Uniquely Theo

The next days destination was Big Bend National Park in Texas – named for the huge u-turn the Rio Grande makes there. It was about 120 miles straight on down and there was NO traffic. Great route if you want to drive and feel a bit of solitude. I knew very little about Big Bend other that it borders the Rio Grand and Mexico. The surrounding area on the drive down was desert which was interrupted every so often with a small ridge of mountains or buttes but nothing on a grand scale.

This is really a remote part of southern Texas. So I was quite take by surprise as I got close to Big Bend, the Chisos Mountains and canyons and sandstone cliffs and buttes began appearing on a large scale. It offers diverse landscapes of desert, mountains and river. There are a multitude of hiking trails and also access to the river. It was stunningly beautiful after so many many miles over the last couple of days of relatively featureless desert, oil country, and cattle ranges. We were into the campground and set up by noon. I opted for the Chisos Basin which was by far the best choice for tent camping (or small RV). There were lots of sharp curves and steep grades, both up and down, to access this campground in mountain lion, javelinas, coyotes, rattlesnake and bear territory!!!! It keeps the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Getting to a campsite early in the day was a first ever for me I think in the travels.

 

Again, since the dogs aren’t allowed on the trails I opted for the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive over to Santa Elena Canyon and the Rio Grande – that fluid border between Mexico and the US and of course at this time of great political controversy. The drive was lined with multi-hued mountains and canyon walls and lookouts across the vast area. There was lots of geological splendor to take in.

My favorite formation and vista was the “Mules Ears.” It is not that it is so beautiful but so aptly named.

Seeing the river at two points in the park made it hard to imagine that this ribbon of greenish brown sluggish appearing water has carved deep canyons. But given the sapping of its waters via dams, irrigation, manufacturing, agriculture and evaporation, it is by no means at it’s Rio Grandest here. But I enjoyed seeing its narrow flood plain in the mist of the arid desert and the mouth of the Santa Elena Canyon – half a canyon in the US and the other half in Mexico. It’s walls tower a 1500 feet above the Rio Grande A drive like this, so filled with the remarkable wonders of the natural world, is so satisfying and somehow in those moments everything seems right with the world.

Back in camp at a reasonable hour, I cooked the first hot meal I had in several days, followed by a relaxing sunset walk around the campground. It was fun talking to a couple of folks who were part of an Adventure Cycling bicycle tour. They had quite a challenging ride getting up the campground as the winding road rises at least 2000 feet above the desert floor as it transition into the cooler mountain environment. I had taken a couple of trips with Adventure Cycling many years back and often thought of another — though I know it will not be this one.

The next day I opted to break camp though I had originally thought about staying put another night. I find it harder and harder to stay in camp as I yearn to hike the trail I read about . But because of my fur buddies that is only possible in a minute number of instances. There will be a day I will return to some of these park to hike. I decided to visit the southeast corner of the park and enjoy the impressive Sierra del Carmens and views of the Boquillas Canyon.

Then it was time to move on to a new phase of this trip. 

At this point I was ready to head straight home. I still had close to 1500 miles to go and decided to split it over three days. Even though I was already on the way in my head the boys were not.  Neither one of them wanted to leave the camp that morning].

 

Another decision was to dump my “spare” lifestyle and stay in LaQuinta Hotels — always nice, great beds and very dog friendly. I would do 450-500 mile days but still try and stay off the interstates as much as possible. Overnights were in Del Rio, TX; Lake Charles, LA; and Ft. Walton Beach, FL. I can’t say that there was anything extraordinary about the rest of the trip though a few challenging incidents. The worst day was the drive from Del Rio from San Antonio thru Houston and on to Lake Charles. I had hoped to take 90 across but it just became an impossibly long haul, so I entered the truck traffic corridor of I-10. I always regret those decisions but it did serve to expedite the journey home. I find I am gripping the wheel so tightly with all the traffic barreling down the highway that my wrists ache and are sore long after. The speed is usually 75 which of course means most are going 85 and I find that exhausting. But a lovely room awaited us in Lake Charles LA. By morning the room was not so lovely because Kili began his bout with diarrhea. The first was a mad scramble episode down the elevator after he frantically barked and charging outside before he exploded. No chance of getting to the pet walking area!!! The second occurred of course in the middle of the night when I was asleep and we had lots of piles of poop all over the entryway. Thank goodness it was not the carpet or bed. Poor little guy. We had such a bout with this in Colorado on the way out. Against my better judgement, since he would not eat any dog food, I got him his McDonalds cheeseburger which he devours. Of course Simaba has to have one too so now he does not want any dog food (though there is nothing wrong with him!) The next day I vowed to get back on route 90 and I did so for a much more relaxing journey until I lost it when I hit the New Orleans area. So I wandered around (in car) some very dilapidated areas of New Orleans trying to get back on track but finally opted to take I-10 (aargh!) When 90 crossed it again I gladly jumped on it and enjoyed the drive along the Gulf through Biloxi MI until I had to get around Mobile AL via I-10. At Pensacola I could again enjoy a more peaceful, though stop and go ,drive to Ft. Walton Beach. Here was another very nice LaQuinta and it being not so nice in the morning with Kili’s poop again in at least 20 spots by the front door. This is not my favorite way to start the day – but I am sure anyone could guess that. So I pick my way around it to get them out to the pet area (which of course we did not make it too again), come back and clean up the room and finally my coffee! My intent was to drive across route 20 from Ft. Walton but I got detoured up to I-10 (find this hard to believe) because route 20 was blocked for the Ironman Florida bike course north of Panama City that day. It was a 40 mile detour but I could hardly be annoyed as I did Ironman Florida twice and was grateful it was blocked off for my ride. I finally got off I-10 past Tallahassee and wound my way down 19/27 until past Homosassa Springs and then took familiar highways to Bradenton. I was 35 miles from home and Simba starting crying. So I figured I had better stop to see about that. Guess he needed to go but what made me grateful was that I had been observing a low air symbol for the last day and when I checked the tire then, it was so low that it would have probably shredded at any point. So I had a new skill to learn. Using one of those air machines to fill it. That done, I finally made it home after 14,684 miles on the road.

The next destination was Guadalupe National Park – about an 200 mile drive. We arrived as usual a bit later than I had anticipated and fortunately I was able to snag the last open campsite in the Pine Springs Campground. I had called that am and the ranger said they rarely fill up week-days so I was quite surprised. But I had not specifically asked about tent sites as they are usually all mixed in together. It was a very nice camping circle for tent campers as the sites were nestled in a vegetated area. The problem with the campsite was it was a walk-in site meaning I had to follow a path (probably only 1/10 mile) to site. It sounds simple enough except for being this sole person with two dogs. I had no compact arrangement of all the camping stuff and I must have made 5-6 trips dumping the stuff I thought we would need into bags . I did not want to carry the cooler and food boxes to the site. This became a problem later. The other issue was that it was on top of a knoll with very little in the way of shade trees or bushes – but in this case mostly  a need for tress to block the wind. It was WINDY!!! Very, very, very WINDY! So setting up the large tent was not an option. I opted for the two person tent which was challenging enough. I had to set big rocks in the corners to keep it down so I could actually get the poles in the sleeves and the tent up. A man in a campsite near me saw me struggling with putting the rain fly on as it kept trying to sail away on a journey to the bottom of the valley . He came over and helped me get it secured.

It was so windy that I wasn’t even going to attempt to cook but had my lunch meat and cheese on Wasa crackers for dinner (same as lunch at White Sands). Then the fun began of trying to get situated with my stuff, my cot, the dog beds, the cooking equipment and my clothes bag in a very small space. The dogs did not want to be in their beds but they wanted to park their little dirty furry bodies in my bed and root around in my sleeping bag. They were a bit unsettled with the wind. I didn’t want then in my bed so kept moving them but they were intent on playing the game of musical beds. Additionally I had not wanted to take the little bit of cheese and dog food back to he car, down the path in the dark. So I stowed them in the tent (which is something I never do in bear country – which this is not – though there are still lots of varmints that could pose a problem). Simba was on a mission then to get to that food. Now he had already had his dinner, polished off Kili’s and then had little bits from mine. So i got into another “game”of blocking Simba and then plopping him in his bed. I in no way shape or form wanted to go out in that biting chilly wind. Somehow things finally settled down (that is everything but the wind) and we slept the night. Morning was still windy but there was  a lovely sunrise and I managed coffee without getting blown over.

Given the extreme wind advisories for the next night, I had no desire to spend another night on that windy knoll so we packed up – a bit more efficiently and had only three trips to get everything back to the cart. Then I fed not-so-pretty Priss two quarts of oil. She consumes oil just like I used to consume beer. Guzzle, guzzle. The goal for the day was to continue to explore Guadalupe and then on to Carlsbad Caverns.

I did not plan on taking the cave tour at Carlsbad as I had done that previously and it would have meant putting the dogs in the park kennel (which is a great service and I would have used it if I had never done that tour before. But I had hoped to have a picnic lunch in the park. When we arrived at the visitors center the temperature was in high forties and there was a cold biting stiff wind. It just about blew Simba away so that picnic was a non activity. We all happily rushed back into the nice warm car.

The last option to experience more of Carlsbad was to take the gravel scenic loop drive. One of the first stops was at the rattlesnake canyon trailhead. I certainly can’t imagine that anyone in their right mind would want to hike in a canyon with that name. And this desert territory is definitely rattlesnake country. But the drive was enjoyable and the scenery, though, not spectacular had its own uniquness.Carlsbad Cavern NP was founded to preserve the Carlsbad Cave as well as approximately 80 others in what I never realized was a Permian age fossil reef

Then I drove onto Ft Stockton Texas. The route down from Carlsbad, Hwy. 285 was probably on of the most horrific 80 miles I have driven on this whole trip. It was a very rough two lane highway which serviced many of the oil wells and it was packed within huge tanker truck for miles. I would just finally pass a couple and think it was clear sailing when right up ahead i see another huge one pull out onto the highway. Then there was construction of on oil pipeline which closed off one lane so at least twice we waited 10-15 minutes for the pilot car to lead us through. When we got into Pecos there was more construction and endless back-ups at traffic lights. Interstate 20 crosses there and once passed that, voila it was clear sailing. They could all fight each other on the highway. I really am grateful for interstates when I absolutely have to have them but mostly because they divert most of the traffic off the of secondary roads and then, on them, it is relatively clear sailing.

I had made a reservation at a Motel 6 again as everything was pricey in that town. When I arrived the desk clerk said they had no first floor room that I requested, as they were sold out days ago. SO I inquired about what was so popular about Ft. Stockton. He replied nothing. It’s the oil field workers that occupy them for days at a time. So this is the first time since traveling with the dogs that I had to cart everything up the stairs (a three tripper) including Simba. At least Kili can negotiate the stairs. Pretty Priss Prius fit right in with all dirty mud caked trucks parked around her. She had just as fine of a coat of dust as mud as any of them. I fit in a well with the oil workers with my dirty filthy camping clothes that are laden with dust and dirt. When I finally decided to take a shower around 9:00 , i kept waiting but there was no hot water. Guess everyone had a lot of mud and dirt to scrub off. So I decided to take a cold one as after calling it would take a while to get the water up and hot again. The biggest pain was taking the dogs down the stairs last thing at night and first thing in the morning and then doing the parking lot shuffle and merry-go-round. Since Motel 6 rooms are minimalist and thus no microwave I about panicked over the coffee issue but by now I have it all down pat. I use my jet boil to heat the water for my S’Buck’s Via. I figure it is no different than a gas stove that gets used indoors. So I had my hot coffee and oatmeal.

I wanted to be on the road by 9:00 am and breaking camp has gotten to be a slick (well that might be an exaggeration) routine. I think what makes a difference is I no longer worry about dirt and try and sweep out tent and get all of the sand and grit off the equipment. Just roll it all up and while my dirty hands on my dirty pants. As it happened in Organ Pipe Cactus NP Kili yet again sat alone in the middle of the empty campsite and just didn’t want to move on. Perhaps he is road weary and not into this change thing like his “Mom.”

But we bid adieu to Mt. Lemon, enjoyed the drive down though I still am still aghast at the gray pall hanging over the Tucson Valley (and most everywhere else I have travel in the western states). I counted at least thirty cyclist grinding up the mountain as I was heading heading down. There was a day I would have probably joined them but was not looking upon them with envy for sure. The goal was a Suburban Extended Stay Motel in Alamogordo, New Mexico with a visit to White Sands National Monument the next day. I was trucking along the interstate (there was no feasible alternative route ) and saw a sign for Chiricahua National Monument. Thinking I may never be back in this area (way too many new areas to explore) that why not take a side trip to visit it. So I sailed off the ramp and headed that way. Then a sign announced it was 42 miles to it. iI began to second guess myself since I had no idea why it was created or what the uniqueness was to designate it a monument. But since the drive today was not an extensive one, I continued on through a pleasant valley, a sea of grass dotted with mesquite and cactus, and up into an isolated mountainous range. Chiricahua Monument is very biodiverse as it intersects he Chihuahuan and Sonoran deserts and southern Rockies and northern Sierra Madre. It was established to protect the pinnacles. Rock pinnacles tower over the road that winds up into fir woodlands. There is an infinite variety of spires, and rocks balanced on top of one another and often appearing as if these rock towers might topple over any minute.

The many shapes can let the imagination go wild. So I was in great form finding faces in the myriad of balanced rocks on the 8 mile scenic drive to the summit, Massai Point.

I noticed I was low on gas but knew I had enough to get back to the interstate. But I wanted to take the shortest route which would take me through the historical site of Fort Bowie. The hitch was it was 12 miles of more gravel roads. It was a lovely bucolic drive in rolling hills. One of the problems with these gravel roads is that the jiggling tends to loosen the front clamps on my car top carrier and it, having a mind of its own slides over the right side of the car – definitely not very aerodynamic. So yet again i would have to get out my step stool (because I am SO short) to fix the clamps when at my destination.

 

Once back on the interstate, I had to take the next exit for gas which was 23 miles up. When refueled and with fountain soda in hand I got back on the interstate going west— the wrong direction. It was 12 miles back and 12 miles forward before I was truly on my way. I began to think I was on the wrong road – one that was permitted for trucks only because it seemed I was squeezed up front and behind and on the side by one truck after another. I would pass an occasional car but to pass the time I decide to count the trucks and cars going in the opposite direct for a few miles. When I reach 100 trucks I had counted only 51 cars. Is I wasn’t completely skewed in my perception of this truck route. I finally arrive at the motel around 6:30. I think and was a bit relieved to not be setting up camp. I inched my little Prius in between two monster pick-ups and observed she was surrounded by more and more trucks in the parking lot. I am beginning to think I am behind the times! Shortly thereafter I began to re-remeber why I prefer to camp vs. motels. It is awful trying to walk a couple of dogs around a motel parking lot (or if I chose so here, along a busy highway). As with most motels west of the Mississippi every single border is some kind of stone – rarely a blade of grass to be seen and if there is some it is wild and full of burrs. So Simba poops right in the middle of the parking lot. I felt like leaving it there but dutifully picked it up. He hates to walk on the stones or burrs. But a hot shower felt great and spent some time on the internet— which was painfully slow. As I was thinking about turning off the light it occurred to me I had to make the rounds of the parking lot again with the pups— camping they can just hop out of the tent and find their own spot in the woods. So I had to put on my clothes again and perform the ritual circles.

I had thought about spending another day at the motel but change my mind since the wifi was pathetic and I was bored to tears circling the parking lot. But I did get a load of laundry done , checked out and we were on the road to White Sands National Monument in the Tularosa Basin. This monument captured my heart years ago when I was in southern New Mexico. This to me is a very wistful and serene place with white gypsum shimmering sand dunes of all sizes and shapes in the Chihuahua Desert. It is a vast sea of wave-like dunes in the desert. That seem to be alive as they are constantly building, cresting and then receding. The sand seemed hard packed and moist and because of the gypsum remain that way in draught. I took a hike with the dogs (yes they are dog friendly here) up one of the dune trails but they were not very keen about the sand. Many years ago I had my heart set on camping at White Sands and because of violent thunderstorms they closed the park and did not permit me to go into the campsites. I was so angry and upset but looking back I can understand the reaction given this is such a magical place. It was great fun watching kids slide down the dunes in saucers and then having a picnic in one of their “space age” picnic shelters.

 

 

After leaving the monument we were heading directly east across the desert to the Tucson area. I planned to first go to Saguaro National Park – Tucson Mountain District Unit. There was a level paved walk around their cactus garden so I set out with the dogs. By now it was 12:30 and it was already in the low 90’s. I didn’t have much enthusiasm for it nor did the dogs after about 10 minutes. So we piled back in the car and headed off to do the Scenic Bajda Loop Drive. I kept thinking, through much of the desert, and here in Saguaro, that some jokester had come along and plant massive fields of green prickly fence posts or perhaps telephone poles. They just dotted the land for miles.

 

But I soon discovered theses “post” have already had a long life. But I soon discovered theses “post” have already had a long life cycle. The Saguaro cactus grow very slowly and though these looked to me like new fields of cacti, most of these 7+ foot of cacti would be about 50 years old. They don’t sprout even their first arms for about 75 years. When I see these saguaros with their arms reaching towards the sky I think of the salutation to the sun routine in yoga. These cacti appear to be reaching to the heavens . So the field of posts took on a whole different meaning, now seeing them as living elders with the wisdom to survive and grow in the harshest of environments. The Bajda loop was be very similar to the washboard dirts roads of the Organ Pipe scenic drives and though quite lovely did not seem nearly as spectacle as the Ajo Drive. So to amuse myself I did have fun making up roles various cactus were fulfilling. There were dancers, huggers, twisters, muscle men, schnoz’s, and it probably does not need saying but a multitude of phalluses.

Since the Ironwood Forest National Monument was only about 15 miles from here I decided to drive over there. There may be no main entrance but Siri took me to the wrong side from what I can gather. No real entrance sign and a terrible road. I pulled over a ways in to get a better look at a magnificent saguaro cactus and along came a truck. The driver was making sure I was okay and then suggested I not go much further as it gets rougher and one needs a higher clearance vehicle. He then told me how to go around so the other side of the monument. At this point I determined this idea was a bust and I best head to my campsite in Rose Canyon up the Catalina Highway on Lemon Mountain. This is a gorgeous drive though it was sad to see the Tuscon valley covered with smaze and thus views so distorted. The drive is referred to as the Sky Island Scenic Byway, referring to the areas in Arizona where pine covered mountains rise above the desert. Suddenly while driving, after about a few miles, I became aware that I had now left the desert suguaro cactus and was back up in conifer territory, with spruce and pine at the highest elevation .

I also kept seeing the temperature dropping for each 1000 feet of altitude we were gaining and within that hour it went from 91 to 59 degrees. I arrived at a lovely wooded campsite at an elevation of about 7500 feet. I welcomed by a jovial host, who even volunteered to charge my computer when I asked if there was anyplace near where I might be able to do that. I purchased some firewood and proceed to set up camp and have dinner. My plan was to have a cozy evening by the fire but after walking the dogs up to the camp hosts site to retrieve the computer all I wanted to do was hunker down in the tent out of the chilly wind…which is exactly what I did.

I was really looking forward to a down day here on Mt. Lemon. So we had a slow ease into the day morning and when well nourished and after having gotten better organized I wanted to visit Rose Canyon Lake. So Kili, Simba and I had a brisk walk – temperature that is – not pace. We went down into the canyon on the forest service road and found this small trout which lake quite charming. There were a fishermen by the shore and Kili was smelling his food – so the man generously gave Kili a big chunk of his beef burrito. I have met so many really nice and friendly people along the way. No big conversation but many pleasant little chats. So we gazed a bit and returned to the campsite.

Todays drive was up to the top of Mount Lemon – a very short 10 miles. I stopped at a couple of vista but there was so muchparticulate matter in the air it was hard to see anything at all very clearly. There was also a lot of scarring on the hillsides from forest fires. A ranger i spoke with said most are from lightning strikes but sometimes there is one from a careless camper. I passed a few cyclists on the way up. Many of the professional triathletes I have read about who train in the Tucson area use the Catalina drive to the top of Mt. Lemon as a training ride. What a long 25 mile uphill grind!!! I finally found a grocery at the Ski Village – well one that actually sold pricey lunch meat and hot dogs along with the usually souvenirs (of course saying Mt. Lemon not Florida or Colorado). So I got my minimal appetite dog some hot dogs. The rest of the was spent at the campsite relaxing, writing, early dinner and the first campfire of the return trip.

Most of the areas I have travel through are in a high danger fire zone so campfires were out of the question. But up here in the conifer forest at about 7800 feet altitude there was minimal danger. Sitting by the campfire brings back so many memories of both spending summers at Mullet Lake in Michigan as a child and also all of my wonderful experiences as a Girl Scout.