Big, Big, Big Bend National Park

What the traffic on I-10 in West Texas lacks in frequency it makes up for in hugeness.

To gear up for Thanksgiving we've been listening to the audio book of "The Wordy Shipmates" by Sarah Vowell. Just so you know, listening to an audio book is a much preferred alternative to reading a novel while driving. The book is a very detailed and surprisingly humorous (except for the starvation, sickness, and gangrene business) account of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, the group of Puritans who first established Boston and Salem. It's also a great book for this trip because it adds to the sense of national pride that we already feel.

We have found ourselves uttering some version of, "Our country is amazing" more than a few times during this trip, and the moment Big Bend National Park came into view was one of them. The huge, jagged, red-brown rock formations set against the stark Chihuahuan Desert was a bit foreboding yet strangely inviting. The timing of our visit certainly made the park more hospitable than it would have been a few months ago, when the average temperatures were in the mid-90s and would often spike to over 100 degrees (the sun-baked sand and rocks get much hotter than that). We, on the other hand, were greeted by beautiful, bright blue skies, thinly stretched white clouds, and temps in the mid-70s.


It looks like we're parked in front of a painting! But we're not.

After reading the "How not to die in the desert" information the NPS provides (there are so many interesting ways to perish!) we registered for a back country camping permit with Ranger Rob. He kindly informed us that we ought not to let Murphy out of our sight because there are any number of creatures in the park that would be perfectly happy to trample, gore, poison, and/or devour her. Our favorite of these threats is called the javelina. Named for their javelin-like tusks, these guys weigh about 40 lbs., travel in packs of 20 - 30, and resemble pigs (they're of the same order, artiodactyl, as swine) but are technically Peccaries. Their pungent scent glands have also garnered them such flattering nicknames as "skunk pig" and "musk hog".


"Hey! I heard that!"

Ranger Rob, knowing we were on a somewhat tight schedule, showed us how to get the most out of our visit. We were directed to take a drive to Boquillas Canyon on the south eastern edge of the park by the Rio Grande, get out of the car for a short hike along the river, hop back in the car and drive to Chisos Basin in the center of the park for more stunning views, and then do our best to find and set up our campsite at Terlingua Abajo, in the south western corner, before dark.


Map of Big Bend National Park

Ranger Rob's wisdom was immediately apparent. Our stop in Boquillas Canyon offered beautiful scenery that was drastically different from the park's interior views. Since I lack the words that would do this place justice, I will defer to these pictures, and a short recording of Singing Victor.


Prickly pear (opuntia) cactus in the foreground, Rio Grande and Mexico beyond. This type of prickly pear is also called a "paddle cactus" because it resembles a ball-and-paddle toy.


In front of the mighty Rio Grande and Mexico.


Past this point the canyon gets much more difficult to navigate.




Lauren walking in Boquillas Canyon


The sound quality from my camera is not great but the acoustics in the canyon were.

Next stop Chisos Basin:


On the road to Chisos


Look at those glorious mountains!


The visitor's center at Chisos Basin.


In case you failed to appreciate the previous picture.


It would have been nice to stay until the sun set on those mountains, but it was time to find camp.

Off to Terlingua Abajo:

After the paved road ends, we have about 13 miles of dirt track (which was often narrow and rocky) before we reach our destination.


Can we make it by sundown?


Yes!


Secluded? Perhaps too much so.


HOLY SPINES.


It comes in a lovely and equally painful purple as well.


Tonight, we dine on grilled cheese and soup.

Our feast aroused the curiosity of a very bold kangaroo rat, who nosed around at the edge of our campsite just out of Murphy's reach. She was not pleased.





Sunrise. We had a brief rain shower overnight.


Ocotillo on an overcast morning.



We packed up our gear and left the campsite for Carlsbad, NM, opting for an indirect but breathtaking drive along the Rio Grande. We had been told that it was one of the top 10 rated scenic routes in the country and would recommend it to anyone who has the extra time. Carlsbad here we come (in third gear, at an average speed of 35 mph)!