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I'm still waiting for my DVDs!!! These red x's are killing me!
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Desert Rats' Xmas in Big Bend
- Thread starter TexasShadow
- Start date
I'm almost done with all the photos! No, really... honest.
I'll email you your fix in a bit.
Gilk51
2
- Joined
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- Messages
- 17,300
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- Location
- Arlington, Texas
- First Name
- Charles ("Chuck")
- Last Name
- Gibke
I have TWO special DVDs for him as well as the other Elzi Special DVDs.HmmmmmmElz - you were going to send him a special DVD...
They're only for special people
Desert Rats' Playground
Every morning carried a sense of peace and urgency, anticipation and placidity, cold and warmth. That is the conundrum when one visits places in which your heart, even your physical being, is captured. Once taken hostage, there's no letting go. You are a prisoner of its past, present and future. It overlays your own presence and future so deeply that when you leave, you are never gone. When you return to the life you left, you can't just slip back into the mainstream. You've stepped through a door into another world like Narnia, the hidden closet door, and you can never really leave it. At least, not whole. Because a part of you is now a part of there. And it remains there until you return to reclaim it, to submit yourself to the essence of that place that holds your heart.
Two or three days in such places dosn't peel back the layers to let you sink into and immerse yourself. But seven, eight, nine days allows one to meld into the life and physical reality there. Like osmosis, you become a part of it, it becomes a part of you. If you let it.
Leaving is sometimes painful. Until you return. And never have to leave again.
The reality of leaving wouldn't hit us until the next day. I knew it would come; I've felt it many times. I didn't know about the others, but the next day would reveal a sense of unease and loss; that anticipation of leaving. Today was a day of homage, tomorrow would be a day of solitary commemoration. And sadness. Like leaving the bed of your lover; that warm bed and presence of love, fulfillment, happiness and satisfaction. It's visceral and spiritual. You don't want to leave.
As nearly every morning we woke to the sun chasing shadows across the ridges, mountains, canyons, arroyos, and cacti. The desert's color palette never ceases to amaze me. What some perceive as only a boring pallid and desolate landscape, some of us watch the day unfold and night ascend in every color imaginable, blazing or subtle. It's never the same. It's more alive than the bustling city I am tethered to every weekday.
Roger and David partaking in the ritual of nearly every morning: coffee, comfy chairs overlooking the floor of the barranca, sitting behind David's trailer sheltered from the wind.
In the rose-tinted golden sunlight of the morning, Tom and Don packed their bikes for the return home.
The rest of us piled into the Big Desert Ratmobile for breakfast at the Kosmic Kafe. Richard trying to impress a pretty visitor to the BB area:
Don and David discussing the merits of pink short buses:
We were sorry to see Don and Tom ride out. We enjoyed their company during their short stay.
Back at base camp Ed and I decided to do explore the local area. Like many small towns, Terlingua is full of character, both on the surface and underneath.
Riding north of the tourist-geared ghost town, we explored an area of small adobes and rock structures. Some of these were ruins from early habitation, others were homes for locals and very lived in. The juxtaposition of old and current was typical of an element that this area nurtures. Locals live with the geological and cultural history of the desert, integrating themselves just enough that old and current meshes and blends well. Large deviations are obvious and unsightly like a thistle in a rose garden.
Our little 250's were so agile and ready to ride and maneuver places in the desert. Paved street speed became a non-issue. These little bikes could go anywhere.
As always, no matter which way one turns their sight, the views are magnificent. By that day, I found myself easily recognizing the landmarks. While they had 'official' names, I had my own names for many of them.
We soon found our way in the Terlingua desert on the county and TRA roads. Leading, I turned and rode where my curiosity guided me. We came upon an adobe-style home in construction. Parking the bikes, we explored the details of construction and water catchment system.
Being an outdoor person, I admired the extended living space: the covered porches. The views were just fantastic. I kept thinking, "Oh yeah. I could live here...."
We rode on following various turnoffs and desert roads:
And then found *the* spot. The triple secret spot that would grow inside our heads like a snowball rolling downhill: a possible site for Desert Rats' Camp Base. The views were magnificent in every direction.
Close by were fun roads and canyons:
Wiley approved!!
And so did our bikes.
I explored the vegetation in the area and found one of my favorite cacti!! Um, a few of the Desert Rat gang already know what I've named these little thorny things
We continued on with our exploratory ride and found ourselves up a ridge that caught our attention earlier. The views were absolutely magnificent no matter which way you turned.
Again, there was *that* road again. The road that would claim me. And soon I would know.
The trail on the ridge emptied down into the Ghost Town where we sat on the porch for a break and cold drink. Then we made the obligatory stop at the famous Terlingua cemetery.
Daylight was fading fast. It was time.
Time to finally submit myself to *the* road: my Ridge Road. The anticipation was almost killing me.
Here she was:
And like Captain Ahab strapped to the big white whale, I gave myself to her.
I didn't stop to take any photos on the way up; I was too engrossed, immersed in the ride. Up on the ridge, the exhilaration was indescribable. The only reason we stopped was the large sign on a gate: Private Property. As much as I wanted to continue on, I honored their privacy. Then I got off the bike to see what I could see.
I smiled at the juxtaposition that we had just earlier ridden the ridge opposite to us.
Now losing sunlight quickly, we began the descent to the desert floor. I stopped on the side of the road to take photos where a level area allowed me to stop without careening over the handlebars.
Reaching the bottom of the canyon floor, the adrenaline controlled my right hand and opened the throttle open while grinning like a mad woman inside my helmet and "Whoohoooo!!!!!"s escaping uncontrollably from my mouth. I buzzed past Ed on the gravel road and barely stopped at the highway, just long enough for Ed to catch up and turn with me.
The adrenaline and Ms. Hyde still at the throttle, I whizzed past Ed in our lane, riding like a mad bee on the loose, gunned up Roger's road, speeding into camp and whooping like an Indian with a sardonic grin plastered on my face. AGAIN!!!!!
The road was mine. And we will be reunited next month.
I slept like a desert rock that night.
Every morning carried a sense of peace and urgency, anticipation and placidity, cold and warmth. That is the conundrum when one visits places in which your heart, even your physical being, is captured. Once taken hostage, there's no letting go. You are a prisoner of its past, present and future. It overlays your own presence and future so deeply that when you leave, you are never gone. When you return to the life you left, you can't just slip back into the mainstream. You've stepped through a door into another world like Narnia, the hidden closet door, and you can never really leave it. At least, not whole. Because a part of you is now a part of there. And it remains there until you return to reclaim it, to submit yourself to the essence of that place that holds your heart.
Two or three days in such places dosn't peel back the layers to let you sink into and immerse yourself. But seven, eight, nine days allows one to meld into the life and physical reality there. Like osmosis, you become a part of it, it becomes a part of you. If you let it.
Leaving is sometimes painful. Until you return. And never have to leave again.
The reality of leaving wouldn't hit us until the next day. I knew it would come; I've felt it many times. I didn't know about the others, but the next day would reveal a sense of unease and loss; that anticipation of leaving. Today was a day of homage, tomorrow would be a day of solitary commemoration. And sadness. Like leaving the bed of your lover; that warm bed and presence of love, fulfillment, happiness and satisfaction. It's visceral and spiritual. You don't want to leave.
As nearly every morning we woke to the sun chasing shadows across the ridges, mountains, canyons, arroyos, and cacti. The desert's color palette never ceases to amaze me. What some perceive as only a boring pallid and desolate landscape, some of us watch the day unfold and night ascend in every color imaginable, blazing or subtle. It's never the same. It's more alive than the bustling city I am tethered to every weekday.
Roger and David partaking in the ritual of nearly every morning: coffee, comfy chairs overlooking the floor of the barranca, sitting behind David's trailer sheltered from the wind.
In the rose-tinted golden sunlight of the morning, Tom and Don packed their bikes for the return home.
The rest of us piled into the Big Desert Ratmobile for breakfast at the Kosmic Kafe. Richard trying to impress a pretty visitor to the BB area:
Don and David discussing the merits of pink short buses:
We were sorry to see Don and Tom ride out. We enjoyed their company during their short stay.
Back at base camp Ed and I decided to do explore the local area. Like many small towns, Terlingua is full of character, both on the surface and underneath.
Riding north of the tourist-geared ghost town, we explored an area of small adobes and rock structures. Some of these were ruins from early habitation, others were homes for locals and very lived in. The juxtaposition of old and current was typical of an element that this area nurtures. Locals live with the geological and cultural history of the desert, integrating themselves just enough that old and current meshes and blends well. Large deviations are obvious and unsightly like a thistle in a rose garden.
Our little 250's were so agile and ready to ride and maneuver places in the desert. Paved street speed became a non-issue. These little bikes could go anywhere.
As always, no matter which way one turns their sight, the views are magnificent. By that day, I found myself easily recognizing the landmarks. While they had 'official' names, I had my own names for many of them.
We soon found our way in the Terlingua desert on the county and TRA roads. Leading, I turned and rode where my curiosity guided me. We came upon an adobe-style home in construction. Parking the bikes, we explored the details of construction and water catchment system.
Being an outdoor person, I admired the extended living space: the covered porches. The views were just fantastic. I kept thinking, "Oh yeah. I could live here...."
We rode on following various turnoffs and desert roads:
And then found *the* spot. The triple secret spot that would grow inside our heads like a snowball rolling downhill: a possible site for Desert Rats' Camp Base. The views were magnificent in every direction.
Close by were fun roads and canyons:
Wiley approved!!
And so did our bikes.
I explored the vegetation in the area and found one of my favorite cacti!! Um, a few of the Desert Rat gang already know what I've named these little thorny things
We continued on with our exploratory ride and found ourselves up a ridge that caught our attention earlier. The views were absolutely magnificent no matter which way you turned.
Again, there was *that* road again. The road that would claim me. And soon I would know.
The trail on the ridge emptied down into the Ghost Town where we sat on the porch for a break and cold drink. Then we made the obligatory stop at the famous Terlingua cemetery.
Daylight was fading fast. It was time.
Time to finally submit myself to *the* road: my Ridge Road. The anticipation was almost killing me.
Here she was:
And like Captain Ahab strapped to the big white whale, I gave myself to her.
I didn't stop to take any photos on the way up; I was too engrossed, immersed in the ride. Up on the ridge, the exhilaration was indescribable. The only reason we stopped was the large sign on a gate: Private Property. As much as I wanted to continue on, I honored their privacy. Then I got off the bike to see what I could see.
I smiled at the juxtaposition that we had just earlier ridden the ridge opposite to us.
Now losing sunlight quickly, we began the descent to the desert floor. I stopped on the side of the road to take photos where a level area allowed me to stop without careening over the handlebars.
Reaching the bottom of the canyon floor, the adrenaline controlled my right hand and opened the throttle open while grinning like a mad woman inside my helmet and "Whoohoooo!!!!!"s escaping uncontrollably from my mouth. I buzzed past Ed on the gravel road and barely stopped at the highway, just long enough for Ed to catch up and turn with me.
The adrenaline and Ms. Hyde still at the throttle, I whizzed past Ed in our lane, riding like a mad bee on the loose, gunned up Roger's road, speeding into camp and whooping like an Indian with a sardonic grin plastered on my face. AGAIN!!!!!
The road was mine. And we will be reunited next month.
I slept like a desert rock that night.
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2007
- Messages
- 11,737
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- 9
- Location
- Lost in space
- First Name
- Ken
- Last Name
- Haley
Hurry up, February!!!!
The Roads Less Traveled
One of the greatest inventions since ice cream is Google Earth. And it's dangerous.
While browsing some of the topography of the roads we were on down in BB, of course I *had!* to check on the Ridge Road. Well, it is indeed a road that runs a 'ridge', but more appropriately it is more interesting than that.
It runs along the top of a fault and hugs the bottom of another fault. Huh?
Originating from the paved highway, the road is on an ancient limestone bed in a long draw: flat and fun. Then it begins to climb the very end of a two-mile long plateau: Reed Plateau. Steep and hairy.
It was created by uplifts from below the earth surface during the Cretaceous period and was a shallow coastal plain next to a shallow ocean basin (so may have dinosaur fossils). The hard limestone cliffs that rise above the draw floor are the first uplift, the second uplift rises above the first (3K feet above sea level).
After the road climbs the SW tail end of the plateau it bends back in the direction it ran before the climb, northeast, and along a shelf on top the first uplift. The south, or left, edge of the road hugs the base of the upper uplift and the very top of the plateau.
Exploring the edges of the plateau on Google Earth I realized I had parked the bike on top of a hill at the northern edge of that plateau the next day. A phenomenal view that overlooks the draw and Terlingua, the floor of an ancient ocean, with the far eastern view of the Chisos, Sawmill and Christmas Mountains. (photos of that will be posted later)
Looking at the three-dimensional maps on Google Earth made me feel as though I had just been on an airplane ride over that area, and gone back in time. Speeding forward, I pieced several stops and spots together where I had ridden and it all fell together.
All I could say was "Wow!"
I also found some gravel/dirt roads that climb the plateau on the other (eastern) side.
Now I'm curious to see if they are navigable by bike. Maybe I should see if any other Desert Rats want to go exploring........
Oh, and two other puzzling phenomenas I found on Google Earth associated with the side of the plateau near the road: several straight gouges in the land. The look too straight to be natural, but too big and inaccessible to be man-made. I wonder what they are....
And, the wash that runs near the base of the cliffs and down in the draw runs lightly UP the base of the cliffs! Now that makes NO sense...... I'll have to check that out, too.
Google Earth is dangerous for off-road riders..........
One of the greatest inventions since ice cream is Google Earth. And it's dangerous.
While browsing some of the topography of the roads we were on down in BB, of course I *had!* to check on the Ridge Road. Well, it is indeed a road that runs a 'ridge', but more appropriately it is more interesting than that.
It runs along the top of a fault and hugs the bottom of another fault. Huh?
Originating from the paved highway, the road is on an ancient limestone bed in a long draw: flat and fun. Then it begins to climb the very end of a two-mile long plateau: Reed Plateau. Steep and hairy.
It was created by uplifts from below the earth surface during the Cretaceous period and was a shallow coastal plain next to a shallow ocean basin (so may have dinosaur fossils). The hard limestone cliffs that rise above the draw floor are the first uplift, the second uplift rises above the first (3K feet above sea level).
After the road climbs the SW tail end of the plateau it bends back in the direction it ran before the climb, northeast, and along a shelf on top the first uplift. The south, or left, edge of the road hugs the base of the upper uplift and the very top of the plateau.
Exploring the edges of the plateau on Google Earth I realized I had parked the bike on top of a hill at the northern edge of that plateau the next day. A phenomenal view that overlooks the draw and Terlingua, the floor of an ancient ocean, with the far eastern view of the Chisos, Sawmill and Christmas Mountains. (photos of that will be posted later)
Looking at the three-dimensional maps on Google Earth made me feel as though I had just been on an airplane ride over that area, and gone back in time. Speeding forward, I pieced several stops and spots together where I had ridden and it all fell together.
All I could say was "Wow!"
I also found some gravel/dirt roads that climb the plateau on the other (eastern) side.
Now I'm curious to see if they are navigable by bike. Maybe I should see if any other Desert Rats want to go exploring........ Oh, and two other puzzling phenomenas I found on Google Earth associated with the side of the plateau near the road: several straight gouges in the land. The look too straight to be natural, but too big and inaccessible to be man-made. I wonder what they are....
And, the wash that runs near the base of the cliffs and down in the draw runs lightly UP the base of the cliffs! Now that makes NO sense...... I'll have to check that out, too.
Google Earth is dangerous for off-road riders..........
Re: The Roads Less Traveled
So, spot marked to stop and check out next month on the bike!!
Oh, and the canyon that wash runs through is awesome. It's like a beautiful tunnel. (another spot to stop on the bike)
*giggle*
Who needs Lewis and Clark when ya have a dirt bike??
One last look and I figured that out: the cliff above drains the shelf onto the draw floor. That's why it looks like the wash 'climbs' the cliff. It doesn't; the water flows off the shelf there and washes the cliff face so that wash looks like it's running uphill.
So, spot marked to stop and check out next month on the bike!!
Oh, and the canyon that wash runs through is awesome. It's like a beautiful tunnel. (another spot to stop on the bike)
*giggle*
Who needs Lewis and Clark when ya have a dirt bike??
- Joined
- Feb 16, 2006
- Messages
- 917
- Reaction score
- 10
- Location
- Sumter, SC
- First Name
- Russ
- Last Name
- Thomas
I have TWO special DVDs for him as well as the other Elzi Special DVDs.
They're only for special people
Woohoo! I'm special! Special, in a good way, I hope!
jhansen
0
- Joined
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- Messages
- 7,210
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- 820
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- Spring Texas 77386
- First Name
- Jeff
- Last Name
- Hansen
IThey're only for special people
My mom says I'm special cause I ride the short bus.
Voni
0
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- First Name
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- Last Name
- Glaves
I can't thank you enough! Your pictures and commentary are superlative! We've lived here north of Study Butte for the last year and a half and are continually blown away by the beauty of this place.
You capture it in a whole new way and I really appreciate your hard work to share it with us all.
I'd feel so sad for you coming to an end of reporting your most recent journey, but I'm glad to know you'll be back in February.
Looking forward to meeting you then.
Voni
sMiling
You capture it in a whole new way and I really appreciate your hard work to share it with us all.
I'd feel so sad for you coming to an end of reporting your most recent journey, but I'm glad to know you'll be back in February.
Looking forward to meeting you then.
Voni
sMiling
Elzi, You've done a fine job reporting your BB trip to all the readers of this forum. If you don't sell this adventure story to some publication soon you are pulling up way short of your capabilities. Your work is definitely professional quality.
IMHO you should be our resident expert on Big Bend.
Thanks for a job well done.
IMHO you should be our resident expert on Big Bend.
Thanks for a job well done.
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2007
- Messages
- 11,737
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- 9
- Location
- Lost in space
- First Name
- Ken
- Last Name
- Haley
Elzi, T-dub and I will be in Big Bend for a few days at Roger's Ride the Rio event. Chain and sprockets in mountain goat ratio are on. New back tire is on. Cables and swingarm lubricated. Barnett clutch is in. I'm taking a break from scraping engine cover gasket right now--my fingers are cramping. What does Yamaha make those things out of, anyway. Fresh oil and filter going in as soon as the case is bolted up. Tune up is next, then LED bulbs replacing everything except the headlight. I have a gnarly knobby for the front, new fork oil, and fork gaiters to go on Tuesday, after the TC M&G&E.
The only ride I have planned so far is the River Road that Ed posted about. T-dub and I will be thrilled to assist with the explorations. I'm hoping Adventure Bear will be able to join us. He will be good company for Wiley.
The only ride I have planned so far is the River Road that Ed posted about. T-dub and I will be thrilled to assist with the explorations. I'm hoping Adventure Bear will be able to join us. He will be good company for Wiley.
Thanks for the kind words, Gerry and Voni. After the ride down in BB next month, I intend to combine material -photos and narrative- from all three trips into an article to submit to a motorcycle periodical. Not Ride Texas (it seems that they always publish an article about destinations I just visited, right after I did. As if someone were following me. It's a bit bizarre.).
Thank you for the encouragement.
Now on with Day 10.
Thank you for the encouragement.
Now on with Day 10.
- Joined
- Feb 28, 2003
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- Huntsville
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- Scott
- Last Name
- Friday
Start your own magazine... 
Commemorative Day
My sinuses and nose wouldn't let me sleep anymore. Having this head cold from Day Two (I lost track of days very quickly, and didn't care), I spent most of the nights blowing my nose or stuffing Kleenex up my nostrils to dam the flow. This morning I woke with undirected wayward energy. To avoid becoming a miscreant I decided early that I was going solo; I needed my own ride somewhere.
Apparently my mood was infectious or it had stricken all of us. The other sorry-looking remnants of the Desert Rats were sullen and moody. Camp was like a small bunch of wet rats bumping into each other while swimming in cold water.
David and I were the first ones up, barely up with the rising sun. After making coffee, we both watched its glow slither over the Chisos Mountains in the distant; a golden orange creeping over black silhouetted curves, peaks, sharp pointy mule ears and rolling lines.
Soon golden rays would bask the Mesa de Anguila, the magnificent and towering cliffs that ended at the mouth of Santa Elena Canyon, and turn them into a radiating wall of rose, gold and amber. Then the strong rays of the hot ball of plasma that turns our nights into day made their entrance like a queen.
Everything in camp was basked in amber and rose light as the sun began to climb the sky. The cliffs of the Reed Plateau across the draw floor to the west were aglow with colors. It was a light show that nothing man-made can best.
David, Ed and Roger went to Kathy's for breakfast; I stayed behind to get my dose of solitude and have conversations with the desert. With full coffee mug and camera, I explored around Roger's again.
I found some new buddies:
and a wash that drains Roger's little plateau down the draw and wash below. It was a chute of limestone shale, the bottom smoothed like a flagstone bathtub. The walls stacked with shale, all the loose sand long since washed out and down to leave a wonderful showcase of textures and colors.
I even found my shadow amongst them. It wanted more coffee. And grub!
Wiley joined me for breakfast; I think he was tired from frolicking with his fellow canines. I heard them yipping several times... of course, it didn't help that I edged them on and called them in on all three sides of us. *shrug*
I sat for awhile in Roger's Posthenge and communed with the desert.
When the others returned, some of us were snarling at each other. It was time for everyone to go off on their own for the day. A solitary communing with the desert on our last day there. And we all knew Roger needed a break from us ....
Sherpie ready for the charge, water stashed with protein bar, tons of kleenex, fresh camera batteries and I was off. I headed east on Farm Road 170 (I proclaim we change it to River Road 170!)
Eventually I stopped at the Big Bend Ranch State Park center.
Had an enjoyable and lively chat with Ranger David. Roger was correct in that he's a good guy and a wealth of information about the area. He freely shared with me his map of north Terlingua desert and some local history. In response to an inquiry about future employment opportunities there with the park, he was encouraging. They just might have a position opening for a biologist........
The courtyard is a desert garden that is like a magical land in itself. It's awesome.
Sauntering outside, the day was well highnoon, from the glare of the sun, and I wandered through the desert plant collection and up the hill behind the center. At the top I sat under a roof in the shade sipping water and enjoying the view overlooking Lajitus to the west, Rio Grande to the south and the center, mountains and ridges inside the park to the north.
Refreshed, I wandered back into the courtyard again with a different perspective:
and then spent the next hour inside the fantastic exhibit depicting and explaining the geological, natural, and cultural histories of the surrounding areas (the entire Trans-Pecos region). It was fascinating and answered so many questions I have had since my first visit. I highly recommend the trip inside.
Eating my food bar in the shade of the adobe, rock and timber porch, I washed it down with more water, geared up and rode on.
I just rode. It was just me, the road, the bike and the desert. Hardly any traffic and I felt as though it all was just mine. All mine. MINE!
Heading back west on 170 I rounded a curve at the crest of a hill and...
Whoah!!!! I was so drawn into and absorbed in the views below and panned out in front of me as I rode down the road, I was lost. A mile or so later, when I finally came to my senses, I decided I needed to go back and do that again. So I did.
Turning around, riding up the hill and doing a U-turn, I approached the curve and the crest of the hill, pulled off the road to the side, parked the bike, took off the helmet and just stood there like a drunk. Awesome.....
I was able to captures something that may represent the view,
and got one from right in the middle of the road. Glad traffic was almost non-existent.
Now, this is Thirtyeight Hill. Why is it called that? I'd sure like to know. Perhaps it is associated with the Little Thirty-eight Mine nearby. I have the GPS coordinates of the mine; maybe I'll check that out, too. (Man, do I need a GPS! All these GPS coordinates and no GPS....
) This hill is also the northern shoulder tip of Reed Plateau! Where My Ridge Road is.......
Riding back into camp, everyone seemed in better spirits. Camp Chef David outdid himself again with dinner. That guy is just amazing.
We caught Wiley and Yotey howling at the moon, Wiley under the tutelage of the very best.
And we were honored with a nice sunset over the Chisos.
it was the last day, last night. We had a good day, good night in commemoration of our fantastic adventure there.
My sinuses and nose wouldn't let me sleep anymore. Having this head cold from Day Two (I lost track of days very quickly, and didn't care), I spent most of the nights blowing my nose or stuffing Kleenex up my nostrils to dam the flow. This morning I woke with undirected wayward energy. To avoid becoming a miscreant I decided early that I was going solo; I needed my own ride somewhere.
Apparently my mood was infectious or it had stricken all of us. The other sorry-looking remnants of the Desert Rats were sullen and moody. Camp was like a small bunch of wet rats bumping into each other while swimming in cold water.
David and I were the first ones up, barely up with the rising sun. After making coffee, we both watched its glow slither over the Chisos Mountains in the distant; a golden orange creeping over black silhouetted curves, peaks, sharp pointy mule ears and rolling lines.
Soon golden rays would bask the Mesa de Anguila, the magnificent and towering cliffs that ended at the mouth of Santa Elena Canyon, and turn them into a radiating wall of rose, gold and amber. Then the strong rays of the hot ball of plasma that turns our nights into day made their entrance like a queen.
Everything in camp was basked in amber and rose light as the sun began to climb the sky. The cliffs of the Reed Plateau across the draw floor to the west were aglow with colors. It was a light show that nothing man-made can best.
David, Ed and Roger went to Kathy's for breakfast; I stayed behind to get my dose of solitude and have conversations with the desert. With full coffee mug and camera, I explored around Roger's again.
I found some new buddies:
and a wash that drains Roger's little plateau down the draw and wash below. It was a chute of limestone shale, the bottom smoothed like a flagstone bathtub. The walls stacked with shale, all the loose sand long since washed out and down to leave a wonderful showcase of textures and colors.
I even found my shadow amongst them. It wanted more coffee. And grub!
Wiley joined me for breakfast; I think he was tired from frolicking with his fellow canines. I heard them yipping several times... of course, it didn't help that I edged them on and called them in on all three sides of us. *shrug*
I sat for awhile in Roger's Posthenge and communed with the desert.
When the others returned, some of us were snarling at each other. It was time for everyone to go off on their own for the day. A solitary communing with the desert on our last day there. And we all knew Roger needed a break from us ....
Sherpie ready for the charge, water stashed with protein bar, tons of kleenex, fresh camera batteries and I was off. I headed east on Farm Road 170 (I proclaim we change it to River Road 170!)
Eventually I stopped at the Big Bend Ranch State Park center.
Had an enjoyable and lively chat with Ranger David. Roger was correct in that he's a good guy and a wealth of information about the area. He freely shared with me his map of north Terlingua desert and some local history. In response to an inquiry about future employment opportunities there with the park, he was encouraging. They just might have a position opening for a biologist........
The courtyard is a desert garden that is like a magical land in itself. It's awesome.
Sauntering outside, the day was well highnoon, from the glare of the sun, and I wandered through the desert plant collection and up the hill behind the center. At the top I sat under a roof in the shade sipping water and enjoying the view overlooking Lajitus to the west, Rio Grande to the south and the center, mountains and ridges inside the park to the north.
Refreshed, I wandered back into the courtyard again with a different perspective:
and then spent the next hour inside the fantastic exhibit depicting and explaining the geological, natural, and cultural histories of the surrounding areas (the entire Trans-Pecos region). It was fascinating and answered so many questions I have had since my first visit. I highly recommend the trip inside.
Eating my food bar in the shade of the adobe, rock and timber porch, I washed it down with more water, geared up and rode on.
I just rode. It was just me, the road, the bike and the desert. Hardly any traffic and I felt as though it all was just mine. All mine. MINE!
Heading back west on 170 I rounded a curve at the crest of a hill and...
Whoah!!!! I was so drawn into and absorbed in the views below and panned out in front of me as I rode down the road, I was lost. A mile or so later, when I finally came to my senses, I decided I needed to go back and do that again. So I did.
Turning around, riding up the hill and doing a U-turn, I approached the curve and the crest of the hill, pulled off the road to the side, parked the bike, took off the helmet and just stood there like a drunk. Awesome.....
I was able to captures something that may represent the view,
and got one from right in the middle of the road. Glad traffic was almost non-existent.
Now, this is Thirtyeight Hill. Why is it called that? I'd sure like to know. Perhaps it is associated with the Little Thirty-eight Mine nearby. I have the GPS coordinates of the mine; maybe I'll check that out, too. (Man, do I need a GPS! All these GPS coordinates and no GPS....
) This hill is also the northern shoulder tip of Reed Plateau! Where My Ridge Road is....... Riding back into camp, everyone seemed in better spirits. Camp Chef David outdid himself again with dinner. That guy is just amazing.
We caught Wiley and Yotey howling at the moon, Wiley under the tutelage of the very best.
And we were honored with a nice sunset over the Chisos.
it was the last day, last night. We had a good day, good night in commemoration of our fantastic adventure there.
- Joined
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You need to get a personalized license plate for the Sherpa... "DEZ RAT"
Hey, I like that!!You need to get a personalized license plate for the Sherpa... "DEZ RAT"
Lots of potential there, but I'm the worst person to start/run a magazine!Start your own magazine...
I'm the writer/photographer with a cloaking device that hides in a room with the laptop and coffee maker or escapes on a bike, incommunicado for days at a time ......... But a sponsor would be great! Then I can quit this day job
- Joined
- Feb 28, 2003
- Messages
- 51,756
- Reaction score
- 9,435
- Location
- Huntsville
- First Name
- Scott
- Last Name
- Friday
But a sponsor would be great! Then I can quit this day job
I have the same problem. My life could use a good sponsor
heheh. I need to buy a winning lottery ticket.I have the same problem. My life could use a good sponsor
I'll share. (TWT Desert Base Camp.....)I may have a break through soon. Not saying anything yet until the lead pans out, but at least a book is in the first planning stages. I might pm you for feedback.
M38A1
Admin
What a fantastic trip! You've taken me places I can only dream of one day visiting.
Sometimes there is no road.
Darest thou now, O Soul,
Walk out with me toward the Unknown Region,
Where neither ground is for the feet, nor any path to follow?
No map, there, nor guide,
Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,
Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land.
I know it not, O Soul;
Nor dost thou—all is a blank before us;
All waits, undream’d of, in that region—that inaccessible land.
Till, when the ties loosen,
All but the ties eternal, Time and Space,
Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds, bound us.
Then we burst forth—we float,
In Time and Space, O Soul—prepared for them;
Equal, equipt at last—(O joy! O fruit of all!) them to fulfil, O Soul.
- Walt Whitman
Big Bend and the surrounding area can mean, or be, different things to different people. For some it is nothing more than dry empty desolate vast landscapes, so empty that it sucks the very life stuff out of them. For many it was a life of servitude to backbreaking grind and painful work as they eked out a life for themselves and their families. For some it was fool's gold; take and rob from others and the land while the taking was good. Others seek the solitude and simplicity, willing to sacrifice luxuries for solace these big empty spaces offer, trading for risk and challenges urban people only read about in old books or watch in old movies.
Then there are those of us that seek places like this for something we can't see or obtain within the microcosom of our every day world. Is it just the roads? All we want is to ride screaming down the tarmac or gravel? If that is so, many other places closer and with less discomfort can appease that desire.
Than what is it? Why do we travel, by four or two wheels, hundreds of miles to ride here where there is, by many other perspectives..... nothing? Stop for a moment next time you are down there and ask yourself that question.
"Why am I here?"
It's not just the roads. Sometimes those roads are winding.....
bumpy.....
thorny.......
steep.....
rocky......
wet.......
and muddy.
Sometimes, there is no road.
It doesn't matter. It's more than just the roads, paths, and trails that draw us. It's an intrinsic, sometimes visceral, longing to be out there. In amongst the landscape and moving. Like a petulant and persistent pendulum inside of us, we have to keep moving. Moving into new tastes, smells, sounds and whispers. Even returning again and again to get more. Each builds a layer on the one before, and a foundation for the next. And our horizons broaden each time we do.
Maybe we can't go to Africa, Belize, the Amazon or Australia. But there are so many places around us, near and far, where we can go. Each can be our own adventure. Don't scale what is available to you to places that you may never visit. Most of us don't have the resources and freedom to gallivant around the world. But we do have the freedom to go places we've never been before. Even if it is only thirty miles away. All it requires is will and determination. If you have those, you can and will find a way.
Even if there is no road, follow your heart. You will create your own road.
Darest thou now, O Soul,
Walk out with me toward the Unknown Region,
Where neither ground is for the feet, nor any path to follow?
No map, there, nor guide,
Nor voice sounding, nor touch of human hand,
Nor face with blooming flesh, nor lips, nor eyes, are in that land.
I know it not, O Soul;
Nor dost thou—all is a blank before us;
All waits, undream’d of, in that region—that inaccessible land.
Till, when the ties loosen,
All but the ties eternal, Time and Space,
Nor darkness, gravitation, sense, nor any bounds, bound us.
Then we burst forth—we float,
In Time and Space, O Soul—prepared for them;
Equal, equipt at last—(O joy! O fruit of all!) them to fulfil, O Soul.
- Walt Whitman
Big Bend and the surrounding area can mean, or be, different things to different people. For some it is nothing more than dry empty desolate vast landscapes, so empty that it sucks the very life stuff out of them. For many it was a life of servitude to backbreaking grind and painful work as they eked out a life for themselves and their families. For some it was fool's gold; take and rob from others and the land while the taking was good. Others seek the solitude and simplicity, willing to sacrifice luxuries for solace these big empty spaces offer, trading for risk and challenges urban people only read about in old books or watch in old movies.
Then there are those of us that seek places like this for something we can't see or obtain within the microcosom of our every day world. Is it just the roads? All we want is to ride screaming down the tarmac or gravel? If that is so, many other places closer and with less discomfort can appease that desire.
Than what is it? Why do we travel, by four or two wheels, hundreds of miles to ride here where there is, by many other perspectives..... nothing? Stop for a moment next time you are down there and ask yourself that question.
"Why am I here?"
It's not just the roads. Sometimes those roads are winding.....
bumpy.....
thorny.......
steep.....
rocky......
wet.......
and muddy.
Sometimes, there is no road.
It doesn't matter. It's more than just the roads, paths, and trails that draw us. It's an intrinsic, sometimes visceral, longing to be out there. In amongst the landscape and moving. Like a petulant and persistent pendulum inside of us, we have to keep moving. Moving into new tastes, smells, sounds and whispers. Even returning again and again to get more. Each builds a layer on the one before, and a foundation for the next. And our horizons broaden each time we do.
Maybe we can't go to Africa, Belize, the Amazon or Australia. But there are so many places around us, near and far, where we can go. Each can be our own adventure. Don't scale what is available to you to places that you may never visit. Most of us don't have the resources and freedom to gallivant around the world. But we do have the freedom to go places we've never been before. Even if it is only thirty miles away. All it requires is will and determination. If you have those, you can and will find a way.
Even if there is no road, follow your heart. You will create your own road.
Voni
0
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- 53 sMiles south of Alpine
- First Name
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Sweet!
And so very wise.
Voni
sMiling
And so very wise.
Voni
sMiling
