I, being the selfless person I am, volunteered for guard duty while, they and Mrs J hiked the canyon.

So....There I was* on a dangerous mission, to guard the treasure from untold devils in the heat of an early fall afternoon.  As time went on, I sought something to slake my thirst.  Alas, they, not realizing the selflessness of my actions, and the purity of my heart, took the wine opener with them.

I settled for water.

So, I haven't hiked the canyon...yet.  That was the objective of this trip.

Important Safety Tip: Mexico left, United States Right.  Don't cross the banks.

 
As we approached the target area, I noticed that the water level was a tad higher than the last visit.  Since the trail begins just to the right of the green vegetation, we knew that we would have to cross the small tributary in the lower right.  However, the last time we were here, that tributary was mostly dry.

Undaunted, we approached the problem. 

Unfortunately, we were outfitted for hiking in the desert, not wading rivers.  The long pants and boots, wouldn't do well.  These fine young Indians, not Native Americans, attempted the crossing.  We could see people on the trail, we knew it was doable.

However,  The young guy about to embark gets to the middle and sinks to mid-waist.  He continues across and climbs out.  His black pants were a slimy gray color.  

We elected to remain on this side and hike the canyon another day.

As we headed out of the park, MBD gets a phone call.  (Cells are a blessing and a curse, you don't have a signal when you need one, and do when you don't want one.)  There's a large hubbub at her company, (She's one of the officers), and they need her home ASAP.

So...we head back to Marathon, have a decent Barbecue Dinner accompanied by a very nice porter, and then settle down by the fire pit.  Those young enough to tolerate and not end up with a coronary or Glucose incident had S'mores.  I had Macallan.
 

The following morning, we saddled up and rode east for several hours, arriving at our homestead, safely.

Thus ended another fine adventure.  


Had to get this into the hopper early.  Little Juvat is back in the country for some training in Sodom on the Potomac.  Mrs J and I are flying out to spend the weekend with him and maybe visit a museum we haven't yet. 

More to follow. 

This was posted before I learned about Sarge's Familial Tragedies.  I know no more than the rest of you.  All I can offer are prayers.