sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you for the new chapter.
Story Aunt Gus & Little Bear's Great Adventure Book 1 (Complete)
- Thread starter Kathy in FL
- Start date
October 5th – The Rio Grande
I made some effort with breakfast today. I made Egg and Bacon Muffins using Gluten-Free Bisquick. To that I added a health breakfast smoothie. Both Benny and I were supercharged and ready to start the day.
Today we explored the Rio Grande area of the park. I made sure all our water containers were filled before leaving camp, made sure the camp hosts knew we’d be back before dark so we wouldn’t lose our spot, and then set off for our first activity of the day which was a Rio Grande Overlook. Only 0.2 miles there and back from the parking area, but it was still worth the stop because it offered scenic views of the river that I’d seen and heard about in so many of the cowboy movies I watched with Dad.
Got a little warm-up trail action at Boquillas Canyon Trail. It was a 1.2 mile there and back trail and boy was it busy first thing I the morning. But it was okay because it featured a river as a distraction to the crowds. The people were all nice until we ran into a Border Patrol group. My looks were held against me, and we were stopped and asked for identification and proof of Benny’s identification as well. Just to be on the safe side I even gave them the blog address to prove our history together. They warmed back up after I provided proof of Benny’s identity but also admitted they wouldn’t see his likeness on the blog and why. They called it in. Apparently someone had called us in … another hiker most likely … out an abundance of caution or something similar. Sure. They could have just stopped me and asked me. I might have told them they were full of crap and getting in business that was none of theirs, but … okay, so maybe I have standing face that isn’t too friendly when I’m not paying attention to it. But they still coulda stopped and asked me themselves.
Apparently kid trafficking is getting really bad again despite no more anchor kids or being able to use them to get asylum or any other excuse. I will say I went from shook to a little PO’d at their initial approach. I get it. I do. But I didn’t like how they’d almost upset Benny. But that is the reality of life along the border. I’d just never run into it in quite that way before. I don’t want to seem like I have double standards – rules for thee, not for me. I need to stay situationally aware, and maybe hide my background and ability to speak Spanish a little more, and be less free with our facts. Stupid to have forgotten that.
The next trail was our biggie for the day. Strawhouse Trail is a 7-mile lightly trafficked out and back trail. I picked it as it was supposed to offer the chance to see wildlife without being difficult. Part of me wondered about getting so far from the van given the safety concerns but I did what I could and the trailhead parking area has a ranger parked there so I took a chance. So far so good.
Hmmm … how to describe this trail. Desert-y? Desert-ish? I don’t know but desert certainly is the place to start. Seven miles of it. I like sand as much as the next Florida girl but geez. Actually the trail wasn’t bad but it just was … desert. And where it wasn’t desert it was dry sandstone looming over us but providing no shade. And weird echoes. And the heebies. I kept waiting for Indians or Outlaws to pop out. Maybe I do have an imagination … and over active one. And not seeing one other single solitary person on the trail with us. I don’t think that has ever happened before. Three hours of it. As Benny so eloquently put it … “Weird Aunt Gus, real weird.”
Getting back to the parking lot and finding a “check in with a ranger” note on the van windshield did not help. It was a good thing that we were heading back to our camp for the night to park and do a little more hiking. I pulled into our space and grabbed a couple liters of water and then decided to walk to the visitor center and find out what the frick was going on.
“Hi. This note was left on my van while we were out hiking.”
“Oh … uh … let me get … someone.”
I was thinking uh oh.
A man comes up looking all official and asks me to come to a conference room, that Benny could wait with the other ranger.
“Uh sorry. First, not following anyone anywhere alone, especially not a man someone, and I’m not being separated from my nephew.”
“So he is your nephew.”
I just looked at him. He turned and said, “Melinda, could you come with?”
Melinda was an older woman that reminded me of Meemo, including the “damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead” look in her eyes. Then she looked at the other ranger with an “I told you so” look. To me she said, “We’re just trying to avert some problems.”
“Not averting at the moment.”
She chuckled. “The problems aren’t yours, we have an issue with someone overstaying their welcome. Unfortunately you just got caught up in it and now Admin figured out who you are and they are trying to avoid some bad press.”
“Explain the who and we’ll figure out the what and what not afterwards. Personally I don’t like drama and trouble … especially drama. As a matter of fact I detest drama so let’s figure out how to avoid it.”
I might have been turning it into more than it was but honestly … another blogger thinks whut? You know how some people get ahead by stepping on and over other people? Well there was this Mr. and Miss Thang (name withheld to protect the innocent, and if not innocent at least sane) that thought they were the only bloggers doing all of the national parks. I’m not going to go into all the stupid because it gives me a headache. Somehow they found out about Big Adventure. I’ve since looked at theirs and it is nice looking and Thang 1 and Thang 2 are gorgeous people. If I had to say only one thing bad it is that almost every picture on their site are selfies of some type. Mostly it is just hey here is proof we’ve been there. Lotsa night hotels and lodges too so a completely different blog type and style. There’s room enough for everyone so what the frick?
Apparently there isn’t room enough, in their eyes. And they have gotten in trouble numerous times at other parks going into restricted areas, going off trail, climbing on stuff they shouldn’t climb on, proof they were taking stuff from the parks they shouldn’t instead of “take only pictures, leave only footprints.” They also aren’t shy about complaining about staff and personnel and facilities. They also aren’t shy about starting fights out in social media land but I pretty much have the blog and that’s it. And the company that I fork over the money to to handle online reputation stuff put the kibosh on them in that area and also managed to get T’d off at them and did a little payback which I didn’t know about until I talked to someone tonight in customer service.
Don’t ask me how but they figured out who we were and yeah, they were the bozos that called the Border Patrol down on me. Which I really want to kick their tail for, but I agreed to play nice and allow the LEOs to handle it for filing a false report. And again I didn’t really have to compromise all that much, the rangers were really just confirming my identity and trying to avoid, as they called it, bad press. In exchange, they keep Benny and I out of it except for a deposition. One of the rangers, a lawyer in his previous life, said what would probably happen is that they would plead out and avoid a trial thereby my deposition wouldn’t be a thing for me to deal with.
I was ready to get gone but then they surprised me by wanting to make a fuss over Benny who’d stayed on the floor and quiet through the entire jackhole show.
“Uh …” I didn’t know how to respond.
“Tell you what, if you and Little Bear are up for it there is a ranger-led hike about to start. It goes to Hot Spring and the trail has just reopened after some trail repair. It’s a three hour commitment but if he completes the trail he’ll earn his Junior Ranger certificate, the badge, and a patch.” Yep, I got puppy dog eyes. Not to mention it was the trail I was coming back to camp to do anyway.
“We don’t really make a production out of things.”
The man smiled. “Even better. I just want the families to see it is possible to take their kids on more than the nature trail and the overlooks.” I agreed which is kinda the point of the Big Adventures blog.
The Hot Springs Historic Trail starts with a steep rocky incline before leveling off. There’s really no shade and I was glad that both Benny and I packed a good bit of water. We also packed a couple of small microfiber towels and I’ll explain why shortly. I was also glad we were doing the hike in November, summer would be brutal to hike this trail at almost any time of day.
The trail was easy to follow for the most part. However, there were times when it seemed to disappear into the brush, and it was at those times I was happy to have the ranger leading the way. He’d stop on occasion and rebuild a cairn for other hikers to follow.
“Unfortunately some of the people that cross the border do not respect the hiking and trail signs. Some have even been caught purposefully changing trail signs, so just be aware. If you suspect that a sign has been vandalized, please report it to the nearest ranger.”
Once we’d gotten up the trail the views became much better. We could see the Hot Springs Canyon in the foreground and the Sierra del Carmen mountains of Mexico in the distance. At around one hour into the hike, we got our first real glimpse of the Rio Grande River snaking its way along the US—Mexico border. The ranger kinda stated the obvious when he said we were getting closer to the hot springs.
Soon after, we arrived at a boulder-strewn section of the trail. I passed some fresh poop on the rocks, hoping it wasn’t from a mountain lion. There had been signs at the visitor center that one had recently been sighted.
It wasn’t immediately clear where the trail went next, and the ranger gave everyone a minute to try and find it themselves. Benny and I spotted it right away, but we’d had lots of practice at that sort of thing. The cairn blended in a little too well to the boulders, almost like an optical illusion.
Once we’d solved that problem, we headed on with the ranger encouraging everyone to drink their water, not to try and ration it. Not long after, we passed a sign indicating the hot springs were only 0.25 miles away, a big relief for most of the group after 90 minutes of desert hiking.
As we descended to the level of the Rio Grande River in that last quarter-mile, the rocky terrain turned to sand until we reached the hot springs. They were tiny! We lucked out and the water was clear, it is normally silty or muddy after rains cause the hot springs to flood.
There were no changing rooms or facilities, but most of us came prepared and simply shimmied out of our hiking gear. I put my feet in to test the temp and it was fine so Benny could climb in with me. It was odd to see a group of Mexicans cooking tamales. When they saw the ranger with us they grabbed their stuff and left. Apparently they try to sell things to people who come to the hot springs and stop for a while. While we took the 15 to 20 minute break in the springs, the ranger explained the history of the place.
The hot springs of Big Bend have long been a focal point for tourists and travelers in the desert. But these hot mineral waters represent more than just a destination for visitors to the National Park. For J.O. Langford and his family, they represented health, business and home. And for several decades in the early 20th century, the hot springs were also the center of a desert community. In 1909, J.O. Langford was sitting in the lobby of the Alpine Hotel when he overheard someone discussing the miraculous healing properties of the hot springs in the Big Bend country. Another person might have been skeptical of claims that the mineral water could cure any disease, but Langford had been ill since contracting malaria as a child, and had been looking for relief from his pains and sickness ever since. In fact, he was so interested in these springs that he immediately set out to purchase the land surrounding them, down in a remote, lonely country that he’d never even laid eyes on.
Langford set out two weeks later with his pregnant wife Bessie and their young daughter Lovie, and traveled for ten days before finally reaching their new home on the Rio Grande. Regaining his health was a priority, so as soon as they arrived, Langford began his treatment: For 21 days, he drank and bathed in the mineral water of the spring, which at its source reaches 105 degrees, and soon he felt healthier and stronger than ever. Langford recognized the value of the springs and he immediately set up a business. He built a bathhouse and developed his land into a desert health resort. Word-of-mouth recommendations soon brought people from across the country to find health at the springs, and many claimed to have been cured of skin diseases, rheumatism, stomach troubles, and chronic pain.
Unfortunately, border troubles related to the Mexican Revolution forced the Langfords to abandon their home not long after they had built it. Bands of raiders terrorizing small villages throughout Mexico were pushing further north and crossing the Rio Grande, and many people in the area fled to less turbulent territory. The Langfords moved to El Paso, where they lived for 14 years.
They were finally able to return in 1927. The increasing availability of automobiles and improved roads meant more people were able to come and bathe in the springs. Langford rebuilt his bathhouse and added a store, post office, and motor court to accommodate the growing number of visitors. Because the Hot Springs had the closest post office for many miles, the area became a major center for the widespread community of farmers and homesteaders. People traveled for almost a hundred miles on either side of the border to retrieve their mail from the Hot Springs Post Office, and brought with them many things to sell and trade at the community market that soon developed there. The mailman even built himself a small house to live in part of the week during his frequent trips down from Alpine.
Langford and his family lived and prospered in the Hot Springs area until 1942, at which time he sold the land to the state of Texas. The purchase was made in hopes of one day protecting the area, and two years later, Big Bend National Park was established. While the buildings have been abandoned since the 1950s, they still stand as a reminder of the community they once supported. To this day, you can visit the remains of the general store and motor court. A walk just a quarter mile down the river will bring you to what is left of the main bathhouse, and you too can relax and soak in what J.O. Langford and many other West Texans considered to be healing waters.[1]
I was surprised at how shallow the river was though the ranger said that can change quickly and significantly when it rains. We dried off the best we could, and I made sure that Benny rinsed any sand out of sensitive places. We dried quickly in the desert environment, but a few people had wished they rinsed off better before we finished the hike.
One of the things the ranger told us to watch out for were rattlers. Ugh. We didn’t see any but we did see where a snake of some type has slithered through the sand along the trail. I tell you, for it only to be a 5.5 mile hike I felt like I was earning my supper. I’m pretty sure everyone else felt the same way. Even Benny’s stomach gave a grumble at one point, prompting me to hand him a gluten-free trail mix bar.
Because I didn’t think we’d have time for it on any other day, we used another thirty minutes of our day to walk the Rio Grande Village Nature Trail. It was barely a mile and had we been there in another season we could have seen a lot of wildflowers
TODAY’S SURVIVAL SKILL: a repeat of yesterday’s security issues to make sure the are reinforced. Also, reviewed “stranger danger” precautions.
I was happy to use the hook ups to make sure that Benny and I both had good showers after being in the river. I had on place that had chaffed on the hike back from the hot springs. I took care of it with ye ol’ butt cream. Benny had a place between his toes that was a little raw and I took care of that right away as well.
Dinner was a little carb heavy … gluten-free spaghetti and meat balls … and it didn’t take Benny any time at all to crash and burn for the night. I’m not far from him though I’m still sucking on some ice-cold mineral water. Tomorrow we are moving to the Chisos Basin Area. We’ve got a full day of hiking if things cooperate. As soon as I fix our snacks for tomorrow and get the overnight oatmeal perking along in the thermos I’ll put one more dab of cream where it will do some good and then see if I can sleep without worrying about the stuff I can’t do anything about right now.
[1] Hot Water, Health, & History (U.S. National Park Service)
I made some effort with breakfast today. I made Egg and Bacon Muffins using Gluten-Free Bisquick. To that I added a health breakfast smoothie. Both Benny and I were supercharged and ready to start the day.
Today we explored the Rio Grande area of the park. I made sure all our water containers were filled before leaving camp, made sure the camp hosts knew we’d be back before dark so we wouldn’t lose our spot, and then set off for our first activity of the day which was a Rio Grande Overlook. Only 0.2 miles there and back from the parking area, but it was still worth the stop because it offered scenic views of the river that I’d seen and heard about in so many of the cowboy movies I watched with Dad.
Got a little warm-up trail action at Boquillas Canyon Trail. It was a 1.2 mile there and back trail and boy was it busy first thing I the morning. But it was okay because it featured a river as a distraction to the crowds. The people were all nice until we ran into a Border Patrol group. My looks were held against me, and we were stopped and asked for identification and proof of Benny’s identification as well. Just to be on the safe side I even gave them the blog address to prove our history together. They warmed back up after I provided proof of Benny’s identity but also admitted they wouldn’t see his likeness on the blog and why. They called it in. Apparently someone had called us in … another hiker most likely … out an abundance of caution or something similar. Sure. They could have just stopped me and asked me. I might have told them they were full of crap and getting in business that was none of theirs, but … okay, so maybe I have standing face that isn’t too friendly when I’m not paying attention to it. But they still coulda stopped and asked me themselves.
Apparently kid trafficking is getting really bad again despite no more anchor kids or being able to use them to get asylum or any other excuse. I will say I went from shook to a little PO’d at their initial approach. I get it. I do. But I didn’t like how they’d almost upset Benny. But that is the reality of life along the border. I’d just never run into it in quite that way before. I don’t want to seem like I have double standards – rules for thee, not for me. I need to stay situationally aware, and maybe hide my background and ability to speak Spanish a little more, and be less free with our facts. Stupid to have forgotten that.
The next trail was our biggie for the day. Strawhouse Trail is a 7-mile lightly trafficked out and back trail. I picked it as it was supposed to offer the chance to see wildlife without being difficult. Part of me wondered about getting so far from the van given the safety concerns but I did what I could and the trailhead parking area has a ranger parked there so I took a chance. So far so good.
Hmmm … how to describe this trail. Desert-y? Desert-ish? I don’t know but desert certainly is the place to start. Seven miles of it. I like sand as much as the next Florida girl but geez. Actually the trail wasn’t bad but it just was … desert. And where it wasn’t desert it was dry sandstone looming over us but providing no shade. And weird echoes. And the heebies. I kept waiting for Indians or Outlaws to pop out. Maybe I do have an imagination … and over active one. And not seeing one other single solitary person on the trail with us. I don’t think that has ever happened before. Three hours of it. As Benny so eloquently put it … “Weird Aunt Gus, real weird.”
Getting back to the parking lot and finding a “check in with a ranger” note on the van windshield did not help. It was a good thing that we were heading back to our camp for the night to park and do a little more hiking. I pulled into our space and grabbed a couple liters of water and then decided to walk to the visitor center and find out what the frick was going on.
“Hi. This note was left on my van while we were out hiking.”
“Oh … uh … let me get … someone.”
I was thinking uh oh.
A man comes up looking all official and asks me to come to a conference room, that Benny could wait with the other ranger.
“Uh sorry. First, not following anyone anywhere alone, especially not a man someone, and I’m not being separated from my nephew.”
“So he is your nephew.”
I just looked at him. He turned and said, “Melinda, could you come with?”
Melinda was an older woman that reminded me of Meemo, including the “damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead” look in her eyes. Then she looked at the other ranger with an “I told you so” look. To me she said, “We’re just trying to avert some problems.”
“Not averting at the moment.”
She chuckled. “The problems aren’t yours, we have an issue with someone overstaying their welcome. Unfortunately you just got caught up in it and now Admin figured out who you are and they are trying to avoid some bad press.”
“Explain the who and we’ll figure out the what and what not afterwards. Personally I don’t like drama and trouble … especially drama. As a matter of fact I detest drama so let’s figure out how to avoid it.”
I might have been turning it into more than it was but honestly … another blogger thinks whut? You know how some people get ahead by stepping on and over other people? Well there was this Mr. and Miss Thang (name withheld to protect the innocent, and if not innocent at least sane) that thought they were the only bloggers doing all of the national parks. I’m not going to go into all the stupid because it gives me a headache. Somehow they found out about Big Adventure. I’ve since looked at theirs and it is nice looking and Thang 1 and Thang 2 are gorgeous people. If I had to say only one thing bad it is that almost every picture on their site are selfies of some type. Mostly it is just hey here is proof we’ve been there. Lotsa night hotels and lodges too so a completely different blog type and style. There’s room enough for everyone so what the frick?
Apparently there isn’t room enough, in their eyes. And they have gotten in trouble numerous times at other parks going into restricted areas, going off trail, climbing on stuff they shouldn’t climb on, proof they were taking stuff from the parks they shouldn’t instead of “take only pictures, leave only footprints.” They also aren’t shy about complaining about staff and personnel and facilities. They also aren’t shy about starting fights out in social media land but I pretty much have the blog and that’s it. And the company that I fork over the money to to handle online reputation stuff put the kibosh on them in that area and also managed to get T’d off at them and did a little payback which I didn’t know about until I talked to someone tonight in customer service.
Don’t ask me how but they figured out who we were and yeah, they were the bozos that called the Border Patrol down on me. Which I really want to kick their tail for, but I agreed to play nice and allow the LEOs to handle it for filing a false report. And again I didn’t really have to compromise all that much, the rangers were really just confirming my identity and trying to avoid, as they called it, bad press. In exchange, they keep Benny and I out of it except for a deposition. One of the rangers, a lawyer in his previous life, said what would probably happen is that they would plead out and avoid a trial thereby my deposition wouldn’t be a thing for me to deal with.
I was ready to get gone but then they surprised me by wanting to make a fuss over Benny who’d stayed on the floor and quiet through the entire jackhole show.
“Uh …” I didn’t know how to respond.
“Tell you what, if you and Little Bear are up for it there is a ranger-led hike about to start. It goes to Hot Spring and the trail has just reopened after some trail repair. It’s a three hour commitment but if he completes the trail he’ll earn his Junior Ranger certificate, the badge, and a patch.” Yep, I got puppy dog eyes. Not to mention it was the trail I was coming back to camp to do anyway.
“We don’t really make a production out of things.”
The man smiled. “Even better. I just want the families to see it is possible to take their kids on more than the nature trail and the overlooks.” I agreed which is kinda the point of the Big Adventures blog.
The Hot Springs Historic Trail starts with a steep rocky incline before leveling off. There’s really no shade and I was glad that both Benny and I packed a good bit of water. We also packed a couple of small microfiber towels and I’ll explain why shortly. I was also glad we were doing the hike in November, summer would be brutal to hike this trail at almost any time of day.
The trail was easy to follow for the most part. However, there were times when it seemed to disappear into the brush, and it was at those times I was happy to have the ranger leading the way. He’d stop on occasion and rebuild a cairn for other hikers to follow.
“Unfortunately some of the people that cross the border do not respect the hiking and trail signs. Some have even been caught purposefully changing trail signs, so just be aware. If you suspect that a sign has been vandalized, please report it to the nearest ranger.”
Once we’d gotten up the trail the views became much better. We could see the Hot Springs Canyon in the foreground and the Sierra del Carmen mountains of Mexico in the distance. At around one hour into the hike, we got our first real glimpse of the Rio Grande River snaking its way along the US—Mexico border. The ranger kinda stated the obvious when he said we were getting closer to the hot springs.
Soon after, we arrived at a boulder-strewn section of the trail. I passed some fresh poop on the rocks, hoping it wasn’t from a mountain lion. There had been signs at the visitor center that one had recently been sighted.
It wasn’t immediately clear where the trail went next, and the ranger gave everyone a minute to try and find it themselves. Benny and I spotted it right away, but we’d had lots of practice at that sort of thing. The cairn blended in a little too well to the boulders, almost like an optical illusion.
Once we’d solved that problem, we headed on with the ranger encouraging everyone to drink their water, not to try and ration it. Not long after, we passed a sign indicating the hot springs were only 0.25 miles away, a big relief for most of the group after 90 minutes of desert hiking.
As we descended to the level of the Rio Grande River in that last quarter-mile, the rocky terrain turned to sand until we reached the hot springs. They were tiny! We lucked out and the water was clear, it is normally silty or muddy after rains cause the hot springs to flood.
There were no changing rooms or facilities, but most of us came prepared and simply shimmied out of our hiking gear. I put my feet in to test the temp and it was fine so Benny could climb in with me. It was odd to see a group of Mexicans cooking tamales. When they saw the ranger with us they grabbed their stuff and left. Apparently they try to sell things to people who come to the hot springs and stop for a while. While we took the 15 to 20 minute break in the springs, the ranger explained the history of the place.
The hot springs of Big Bend have long been a focal point for tourists and travelers in the desert. But these hot mineral waters represent more than just a destination for visitors to the National Park. For J.O. Langford and his family, they represented health, business and home. And for several decades in the early 20th century, the hot springs were also the center of a desert community. In 1909, J.O. Langford was sitting in the lobby of the Alpine Hotel when he overheard someone discussing the miraculous healing properties of the hot springs in the Big Bend country. Another person might have been skeptical of claims that the mineral water could cure any disease, but Langford had been ill since contracting malaria as a child, and had been looking for relief from his pains and sickness ever since. In fact, he was so interested in these springs that he immediately set out to purchase the land surrounding them, down in a remote, lonely country that he’d never even laid eyes on.
Langford set out two weeks later with his pregnant wife Bessie and their young daughter Lovie, and traveled for ten days before finally reaching their new home on the Rio Grande. Regaining his health was a priority, so as soon as they arrived, Langford began his treatment: For 21 days, he drank and bathed in the mineral water of the spring, which at its source reaches 105 degrees, and soon he felt healthier and stronger than ever. Langford recognized the value of the springs and he immediately set up a business. He built a bathhouse and developed his land into a desert health resort. Word-of-mouth recommendations soon brought people from across the country to find health at the springs, and many claimed to have been cured of skin diseases, rheumatism, stomach troubles, and chronic pain.
Unfortunately, border troubles related to the Mexican Revolution forced the Langfords to abandon their home not long after they had built it. Bands of raiders terrorizing small villages throughout Mexico were pushing further north and crossing the Rio Grande, and many people in the area fled to less turbulent territory. The Langfords moved to El Paso, where they lived for 14 years.
They were finally able to return in 1927. The increasing availability of automobiles and improved roads meant more people were able to come and bathe in the springs. Langford rebuilt his bathhouse and added a store, post office, and motor court to accommodate the growing number of visitors. Because the Hot Springs had the closest post office for many miles, the area became a major center for the widespread community of farmers and homesteaders. People traveled for almost a hundred miles on either side of the border to retrieve their mail from the Hot Springs Post Office, and brought with them many things to sell and trade at the community market that soon developed there. The mailman even built himself a small house to live in part of the week during his frequent trips down from Alpine.
Langford and his family lived and prospered in the Hot Springs area until 1942, at which time he sold the land to the state of Texas. The purchase was made in hopes of one day protecting the area, and two years later, Big Bend National Park was established. While the buildings have been abandoned since the 1950s, they still stand as a reminder of the community they once supported. To this day, you can visit the remains of the general store and motor court. A walk just a quarter mile down the river will bring you to what is left of the main bathhouse, and you too can relax and soak in what J.O. Langford and many other West Texans considered to be healing waters.[1]
I was surprised at how shallow the river was though the ranger said that can change quickly and significantly when it rains. We dried off the best we could, and I made sure that Benny rinsed any sand out of sensitive places. We dried quickly in the desert environment, but a few people had wished they rinsed off better before we finished the hike.
One of the things the ranger told us to watch out for were rattlers. Ugh. We didn’t see any but we did see where a snake of some type has slithered through the sand along the trail. I tell you, for it only to be a 5.5 mile hike I felt like I was earning my supper. I’m pretty sure everyone else felt the same way. Even Benny’s stomach gave a grumble at one point, prompting me to hand him a gluten-free trail mix bar.
Because I didn’t think we’d have time for it on any other day, we used another thirty minutes of our day to walk the Rio Grande Village Nature Trail. It was barely a mile and had we been there in another season we could have seen a lot of wildflowers
TODAY’S SURVIVAL SKILL: a repeat of yesterday’s security issues to make sure the are reinforced. Also, reviewed “stranger danger” precautions.
I was happy to use the hook ups to make sure that Benny and I both had good showers after being in the river. I had on place that had chaffed on the hike back from the hot springs. I took care of it with ye ol’ butt cream. Benny had a place between his toes that was a little raw and I took care of that right away as well.
Dinner was a little carb heavy … gluten-free spaghetti and meat balls … and it didn’t take Benny any time at all to crash and burn for the night. I’m not far from him though I’m still sucking on some ice-cold mineral water. Tomorrow we are moving to the Chisos Basin Area. We’ve got a full day of hiking if things cooperate. As soon as I fix our snacks for tomorrow and get the overnight oatmeal perking along in the thermos I’ll put one more dab of cream where it will do some good and then see if I can sleep without worrying about the stuff I can’t do anything about right now.
[1] Hot Water, Health, & History (U.S. National Park Service)
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Your pictures are just amazing!
Some are mine and some I find on the 'net. I can't take credit for all of them. A bunch of mine are pre-digital age so, while I am getting them scanned, they aren't always as good as the one we've taken in the last decade or so.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Another thank you from me.
We were in Big Bend back in '92. Enjoyed it except for being six months pregnant and the javelinas from hell. LOL
The illegals were bad back then, can't imagine what they are like these days. Don't have as much time to adventure as we used to but I still like to read other people's experiences. That list of rules that I put on the first "day" for Big Bend is what the national park service now publishes for Big Bend. And yes, you can get arrested for buying stuff from illegals on this side of the border.
October 6th – Chisos Basin Area
Benny and I have been hiking fools today. We started by leaving our campsite very early though we’ll be back in a couple of days. We were trucking along just fine until we reached the Chisos Basin Road. Whoa. We almost couldn’t get to the area. The road isn’t recommended for trailers over 20’ or RVs over 24’. We came in just under and man I was happy about that. How I missed the road restrictions I don’t know. I didn’t even notice it on the park map. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I have got to be more careful. I know stress has my dyslexia and APD acting up worse than normal but that’s no excuse, it is only more reason I should have been careful. Ah well, nothing irretrievably broken so I should count it a win.
Just to be on the safe side the first place we stopped was the Chisos Basin Visitor Center to check trail conditions and look at the exhibits. It was going to get to 91F today so everyone was being advised to take extra water on any and all outdoor activities. There was a separate stamp for our National Park passport book as well, so I made sure to get that before leaving as well.
First hike of the day was the Lost Mine Trail, a crowded 4.8 mile there and back that took us two hours to complete. I did say crowded and mean it. It was considerably different than our other hikes in Big Bend thus far. Even the colors were different.
I was anxious to do this trail because my early research said that it is perhaps the most important hike to undertake if you only have a day to spend in Big Bend. In hindsight I’m not sure I would go that far but it is certainly up there. That also explains why the trail was so busy even though it was early in the day. The trail isn’t all that long, but it certainly is better than just walking to an overlook. There’s even an interpretive guide at the trailhead for the plants, animals and geological formations seen in Big Bend and it's not too far from the main park ranger station or the Chisos Basin Lodge rooms.
While the first part of the hike starts with gentle slopes, the later part of the hike gets steep and the overall elevation change is a thousand feet, so while it is rated moderate it is certainly no walk in the park. As we hiked, on the right were fantastic views of Casa Grande Peak, a famous Texas mountain. The waypoint marked "Lookout" was a great place to take our first break. There were several rock outcroppings to sit on and enjoy views of Juniper Canyon leading to the south as well as evidence of the fine line between desert shrub and forest in the Big Bend. Towards the west was a ridge. On the south side of the ridge was sparse shrub land is in contrast with the thicker forested slope of the north side.
The terrain after the Lookout got steeper, particularly once the switchbacks showed up. Our next waypoint was "Big Rock". It was a stocky rock spire that jutted out of the mountain and marked the point where the switchbacks stopped. The climbing wasn’t over however; just things weren’t quite as steep.
There are some real idiots in the world. There was a crowd standing around “observing” a rattler that was sunning itself on one of the switchbacks. Their “observing” was a little close for Mr. Rattler and he was attempting, as politely as a rattler can, to explain to those folks that they were making him upset. I couldn’t help it.
“Honestly people, are you brain damaged? Leave the snake alone before he decides to really get pissy and strike at one of you. Medical assistance is not exactly two doors over to come to the rescue.”
I T’d off the folks “observing” but I heard a few other hikers chuckle and a couple of guys a little older than me laugh outright. I mean honestly, was the heat frying their commonsense? I wasn’t trying to be funny, but people are just so darn stupid.
I found out later that snake bites in the park aren’t that common, like one ever five years or so. Still, that looked like another one in the making and since I didn’t have my snake venom extractor with me this time, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having to play first aider.
Our next waypoint was “Alt Peak”. From a distance you think it is the top of the trail. Nope. But it is where the trail becomes relatively treeless heading towards the final peak. A few hikers act like they are dying or something at this point and give up. If they did it would be a shame because the final people is not much farther and only slightly higher.
I’d been kinda busy up to that point. The trail was crowded and somewhat steep. I decided to take a short break so give Benny some recovery time – we were hiking quite a bit today – and read the trail brochure I’d picked up at the trailhead.
Lost Mine trail got its name from a legend that suggests that a secret mine existed in the area. Workers were blindfolded before being brought to the mine to work. Thus, they could not disclose the location of the mine. Legend says all the workers were killed by local Comanche and the mine closed up to hide its location. Sounds like the plot of an old cowboy movie.
While the name of the hike was the Lost Mine Trail you don’t actually get to the top of Lost Mine Peak. You can see the trail's namesake to your left as you progress towards the unnamed peak at the end of the trail. The waypoint "Peak" marked the location of a real peak. The trail ended as the rock juts abruptly upward to a point. We’d reached the end.
The peak provided an excellent place at which to rest, grab a snack, and enjoy the views. Once we were finished and Benny took pictures with Little Bear and Gus the Pelican, it was time to head back down. And I do mean down. For all the up going up, the opposite was true heading back to the trailhead.
I was about to get in the van after making sure that Benny was belted in when someone said primly, “What you said was very rude.”
I turned and there was a girl, maybe a little older than me, standing there with a couple of friends to back her up in her moral superiority. I responded, “And the people that were standing less than four feet from an irritated rattler were very stupid. They were crowding and surrounding that snake and it had no place to retreat to even if so inclined. It was long enough that it could have easily crossed that distance if it decided to strike.”
“That’s not the point. You were unnecessarily rude.”
“And they were being unnecessarily stupid.”
I wasn’t fighting and I think my oh so reasonable tone of voice was throwing them off of their debate stride. They must have thought I was going to be nasty and create a fight so they could “prove” I was a loser. Nope. I was simply restating the obvious. They were lucky all I had called them was brain damaged and stupid.
They got the picture that I wasn’t budging or willing to act the fool for their pleasure and flounced off deriding my behavior and pedigree. Oh well.
“Aunt Gus, how come you told them people they were being stupid? We see people being stupid all the time and don’t tell them stuff like that.”
I gave it a thought. “Well, I guess I just didn’t want the day ruined. Had a snake bitten one of them I would have been honor bound to help which would have messed up our plans for the day. And I suppose … I just didn’t feel like seeing someone get hurt even if it would have been a just consequence of their choices.”
“Oh. So sometimes it is okay to tell someone they are acting stupid?”
Oh boy. “Er … sometimes. Just let me do the telling until you are grown up. ‘K?”
“Okay. I don’t want to talk to stupid people anyway.”
“Hmmmm … they might not have been stupid people. They were just acting stupid right then and there. There’s a difference though it isn’t always easy to tell it.”
Geez, the conversation you can have with a kid. But in one respect Benny reminded me of something I should have already known … keep my nose out of other people’s business even when they look like they are playing in the middle of a busy highway. I don’t like people in my business, I should watch my own actions. And in a bid to be transparent and set a better example I explained that to Benny as we headed to our next hike.
Basin Loop Trail was a 2.4-mile loop that was marked easy, and in my opinion was easy except for having to watch more stupid people going hiking without enough water. I had to donate one of our bottles to a family who had a little girl about Benny’s age that looked like she was about to have heat stroke. Kids that are red-faced and puking need to be gotten out of the sun and cooled down asap. Luckily we ran into them not too far from the trailhead. We were going, they were returning. When we finished the trail, there was nothing about a little kid needing medical attention so I’ve decided to think the best.
The trailhead began at the waypoint marked "Trailhead" on our map. Not what you would call creative naming but it worked for me. The large wooden sign there points in various directions to the trails that originate from this point. The trail we wanted headed to the southwest, mostly following the contour of the land, so the going was fairly easy.
The trail largely consisted of gravel and packed dirt with some rocky sections. There weren’t many places where you needed to make choices about turns and forks in the trail. One of them was at the first waypoint marked "Y-Left" at the westernmost point in the hike. These intersections typically have metal signs with directions punched out of them. People might wonder why something so fancy compared to other parks but I found out why. The punched-out letters are difficult to deface and fairly rugged when it comes to the weather. Even out in the freaking boonies apparently illegals and drug traffickers like to screw around with the signs … and the hikers that need the signs.
Despite being close to the Chisos Mountain Lodge there are plenty of plants and animals to observe. The Century Plants reminded me of some of the same type that grow in Florida. And while we didn’t see one … thank you Creator … a Mountain Lion had been spotted near, but not exactly on, the trail.
The first noticeable elevation gain occurs after the first "Y-Left" waypoint. While mild, the climb certainly could take it out of you. There is no real break from the climbing. At the second "Y-Left" waypoint the climb continues and then there is a steep section right before the waypoint "Employee Housing". There are steps cut into the slope on the left side if the trail is wet or too step to get good purchase on with your hikers. Eventually the trail looped back and it was a short distance back to the trailhead and the Chisos Mountain Lodge.
We didn’t really take a break since it was just a few steps to the next trailhead. Window View Trail was a short, half-mile loop that a lot of people go to for sunset. That wasn’t my plan, and a good thing too after what happened later. Benny’s Junior Ranger booklet said to keep our eyes peeled for the rare gem called the Colima warbler … a bird, insert eye roll here. It is a small, brown-ish or gray-ish bird with a patch of orange near the base of its tail feathers. In the summer months, this bird can only be found in the upper elevations of the canyons in the Chisos Mountains and not anywhere else in the entire world. It lays its nests on the ground and is often spotted foraging in thick undergrowth or around the lower levels of oak trees. We think we saw one but I can’t say for sure. We took a picture, but it was too far away and we didn’t want to scare it in the heat.
Our last hike of the day I wish we had made the first. It wasn’t just the elevation gain … 1600 feet … it was that we could have hiked all the way to the Rim. I thought there might be an opportunity but no way was I going to do that to my Little Bear. It was still more than warm even a little after lunch time which is when we started this one. I packed a lot of water and had Benny wear his camelback and an extra liter of water in his pack as well. All but one in my pack was frozen but they didn’t stay that way long, even wrapped inside a small cooler I normally use when we are packing a full meal.
Laguna Meadow Trail is a 7.8 mile there and back trail that started not too far from the Chisos Visitor Center. The fall blooms made this a butterfly garden walk. After all the “desert” it was a drastic bit of strange.
Right from the start you go up. Not vertical but you don’t stop going up until you stop and come down. We should have started this in the morning, but we didn’t so dealt with things being the way they were … hot and bright. Sunglasses and hats were not just a suggestion but a necessity. Same for high SPF waterproof sunscreen.
Saw a few rattlers but they weren’t directly on the trail, so I gave them a wide berth. We also saw a few deer which was cool since they didn’t freak out at the humans, mostly flicked their ears and tails keeping an eye on us. And the prickly pear was ripe. People used to pick them and eat them in camp but they are now off-limits as they are one of the main food sources for some of the animals in the area. That was obvious as there were lots of seeded piles of digested poo. Thankfully we didn’t find any with our hikers, but we did see plenty. I’m glad I had us change into hiking pants before starting as well because of the sun and the thorny brush and cactus that hung into the narrower sections of the trail.
The climb was via switchbacks the entire way up. It took us two and a half hours going up and a little less than two coming back down. Let’s call it four and a half hours to do a nearly eight-mile hike. That wasn’t terrible by any stretch but we weren’t just gamboling along either.
The trail map I had listed a few waypoints but they weren’t always easy to match up with descriptions. For instance, there is no sign but when you get to about 3.75 miles, you are at the highest vantage point of the trail. We could have kept going but I knew the trek down was going to take some time and I didn’t completely want to wear Benny out. We took breaks but it still takes it out of you. Other hikers told us that we wouldn’t get any better views either since we weren’t going all the way to the Rim trail. I saw it on some postcards and it makes me wish we had but I was dealing with reality, not wishful thinking. The trail is used mostly as a connector trail … to the back country campsites, to Mt. Emory, to the Pinnacles trail, but mostly to the Rim trail. Hikers told us Pinnacles was a lot steeper and we picked the correct one for the climb.
Coming back down the trail we got a heck of a surprise. A big, black bear. And I’m not talking about one of Benny’s stuffies. We spotted it first and then the group of hikers behind us also did a quick stop. The consensus was to make some racket so La Mujer Gorda … it was a female bear according to the other hikers … wouldn’t get startled. Startled? The bear? Fine. But I was still picking Benny up and putting him on my shoulders.
The bear turned too look at us, dropped some scat on the trail in response, and then lumbered off and away from us. Nasty. Benny thought it was funny. I told him if I ever caught him conversing with a bear even close to his size there would be some serious consequences. I don’t know what it is about bears. Yes, I gave Benny his nickname but real live bears just kinda freak me out for some reason. Not even sharks bother me that way.
Benny and I have been hiking fools today. We started by leaving our campsite very early though we’ll be back in a couple of days. We were trucking along just fine until we reached the Chisos Basin Road. Whoa. We almost couldn’t get to the area. The road isn’t recommended for trailers over 20’ or RVs over 24’. We came in just under and man I was happy about that. How I missed the road restrictions I don’t know. I didn’t even notice it on the park map. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I have got to be more careful. I know stress has my dyslexia and APD acting up worse than normal but that’s no excuse, it is only more reason I should have been careful. Ah well, nothing irretrievably broken so I should count it a win.
Just to be on the safe side the first place we stopped was the Chisos Basin Visitor Center to check trail conditions and look at the exhibits. It was going to get to 91F today so everyone was being advised to take extra water on any and all outdoor activities. There was a separate stamp for our National Park passport book as well, so I made sure to get that before leaving as well.
First hike of the day was the Lost Mine Trail, a crowded 4.8 mile there and back that took us two hours to complete. I did say crowded and mean it. It was considerably different than our other hikes in Big Bend thus far. Even the colors were different.
I was anxious to do this trail because my early research said that it is perhaps the most important hike to undertake if you only have a day to spend in Big Bend. In hindsight I’m not sure I would go that far but it is certainly up there. That also explains why the trail was so busy even though it was early in the day. The trail isn’t all that long, but it certainly is better than just walking to an overlook. There’s even an interpretive guide at the trailhead for the plants, animals and geological formations seen in Big Bend and it's not too far from the main park ranger station or the Chisos Basin Lodge rooms.
While the first part of the hike starts with gentle slopes, the later part of the hike gets steep and the overall elevation change is a thousand feet, so while it is rated moderate it is certainly no walk in the park. As we hiked, on the right were fantastic views of Casa Grande Peak, a famous Texas mountain. The waypoint marked "Lookout" was a great place to take our first break. There were several rock outcroppings to sit on and enjoy views of Juniper Canyon leading to the south as well as evidence of the fine line between desert shrub and forest in the Big Bend. Towards the west was a ridge. On the south side of the ridge was sparse shrub land is in contrast with the thicker forested slope of the north side.
The terrain after the Lookout got steeper, particularly once the switchbacks showed up. Our next waypoint was "Big Rock". It was a stocky rock spire that jutted out of the mountain and marked the point where the switchbacks stopped. The climbing wasn’t over however; just things weren’t quite as steep.
There are some real idiots in the world. There was a crowd standing around “observing” a rattler that was sunning itself on one of the switchbacks. Their “observing” was a little close for Mr. Rattler and he was attempting, as politely as a rattler can, to explain to those folks that they were making him upset. I couldn’t help it.
“Honestly people, are you brain damaged? Leave the snake alone before he decides to really get pissy and strike at one of you. Medical assistance is not exactly two doors over to come to the rescue.”
I T’d off the folks “observing” but I heard a few other hikers chuckle and a couple of guys a little older than me laugh outright. I mean honestly, was the heat frying their commonsense? I wasn’t trying to be funny, but people are just so darn stupid.
I found out later that snake bites in the park aren’t that common, like one ever five years or so. Still, that looked like another one in the making and since I didn’t have my snake venom extractor with me this time, I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having to play first aider.
Our next waypoint was “Alt Peak”. From a distance you think it is the top of the trail. Nope. But it is where the trail becomes relatively treeless heading towards the final peak. A few hikers act like they are dying or something at this point and give up. If they did it would be a shame because the final people is not much farther and only slightly higher.
I’d been kinda busy up to that point. The trail was crowded and somewhat steep. I decided to take a short break so give Benny some recovery time – we were hiking quite a bit today – and read the trail brochure I’d picked up at the trailhead.
Lost Mine trail got its name from a legend that suggests that a secret mine existed in the area. Workers were blindfolded before being brought to the mine to work. Thus, they could not disclose the location of the mine. Legend says all the workers were killed by local Comanche and the mine closed up to hide its location. Sounds like the plot of an old cowboy movie.
While the name of the hike was the Lost Mine Trail you don’t actually get to the top of Lost Mine Peak. You can see the trail's namesake to your left as you progress towards the unnamed peak at the end of the trail. The waypoint "Peak" marked the location of a real peak. The trail ended as the rock juts abruptly upward to a point. We’d reached the end.
The peak provided an excellent place at which to rest, grab a snack, and enjoy the views. Once we were finished and Benny took pictures with Little Bear and Gus the Pelican, it was time to head back down. And I do mean down. For all the up going up, the opposite was true heading back to the trailhead.
I was about to get in the van after making sure that Benny was belted in when someone said primly, “What you said was very rude.”
I turned and there was a girl, maybe a little older than me, standing there with a couple of friends to back her up in her moral superiority. I responded, “And the people that were standing less than four feet from an irritated rattler were very stupid. They were crowding and surrounding that snake and it had no place to retreat to even if so inclined. It was long enough that it could have easily crossed that distance if it decided to strike.”
“That’s not the point. You were unnecessarily rude.”
“And they were being unnecessarily stupid.”
I wasn’t fighting and I think my oh so reasonable tone of voice was throwing them off of their debate stride. They must have thought I was going to be nasty and create a fight so they could “prove” I was a loser. Nope. I was simply restating the obvious. They were lucky all I had called them was brain damaged and stupid.
They got the picture that I wasn’t budging or willing to act the fool for their pleasure and flounced off deriding my behavior and pedigree. Oh well.
“Aunt Gus, how come you told them people they were being stupid? We see people being stupid all the time and don’t tell them stuff like that.”
I gave it a thought. “Well, I guess I just didn’t want the day ruined. Had a snake bitten one of them I would have been honor bound to help which would have messed up our plans for the day. And I suppose … I just didn’t feel like seeing someone get hurt even if it would have been a just consequence of their choices.”
“Oh. So sometimes it is okay to tell someone they are acting stupid?”
Oh boy. “Er … sometimes. Just let me do the telling until you are grown up. ‘K?”
“Okay. I don’t want to talk to stupid people anyway.”
“Hmmmm … they might not have been stupid people. They were just acting stupid right then and there. There’s a difference though it isn’t always easy to tell it.”
Geez, the conversation you can have with a kid. But in one respect Benny reminded me of something I should have already known … keep my nose out of other people’s business even when they look like they are playing in the middle of a busy highway. I don’t like people in my business, I should watch my own actions. And in a bid to be transparent and set a better example I explained that to Benny as we headed to our next hike.
Basin Loop Trail was a 2.4-mile loop that was marked easy, and in my opinion was easy except for having to watch more stupid people going hiking without enough water. I had to donate one of our bottles to a family who had a little girl about Benny’s age that looked like she was about to have heat stroke. Kids that are red-faced and puking need to be gotten out of the sun and cooled down asap. Luckily we ran into them not too far from the trailhead. We were going, they were returning. When we finished the trail, there was nothing about a little kid needing medical attention so I’ve decided to think the best.
The trailhead began at the waypoint marked "Trailhead" on our map. Not what you would call creative naming but it worked for me. The large wooden sign there points in various directions to the trails that originate from this point. The trail we wanted headed to the southwest, mostly following the contour of the land, so the going was fairly easy.
The trail largely consisted of gravel and packed dirt with some rocky sections. There weren’t many places where you needed to make choices about turns and forks in the trail. One of them was at the first waypoint marked "Y-Left" at the westernmost point in the hike. These intersections typically have metal signs with directions punched out of them. People might wonder why something so fancy compared to other parks but I found out why. The punched-out letters are difficult to deface and fairly rugged when it comes to the weather. Even out in the freaking boonies apparently illegals and drug traffickers like to screw around with the signs … and the hikers that need the signs.
Despite being close to the Chisos Mountain Lodge there are plenty of plants and animals to observe. The Century Plants reminded me of some of the same type that grow in Florida. And while we didn’t see one … thank you Creator … a Mountain Lion had been spotted near, but not exactly on, the trail.
The first noticeable elevation gain occurs after the first "Y-Left" waypoint. While mild, the climb certainly could take it out of you. There is no real break from the climbing. At the second "Y-Left" waypoint the climb continues and then there is a steep section right before the waypoint "Employee Housing". There are steps cut into the slope on the left side if the trail is wet or too step to get good purchase on with your hikers. Eventually the trail looped back and it was a short distance back to the trailhead and the Chisos Mountain Lodge.
We didn’t really take a break since it was just a few steps to the next trailhead. Window View Trail was a short, half-mile loop that a lot of people go to for sunset. That wasn’t my plan, and a good thing too after what happened later. Benny’s Junior Ranger booklet said to keep our eyes peeled for the rare gem called the Colima warbler … a bird, insert eye roll here. It is a small, brown-ish or gray-ish bird with a patch of orange near the base of its tail feathers. In the summer months, this bird can only be found in the upper elevations of the canyons in the Chisos Mountains and not anywhere else in the entire world. It lays its nests on the ground and is often spotted foraging in thick undergrowth or around the lower levels of oak trees. We think we saw one but I can’t say for sure. We took a picture, but it was too far away and we didn’t want to scare it in the heat.
Our last hike of the day I wish we had made the first. It wasn’t just the elevation gain … 1600 feet … it was that we could have hiked all the way to the Rim. I thought there might be an opportunity but no way was I going to do that to my Little Bear. It was still more than warm even a little after lunch time which is when we started this one. I packed a lot of water and had Benny wear his camelback and an extra liter of water in his pack as well. All but one in my pack was frozen but they didn’t stay that way long, even wrapped inside a small cooler I normally use when we are packing a full meal.
Laguna Meadow Trail is a 7.8 mile there and back trail that started not too far from the Chisos Visitor Center. The fall blooms made this a butterfly garden walk. After all the “desert” it was a drastic bit of strange.
Right from the start you go up. Not vertical but you don’t stop going up until you stop and come down. We should have started this in the morning, but we didn’t so dealt with things being the way they were … hot and bright. Sunglasses and hats were not just a suggestion but a necessity. Same for high SPF waterproof sunscreen.
Saw a few rattlers but they weren’t directly on the trail, so I gave them a wide berth. We also saw a few deer which was cool since they didn’t freak out at the humans, mostly flicked their ears and tails keeping an eye on us. And the prickly pear was ripe. People used to pick them and eat them in camp but they are now off-limits as they are one of the main food sources for some of the animals in the area. That was obvious as there were lots of seeded piles of digested poo. Thankfully we didn’t find any with our hikers, but we did see plenty. I’m glad I had us change into hiking pants before starting as well because of the sun and the thorny brush and cactus that hung into the narrower sections of the trail.
The climb was via switchbacks the entire way up. It took us two and a half hours going up and a little less than two coming back down. Let’s call it four and a half hours to do a nearly eight-mile hike. That wasn’t terrible by any stretch but we weren’t just gamboling along either.
The trail map I had listed a few waypoints but they weren’t always easy to match up with descriptions. For instance, there is no sign but when you get to about 3.75 miles, you are at the highest vantage point of the trail. We could have kept going but I knew the trek down was going to take some time and I didn’t completely want to wear Benny out. We took breaks but it still takes it out of you. Other hikers told us that we wouldn’t get any better views either since we weren’t going all the way to the Rim trail. I saw it on some postcards and it makes me wish we had but I was dealing with reality, not wishful thinking. The trail is used mostly as a connector trail … to the back country campsites, to Mt. Emory, to the Pinnacles trail, but mostly to the Rim trail. Hikers told us Pinnacles was a lot steeper and we picked the correct one for the climb.
Coming back down the trail we got a heck of a surprise. A big, black bear. And I’m not talking about one of Benny’s stuffies. We spotted it first and then the group of hikers behind us also did a quick stop. The consensus was to make some racket so La Mujer Gorda … it was a female bear according to the other hikers … wouldn’t get startled. Startled? The bear? Fine. But I was still picking Benny up and putting him on my shoulders.
The bear turned too look at us, dropped some scat on the trail in response, and then lumbered off and away from us. Nasty. Benny thought it was funny. I told him if I ever caught him conversing with a bear even close to his size there would be some serious consequences. I don’t know what it is about bears. Yes, I gave Benny his nickname but real live bears just kinda freak me out for some reason. Not even sharks bother me that way.
October 6th (part 2)
And speaking of “surprises” of the unpleasant kind I came back to find my van had been booted. What in the heck?! I walked to the visitor center and face first into a mess. Short story is that one set of rangers does not listen to another set of rangers, that some people are oversized donkey’s behinds, and Border Patrol agents are just as at risk for being used as someone’s tool of choice as cops used to be when getting “swatted” was a thing.
Longer answer is that someone had turned in “proof” in the form of a photo of “me” trading off a kid to some sketchy characters that may or may not have been drug runners. Of course I knew it wasn’t me as soon as they showed me the picture.
I was more than a little bent out of shape that it took over an hour to talk them into showing me their “proof.” Good thing I had all the names and stuff from the other rangers I’d already gone through this with and they were happy to share the info on the false report. The rangers at Chisos were looking a little chagrined so I’ll give them that. Even the border patrol agents had given up growling. But when I saw the picture I nearly went ballistic.
“One, I don’t run around in a sports bra and shorts. Damn stoooopid thing to do in the desert with a bunch of cactus waiting to smack you around. Two, you will never catch me dead in that color pink. I’d rather be covered if fish guts and used as chum. Three, that’s not me and I can prove it. Just don’t blame me if you need eye bleach.”
The woman in the photo did look a little like me from the back except for the clothes and one other major thing. I turned to the agents and pulled my shirt up exposing my back.
“That chick doesn’t have this scar. When I was eight I was screwing around near my house and rolling around on the ground. I rolled into a fire ant pile.”
“Ants did that?!”
I pulled my shirt back down and turned around. “I repeat ‘fire ants.’ Plus a couple of the puss bumps got infected so yeah. I don’t as a general rule go parading the scar out for everyone to see. It looks like a giant parasite took a chunk out of me … like that an episode of that old show X Files. And as you can see, even with a tan-thru shirt on, it looks different from the skin around it. I was gonna tatoo over it at some point but I’ve had a few skin artists tell me that I wouldn’t do anything but make it more noticeable, not less.” After a second I said, “Could that photo be staged?”
“Excuse me?”
“That kid and that woman look enough like us that maybe it is just a coincidence but that kid is shorter than Benny by several inches. But they got the hair color right. And if I had to guess I’m taller than that chick too … and less curvy. I’m not exactly flat as a pancake anymore but I bet they had to take the picture from behind because a front pic would make it more than obvious that isn’t me. They just didn’t know about the scar. They could have paid some of the Mexicans that were hanging around on the other side of the river to pose to make sure … aw geez, it sounds like the plot to a bad movie. Look, you wanna keep talking it out then I guess but at least let me call over and check in at the camp so we don’t lose our spot.”
A ranger picked that moment to make a quick call on his radio and I saw him try not to wince. I said, “You’re kidding me. Right?”
He cleared his throat and said, “Let me see what I can do.”
I flopped down in the chair and Benny did something he hadn’t done in a while and crawled into my lap. “Hey Buddy, everything is okay.”
He looked like he wanted to say something but then just grabbed his backpack and held onto it. Uh oh. Melt down approaching. Carlsbad had only happened a couple of days ago and Benny was old enough to figure out some of what they were talking about … and worry about being separated from me. I carefully stood up and started walking around with him latched onto me. The agents didn’t particularly care for that but I managed to scribble out a barely legible, “Gold Star Family. PTSD. Give some space.”
One of the agents left the room while the other two kept a watch on me. When he came back a few minutes later he had a bottle of apple juice. And yeah, when I opened it I listened to the top to make sure it was new and not tampered with. It took a moment but I got Benny to take a couple of swallows but he was still shaking but at least I felt I could sit down. He held the juice but had to be prompted to drink it.
I was trying not to lose my temper. Benny feeds off me so when he gets like this I know for his sake, and mine, I have to stay calm. When a fourth agent entered the room I felt Benny tense while I forced myself not to.
“Ms. Barrymore, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I’d like to say it was a simple mistake but …”
Trying to channel Grandma Barry and sounding more like Grandfather I said, “I take it the same stooges that tried to pull some crap yesterday overindulged in stupid pills today.”
The man smiled and tried to use humore to diffuse the situation by saying, “Let’s just say they took an entire month’s prescription in one go. They are now in custody and will not be bothering you again.”
I could have spewed a bunch but all I let fall out was, “Thank you.”
“As for your night’s accommodation, there is vacancy at the Chisos lodge, a late cancellation. The room is yours if you want it.”
“How much?”
“Don’t worry about that. Why don’t you take Little Man there and go wash up. Something from the lodge restaurant will be sent to the room.”
“Uh …”
“Gluten-free.” I looked a question at him and he said, “It is in your file.”
“My … file?”
He just smiled and nodded. “Your file.”
Yeeeezus. The guy looked like an older Captain America but he reminded me more of a Brannigan or McQ without John Wayne’s charm. My opinion or not, I couldn’t really turn the room down without looking like a … unflattering word Grandma Barry wouldn’t have approved of.
Benny wouldn’t be put down. Would. Not. I had to carry him all the way to the van … yes that had unbooted it … and then peel him off me so that I could get us in it and then to our assigned parking space. Then he was on me again and I had to carry him and his bag o’ crew and a bag that I threw some clothes into for both of us with our ditty bags. And I grabbed my electronics bag as well.
The room was very Motel 6 but I’m not complaining. A bed is a bed at this point in the story. Benny was like an automaton while I got him washed up and into his night clothes. He almost wouldn’t give me any privacy to take my own shower but I managed it, just barely. Trying to dry off was interesting.
I put him on the king-sized bed (the only bed in the room) and then nearly cussed when I realized I hadn’t brought in cups or anything else, including the organic chamomile tea that I sometimes use when Benny has a bad day. I hadn’t even resorted to it after Carlsbad but I knew I would need to do something this time. Then there was a loud knock at the door and Benny nearly shrieked and would have if his teeth weren’t locked together. It was like having a limpet mine attached to my back when I answered the door.
“Ms. Barrymore?”
“Yes.”
“Agent Brockwell said with his compliments and that he’d have a letter for you when you check out in the morning.”
“Thank you.”
"Er … we were out of regular tea and coffee for your breakfast tray. Is peppermint or chamomile okay? Or decaf?”
The idea of decaf made me want to hurl so I said, “The tea is fine.”
The guy smiled in relief and handed me a cardboard box. “There’s pan seared trout with pineapple mango salsa served with wild rice and veggies, and a buffalo burger hold the bun with French fries, a wedge salad, and … oh yea! … there’s two root beer floats you should put in the freezer.” He then handed me a drink carrier that held the two melting root beer floats and two large Styrofoam cups, one with rootbeer and one with 7Up.
He trotted off quickly after that. That’s when I looked around and saw the miniature frig and microscopic microwave. The micro in the van was bigger than what was sitting on top of the frig. I knew Benny wasn’t ready to eat and frankly neither was I though I was willing to suck on the rootbeer when I found another bottle of apple juice, that one sparkling, that I thought I could get Benny to sip on.
I didn’t like how quiet Benny was being so after dealing with the food I peeled him off my back and sat on the bed with him and forced him to talk it out. He shed a few tears but was calming down and was at least willing to try and eat a few bites. He preferred the trout to the burger so we split everything and as soon as he started eating he did well. He ate a small bit of the burger, about half the fish, all of the fries, split the wedge salad with me, and slurped down what remained of his root beer float. He wanted to crash and burn after that but couldn’t let himself rest enough to go all the way to sleep. And any time I moved his eyes popped wide open.
I swear the Creator must be paying particular attention to us because with the chamomile tea they brought for the “breakfast tray” I was able to make him a little lukewarm tea and that finally got him relaxed enough he could go to sleep and stay that way.
Now I’m really needing to sleep but having a hard time. I’m on the bed beside my Little Bear and filling out this log entry but I really wish that I’d thought to bring in one of my caffeine waters. I’m going to try a little meditation over medication and see if I can wind down enough to sleep as well.
There is some kind of coupon for the breakfast here at the lodge and I might just take them up on it depending on how Benny is. I’m hoping he sleeps this off but he was pretty foggy there for a while.
Our camp for tomorrow is small (22 spaces) and primitive (no hook ups, trucked in potable water, pit toilets). I’m going to have us hiking on trails that are moderately to lightly trafficked. I hope getting out of this area will help Benny break his “cycle” and move forward.
And now just for my own sanity I am going to admit something. This is starting to feel like we are moving backwards. Back to the days after Lawrence didn’t come home, Penny losing her crap and then making her decision, and trying to figure out what we were going to do. What I figured for us to do back then is coming to an end and I need to figure out the “next” this time. I just hope it isn’t all the way back to the beginning.
And speaking of “surprises” of the unpleasant kind I came back to find my van had been booted. What in the heck?! I walked to the visitor center and face first into a mess. Short story is that one set of rangers does not listen to another set of rangers, that some people are oversized donkey’s behinds, and Border Patrol agents are just as at risk for being used as someone’s tool of choice as cops used to be when getting “swatted” was a thing.
Longer answer is that someone had turned in “proof” in the form of a photo of “me” trading off a kid to some sketchy characters that may or may not have been drug runners. Of course I knew it wasn’t me as soon as they showed me the picture.
I was more than a little bent out of shape that it took over an hour to talk them into showing me their “proof.” Good thing I had all the names and stuff from the other rangers I’d already gone through this with and they were happy to share the info on the false report. The rangers at Chisos were looking a little chagrined so I’ll give them that. Even the border patrol agents had given up growling. But when I saw the picture I nearly went ballistic.
“One, I don’t run around in a sports bra and shorts. Damn stoooopid thing to do in the desert with a bunch of cactus waiting to smack you around. Two, you will never catch me dead in that color pink. I’d rather be covered if fish guts and used as chum. Three, that’s not me and I can prove it. Just don’t blame me if you need eye bleach.”
The woman in the photo did look a little like me from the back except for the clothes and one other major thing. I turned to the agents and pulled my shirt up exposing my back.
“That chick doesn’t have this scar. When I was eight I was screwing around near my house and rolling around on the ground. I rolled into a fire ant pile.”
“Ants did that?!”
I pulled my shirt back down and turned around. “I repeat ‘fire ants.’ Plus a couple of the puss bumps got infected so yeah. I don’t as a general rule go parading the scar out for everyone to see. It looks like a giant parasite took a chunk out of me … like that an episode of that old show X Files. And as you can see, even with a tan-thru shirt on, it looks different from the skin around it. I was gonna tatoo over it at some point but I’ve had a few skin artists tell me that I wouldn’t do anything but make it more noticeable, not less.” After a second I said, “Could that photo be staged?”
“Excuse me?”
“That kid and that woman look enough like us that maybe it is just a coincidence but that kid is shorter than Benny by several inches. But they got the hair color right. And if I had to guess I’m taller than that chick too … and less curvy. I’m not exactly flat as a pancake anymore but I bet they had to take the picture from behind because a front pic would make it more than obvious that isn’t me. They just didn’t know about the scar. They could have paid some of the Mexicans that were hanging around on the other side of the river to pose to make sure … aw geez, it sounds like the plot to a bad movie. Look, you wanna keep talking it out then I guess but at least let me call over and check in at the camp so we don’t lose our spot.”
A ranger picked that moment to make a quick call on his radio and I saw him try not to wince. I said, “You’re kidding me. Right?”
He cleared his throat and said, “Let me see what I can do.”
I flopped down in the chair and Benny did something he hadn’t done in a while and crawled into my lap. “Hey Buddy, everything is okay.”
He looked like he wanted to say something but then just grabbed his backpack and held onto it. Uh oh. Melt down approaching. Carlsbad had only happened a couple of days ago and Benny was old enough to figure out some of what they were talking about … and worry about being separated from me. I carefully stood up and started walking around with him latched onto me. The agents didn’t particularly care for that but I managed to scribble out a barely legible, “Gold Star Family. PTSD. Give some space.”
One of the agents left the room while the other two kept a watch on me. When he came back a few minutes later he had a bottle of apple juice. And yeah, when I opened it I listened to the top to make sure it was new and not tampered with. It took a moment but I got Benny to take a couple of swallows but he was still shaking but at least I felt I could sit down. He held the juice but had to be prompted to drink it.
I was trying not to lose my temper. Benny feeds off me so when he gets like this I know for his sake, and mine, I have to stay calm. When a fourth agent entered the room I felt Benny tense while I forced myself not to.
“Ms. Barrymore, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I’d like to say it was a simple mistake but …”
Trying to channel Grandma Barry and sounding more like Grandfather I said, “I take it the same stooges that tried to pull some crap yesterday overindulged in stupid pills today.”
The man smiled and tried to use humore to diffuse the situation by saying, “Let’s just say they took an entire month’s prescription in one go. They are now in custody and will not be bothering you again.”
I could have spewed a bunch but all I let fall out was, “Thank you.”
“As for your night’s accommodation, there is vacancy at the Chisos lodge, a late cancellation. The room is yours if you want it.”
“How much?”
“Don’t worry about that. Why don’t you take Little Man there and go wash up. Something from the lodge restaurant will be sent to the room.”
“Uh …”
“Gluten-free.” I looked a question at him and he said, “It is in your file.”
“My … file?”
He just smiled and nodded. “Your file.”
Yeeeezus. The guy looked like an older Captain America but he reminded me more of a Brannigan or McQ without John Wayne’s charm. My opinion or not, I couldn’t really turn the room down without looking like a … unflattering word Grandma Barry wouldn’t have approved of.
Benny wouldn’t be put down. Would. Not. I had to carry him all the way to the van … yes that had unbooted it … and then peel him off me so that I could get us in it and then to our assigned parking space. Then he was on me again and I had to carry him and his bag o’ crew and a bag that I threw some clothes into for both of us with our ditty bags. And I grabbed my electronics bag as well.
The room was very Motel 6 but I’m not complaining. A bed is a bed at this point in the story. Benny was like an automaton while I got him washed up and into his night clothes. He almost wouldn’t give me any privacy to take my own shower but I managed it, just barely. Trying to dry off was interesting.
I put him on the king-sized bed (the only bed in the room) and then nearly cussed when I realized I hadn’t brought in cups or anything else, including the organic chamomile tea that I sometimes use when Benny has a bad day. I hadn’t even resorted to it after Carlsbad but I knew I would need to do something this time. Then there was a loud knock at the door and Benny nearly shrieked and would have if his teeth weren’t locked together. It was like having a limpet mine attached to my back when I answered the door.
“Ms. Barrymore?”
“Yes.”
“Agent Brockwell said with his compliments and that he’d have a letter for you when you check out in the morning.”
“Thank you.”
"Er … we were out of regular tea and coffee for your breakfast tray. Is peppermint or chamomile okay? Or decaf?”
The idea of decaf made me want to hurl so I said, “The tea is fine.”
The guy smiled in relief and handed me a cardboard box. “There’s pan seared trout with pineapple mango salsa served with wild rice and veggies, and a buffalo burger hold the bun with French fries, a wedge salad, and … oh yea! … there’s two root beer floats you should put in the freezer.” He then handed me a drink carrier that held the two melting root beer floats and two large Styrofoam cups, one with rootbeer and one with 7Up.
He trotted off quickly after that. That’s when I looked around and saw the miniature frig and microscopic microwave. The micro in the van was bigger than what was sitting on top of the frig. I knew Benny wasn’t ready to eat and frankly neither was I though I was willing to suck on the rootbeer when I found another bottle of apple juice, that one sparkling, that I thought I could get Benny to sip on.
I didn’t like how quiet Benny was being so after dealing with the food I peeled him off my back and sat on the bed with him and forced him to talk it out. He shed a few tears but was calming down and was at least willing to try and eat a few bites. He preferred the trout to the burger so we split everything and as soon as he started eating he did well. He ate a small bit of the burger, about half the fish, all of the fries, split the wedge salad with me, and slurped down what remained of his root beer float. He wanted to crash and burn after that but couldn’t let himself rest enough to go all the way to sleep. And any time I moved his eyes popped wide open.
I swear the Creator must be paying particular attention to us because with the chamomile tea they brought for the “breakfast tray” I was able to make him a little lukewarm tea and that finally got him relaxed enough he could go to sleep and stay that way.
Now I’m really needing to sleep but having a hard time. I’m on the bed beside my Little Bear and filling out this log entry but I really wish that I’d thought to bring in one of my caffeine waters. I’m going to try a little meditation over medication and see if I can wind down enough to sleep as well.
There is some kind of coupon for the breakfast here at the lodge and I might just take them up on it depending on how Benny is. I’m hoping he sleeps this off but he was pretty foggy there for a while.
Our camp for tomorrow is small (22 spaces) and primitive (no hook ups, trucked in potable water, pit toilets). I’m going to have us hiking on trails that are moderately to lightly trafficked. I hope getting out of this area will help Benny break his “cycle” and move forward.
And now just for my own sanity I am going to admit something. This is starting to feel like we are moving backwards. Back to the days after Lawrence didn’t come home, Penny losing her crap and then making her decision, and trying to figure out what we were going to do. What I figured for us to do back then is coming to an end and I need to figure out the “next” this time. I just hope it isn’t all the way back to the beginning.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Big thank you, always need a chapter lol.
kyrsyan
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Yes. There are people who have inverse reactions to caffeine and others drugs. And yes, those people are typically ADD or ADHD, although I've seen it with others and not everyone with ADD/ADHD has it.
I have times when I have to do it but typically mine isn't brain hamster, it's when I'm excessively physically exhausted. I actually have to drink caffeine to give my body enough energy to sleep well. I don't understand why, just that it has to be done.
My son used to have all the inverse med reactions. Caffeine would crash him, benadryl would wire him, and don't ever give him red food dye. Right now one of his medications has actually helped and he reacts like "normal" people.
Lake Lili
Veteran Member
Yes. For a lot of neurodivergent people, caffine acts not a a stimulant but as a relaxant. I drink a lot of diet cola to help control the hyper and to bring me down to go to sleep. Works like a charm.
October 7th – Castolon Area (Part 1)
Woke up to an incredible story that put my personal worries in perspective. We were the first ones in line for breakfast in the lodge restaurant when I see all of the staff watching a TV over in the corner of the room. Then I hear the words, “Yellowstone is closed. The entire park.” I was like what the heck. Then there was news that there were people trapped inside the park and they can’t get out. How in the heck does a disaster close a park that is 2.2 million acres?
No, it’s not the Yellowstone Volcano. It isn’t a massive wildfire either; just the opposite. It’s Rain. As in RAIN. They are comparing it to the disaster that happened back in the early 20’s when all the entrance roads were flooded or washed out, particularly at the north entrance and that a lot of bridges and sewer systems in the park are also cataclysmically damaged.
Someone must have said we were coming and to treat us well. The guy who took us to a tabled said, “Gluten free, right?”
“Yes, please,” I answered trying real hard not to be weirded out and wondering if they knew about The File and if they did would they explain it to me.
We sat, got the menu, and quickly ordered Huevos Rancheros with hashbrowns. I kept one eye on the news and one eye on Benny. Benny was quiet but not bad. He was eating without being prompted at least. He was also sitting right next to me, not like barnacle but close. I wanted to mention Yellowstone to him, but I wasn’t sure, given how he was acting. I’d already packed up the room and cleaned up behind us so all I had to do was check out.
Trying to avoid any additional potential problems and just to be on the safe side, I took advantage of the fuel station they had in that area of the park. It was NOT cheap, but it would have been necessary at some point anyway. At least this way I was ahead of the curve somewhat.
We were heading to our first hike when Benny asked, “Do you think Yellowstone will be okay?”
Keeping it matter of fact I answered “Yeah. It is going to take a while to rebuild the roads and bridges, but it will happen.”
“What about the rangers and all the people? What about the animals and stuff like that?”
“Well, the news said that the park superintendent already has a plan. They are evacuating the people still in the park in sections and a lot of the areas have already been cleared. Mostly they are making sure that the staff that lives there year-round are located in safe housing and they are making sure that all the backcountry hikers and campers are accounted for. The Creator will look after the animals and closing the park might give them a break from us humans anyway.”
“So they are doing the search and rescue thing like you were going to do? Would you help people like that?”
Oh, so that’s where that was going. “Relax. I put all of that on hold until we figure out what we want in life. You don’t have to worry that I am going to leave you. ‘K?”
“What about one day?”
“One day …” I sighed trying not to feed off Benny’s emotions and have the trigger my own worries. Staying calm I explained, “Benny, right now I’m just trying to get us to the next day. Maybe that includes using my training. I don’t know. But no matter what I chose to do, it will never intentionally involve leaving you. What you have to remember is that one of these days you are going to grow up and you are the one that is going to …”
“No!”
“Ease up Little Bear. That’s a long time from now. You have time to decide what you want to do. But I never want to keep you from growing up and having a life. If I’m part of that life in some way then yehaw. But I’m not going to hold you back. I want you to be the best Benjamin Lawrence Barrymore that you can be. And maybe that means that you go off and have adventures on your own or with someone else special. If that happens, I will be cheering from the sideline only wanting you to be you.”
“We’ll be together forever. Aunt Gus and Little Bear’s Big Adventure. Forever,” he said forcefully.
I let it go. He is growing up but he doesn’t need to be pushed too fast. Life will happen soon enough. And for now it is my job to make sure life is such that he can handle it in an age appropriate way, or so said one of the better pediatric counselors we saw between Lawrence and Penny leaving his life. He’d been doing so well. The counselor said not to expect perfection, it wasn’t going to happen. He said not to expect Benny to always move forward in a straight line. If he moves forward most of the time that is great but “falling off the wagon” is part of life. It happens to all of us. The point is to find forward and return to moving that direction. I tried to remember that today when it felt like I was a long haired cat and Benny was static cling. It lessened as the day went on but he wanted to slip in my bed with me tonight and I had to remind him that the water bottles take up a lot of room and the Crew might not fit or understand why. It worked but it took everything in me to not let him in the bed. He’d stopped needing to co-sleep not long before we started Big Adventure. I didn’t want him to go back that far. Luckily he was wore out enough that he accepted it. Lucky for me I didn’t have to deal with manic elbows and knees all night.
Today we hiked in the Castolon Area of the park, southwest of Chisos. We had to drive back down Chisos Basin Road – ugh – and turn left on the main park road and then left on the road to Castolon. We started off with the Sam Nail Ranch Trail. It was very short and gave me the chance to see how Benny was going to do. At 0.3-miles and a lightly trafficked loop, I knew he wouldn’t get too hot or pale. Or shouldn’t. Sam and Nena Nail chose the spot to create their home in the desert. They dug a well, put in a garden, and built holding pens for horses, chickens, and a milk cow. Like other ranchers in the area, they ran stock and dealt with drought, predators, and isolation. The trail featured a river, and we were only on it about fifteen minutes. Benny seemed fine. A little over eager to be honest but nothing terribly unusual so I went on to the next hike on today’s list.
Ward Spring Trail was longer at 2.8 miles. There were also more people around but I wouldn’t say it was anywhere near crowded. It was also still early in the day. It took us about 90 minutes. We could have done it faster but I was still making sure about Benny. Again, he seemed fine and I began to relax. The trail had great scenery. There was also a spring area around a really weird geological feature called a volcanic dike. The spring had a lot of cottonwood trees growing around it and at this time of year they’ve mostly turned yellow. There are also willows close to the water preventing you from actually seeing the spring but the greenery lets you know its general location.
Amazingly enough there are a lot of these hidden springs in the Big Bend area. It is the only way the animals and humans have been able to live here the way they have. We also learned that some human animals use some of the springs to traffic people into the US so I was situationally aware.
This next is for both the Upper and Lower Burro Mesa Pouroff. The upper trail is 3.7 miles, and the lower trail is about a mile. To start we did the Upper Burro Mesa Pouroff. After a short climb over the hill out of the parking area, we wound up in a wash where we spent the rest of the hike walking downhill. Most of the time the trail was fairly easy to follow but occasionally, the wash will tumble over some rocks. We would climb down these tumbles but also had to keep an eye out for cairns that marked easier ways around.
The rock scrambling was fun and definitely at a level suitable for children Benny’s age and size. I kept an eye on him to make sure his balance was stable and again, no problems so I relaxed further. The last rock scramble was the largest but it was easy to scoot down; and also easy to climb back up. Then end of the trail was the biggest deal and gave the wow factor. It is a large cavern where the water from the wash gathers when it floods. You can see the smooth edges of the walls and just imagine how wild it must be when the wash is flowing heavily. You can walk right up to the edge of the waterfall. At least when we were there, the rocks were dry. I wouldn’t recommend doing gymnastic maneuvers on the edge, but it felt very safe to my cautious self.
The cliff drops about 100 feet at the pouroff, a funky name for a dry waterfall. The Lower Burro Mesa Pouroff trail is how you hike in from a different trailhead to get to the bottom. Hikers on the upper trail could wave at hikers on the lower trail. The lower burro hike is short, only about 1/2 a mile each way and even more accessible. It was definitely worth the drive around to hike the other direction and get the view up to what we’d just hiked. It was about a two and a half hour commitment to hike both trails but yeah, it was worth it.
Another super quick trail was the Homer Wilson Trail. It was a 0.7 mile out and back trail that only took us about twenty minutes. The Homer Wilson Blue Creek Ranch was established in 1929 and was one of the largest in Texas, comprising more than 28,000 acres — home to 4,000 sheep and 2,500 goats. The ranch was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1975.
It was a very cool destination type trail as you could go inside the old ranch house. It was abandoned in 1945, but what remains of the ranch house is more than enough to give Benny and I an idea of what ranch life must have been like in the days before the Big Bend National Park was established. The house was still in decent shape which surprised me. I guess the low humidity preserves things much better than the humidity of the Deep South. The house had a flagstone floor, high ceilings, a fireplace, and a covered porch. The park employees might do some regular repairs and maintenance but if they did, they weren’t noticeable. Luckily I didn’t notice any vandalism which is what I would have expected.
Hidden in the surrounding brush are the remains of a horse corral, a rainwater cistern, a dipping vat and chute for sheep and goats, and a few other leftovers of ranch life. It was like being inside a time capsule almost. All the place needed were people dressed in period clothing to make it complete. The barely half-mile back to the parking area was all uphill but you barely feel it.
There was an overlook I stopped at to take a short break between trails. Sotol Vista. Very cool. I keep saying stuff reminds me of the cowboy movies I watched with Dad, this one was no exception. You could see forever, or so it seemed. We were officially on the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive at that point. The Ross Maxwell route is named for Big Bend National Park’s first superintendent and geologist who served from 1944-1952. The reason why it was laid out in the route that it was is to highlight the more spectacular geologic features on the west side of the park, or so said a sign-thingie we read later in the day. One end of the road is in the Burro Mesa area, the turn off point to Castolon off the main park highway, and the other end is beyond the Castolon Visitor center at Santa Elena Canyon Overlook. It is officially thirty miles long and takes about an hour if you don’t do any stopping. We’ll we’ve been stopping [insert chuckle].
Benny’s appetite was back, I could hear his stomach growling, but he wasn’t asking. That put the worry back a bit. It means he is too worried or similar to ask for something. And in Benny-speak that usually means he is worried about being a problem that I might want to get rid of, which means leaving him. That is a leftover from all of his Penny/Mom issues and the Separation Anxiety diagnosis. I did what I could and just asked him if he was hungry and sure enough, “A little, but I can wait. I’m a big boy and won’t be a problem.” Two steps forward and one step back. Or maybe that is three and two. I swear I could just kick people in the teeth on some days.
We parked at our next trailhead and grabbed something light in the van … I threw together some wraps … and then I tossed un-melty type snacks in my pack and put some baby carrots in a bag for Benny to carry with him and eat as desired. And I told him that too.
“Won’t I spoil my dinner?”
“Little Bear, you are working hard. You need to fuel up to keep going. Carrots are healthy. And … I thought they were one of your favorites. I’d put some peanut butter in there too but the heat might turn it greasy and nasty. I guess if you don’t want …”
“No! I like baby carrots. I’ll try and not be noisy when I eat them.”
I chuckled for effect. “Are you kidding? Carrots are meant to be noisy when you eat them. And this way I don’t have to worry about not being able to find you. You can walk like a big kid but … you know … I’ll still know where you are just by using my ears.”
Slowly, slowly he grinned. Hopefully he will start feeling more secure. For his own mental health he needs to be able to walk without being a barnacle. And for my own mental health I need to make sure I let him. By handicapping him I’m handicapping myself and vice versa. This adulting crap sucks.
Woke up to an incredible story that put my personal worries in perspective. We were the first ones in line for breakfast in the lodge restaurant when I see all of the staff watching a TV over in the corner of the room. Then I hear the words, “Yellowstone is closed. The entire park.” I was like what the heck. Then there was news that there were people trapped inside the park and they can’t get out. How in the heck does a disaster close a park that is 2.2 million acres?
No, it’s not the Yellowstone Volcano. It isn’t a massive wildfire either; just the opposite. It’s Rain. As in RAIN. They are comparing it to the disaster that happened back in the early 20’s when all the entrance roads were flooded or washed out, particularly at the north entrance and that a lot of bridges and sewer systems in the park are also cataclysmically damaged.
Someone must have said we were coming and to treat us well. The guy who took us to a tabled said, “Gluten free, right?”
“Yes, please,” I answered trying real hard not to be weirded out and wondering if they knew about The File and if they did would they explain it to me.
We sat, got the menu, and quickly ordered Huevos Rancheros with hashbrowns. I kept one eye on the news and one eye on Benny. Benny was quiet but not bad. He was eating without being prompted at least. He was also sitting right next to me, not like barnacle but close. I wanted to mention Yellowstone to him, but I wasn’t sure, given how he was acting. I’d already packed up the room and cleaned up behind us so all I had to do was check out.
Trying to avoid any additional potential problems and just to be on the safe side, I took advantage of the fuel station they had in that area of the park. It was NOT cheap, but it would have been necessary at some point anyway. At least this way I was ahead of the curve somewhat.
We were heading to our first hike when Benny asked, “Do you think Yellowstone will be okay?”
Keeping it matter of fact I answered “Yeah. It is going to take a while to rebuild the roads and bridges, but it will happen.”
“What about the rangers and all the people? What about the animals and stuff like that?”
“Well, the news said that the park superintendent already has a plan. They are evacuating the people still in the park in sections and a lot of the areas have already been cleared. Mostly they are making sure that the staff that lives there year-round are located in safe housing and they are making sure that all the backcountry hikers and campers are accounted for. The Creator will look after the animals and closing the park might give them a break from us humans anyway.”
“So they are doing the search and rescue thing like you were going to do? Would you help people like that?”
Oh, so that’s where that was going. “Relax. I put all of that on hold until we figure out what we want in life. You don’t have to worry that I am going to leave you. ‘K?”
“What about one day?”
“One day …” I sighed trying not to feed off Benny’s emotions and have the trigger my own worries. Staying calm I explained, “Benny, right now I’m just trying to get us to the next day. Maybe that includes using my training. I don’t know. But no matter what I chose to do, it will never intentionally involve leaving you. What you have to remember is that one of these days you are going to grow up and you are the one that is going to …”
“No!”
“Ease up Little Bear. That’s a long time from now. You have time to decide what you want to do. But I never want to keep you from growing up and having a life. If I’m part of that life in some way then yehaw. But I’m not going to hold you back. I want you to be the best Benjamin Lawrence Barrymore that you can be. And maybe that means that you go off and have adventures on your own or with someone else special. If that happens, I will be cheering from the sideline only wanting you to be you.”
“We’ll be together forever. Aunt Gus and Little Bear’s Big Adventure. Forever,” he said forcefully.
I let it go. He is growing up but he doesn’t need to be pushed too fast. Life will happen soon enough. And for now it is my job to make sure life is such that he can handle it in an age appropriate way, or so said one of the better pediatric counselors we saw between Lawrence and Penny leaving his life. He’d been doing so well. The counselor said not to expect perfection, it wasn’t going to happen. He said not to expect Benny to always move forward in a straight line. If he moves forward most of the time that is great but “falling off the wagon” is part of life. It happens to all of us. The point is to find forward and return to moving that direction. I tried to remember that today when it felt like I was a long haired cat and Benny was static cling. It lessened as the day went on but he wanted to slip in my bed with me tonight and I had to remind him that the water bottles take up a lot of room and the Crew might not fit or understand why. It worked but it took everything in me to not let him in the bed. He’d stopped needing to co-sleep not long before we started Big Adventure. I didn’t want him to go back that far. Luckily he was wore out enough that he accepted it. Lucky for me I didn’t have to deal with manic elbows and knees all night.
Today we hiked in the Castolon Area of the park, southwest of Chisos. We had to drive back down Chisos Basin Road – ugh – and turn left on the main park road and then left on the road to Castolon. We started off with the Sam Nail Ranch Trail. It was very short and gave me the chance to see how Benny was going to do. At 0.3-miles and a lightly trafficked loop, I knew he wouldn’t get too hot or pale. Or shouldn’t. Sam and Nena Nail chose the spot to create their home in the desert. They dug a well, put in a garden, and built holding pens for horses, chickens, and a milk cow. Like other ranchers in the area, they ran stock and dealt with drought, predators, and isolation. The trail featured a river, and we were only on it about fifteen minutes. Benny seemed fine. A little over eager to be honest but nothing terribly unusual so I went on to the next hike on today’s list.
Ward Spring Trail was longer at 2.8 miles. There were also more people around but I wouldn’t say it was anywhere near crowded. It was also still early in the day. It took us about 90 minutes. We could have done it faster but I was still making sure about Benny. Again, he seemed fine and I began to relax. The trail had great scenery. There was also a spring area around a really weird geological feature called a volcanic dike. The spring had a lot of cottonwood trees growing around it and at this time of year they’ve mostly turned yellow. There are also willows close to the water preventing you from actually seeing the spring but the greenery lets you know its general location.
Amazingly enough there are a lot of these hidden springs in the Big Bend area. It is the only way the animals and humans have been able to live here the way they have. We also learned that some human animals use some of the springs to traffic people into the US so I was situationally aware.
This next is for both the Upper and Lower Burro Mesa Pouroff. The upper trail is 3.7 miles, and the lower trail is about a mile. To start we did the Upper Burro Mesa Pouroff. After a short climb over the hill out of the parking area, we wound up in a wash where we spent the rest of the hike walking downhill. Most of the time the trail was fairly easy to follow but occasionally, the wash will tumble over some rocks. We would climb down these tumbles but also had to keep an eye out for cairns that marked easier ways around.
The rock scrambling was fun and definitely at a level suitable for children Benny’s age and size. I kept an eye on him to make sure his balance was stable and again, no problems so I relaxed further. The last rock scramble was the largest but it was easy to scoot down; and also easy to climb back up. Then end of the trail was the biggest deal and gave the wow factor. It is a large cavern where the water from the wash gathers when it floods. You can see the smooth edges of the walls and just imagine how wild it must be when the wash is flowing heavily. You can walk right up to the edge of the waterfall. At least when we were there, the rocks were dry. I wouldn’t recommend doing gymnastic maneuvers on the edge, but it felt very safe to my cautious self.
The cliff drops about 100 feet at the pouroff, a funky name for a dry waterfall. The Lower Burro Mesa Pouroff trail is how you hike in from a different trailhead to get to the bottom. Hikers on the upper trail could wave at hikers on the lower trail. The lower burro hike is short, only about 1/2 a mile each way and even more accessible. It was definitely worth the drive around to hike the other direction and get the view up to what we’d just hiked. It was about a two and a half hour commitment to hike both trails but yeah, it was worth it.
Another super quick trail was the Homer Wilson Trail. It was a 0.7 mile out and back trail that only took us about twenty minutes. The Homer Wilson Blue Creek Ranch was established in 1929 and was one of the largest in Texas, comprising more than 28,000 acres — home to 4,000 sheep and 2,500 goats. The ranch was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1975.
It was a very cool destination type trail as you could go inside the old ranch house. It was abandoned in 1945, but what remains of the ranch house is more than enough to give Benny and I an idea of what ranch life must have been like in the days before the Big Bend National Park was established. The house was still in decent shape which surprised me. I guess the low humidity preserves things much better than the humidity of the Deep South. The house had a flagstone floor, high ceilings, a fireplace, and a covered porch. The park employees might do some regular repairs and maintenance but if they did, they weren’t noticeable. Luckily I didn’t notice any vandalism which is what I would have expected.
Hidden in the surrounding brush are the remains of a horse corral, a rainwater cistern, a dipping vat and chute for sheep and goats, and a few other leftovers of ranch life. It was like being inside a time capsule almost. All the place needed were people dressed in period clothing to make it complete. The barely half-mile back to the parking area was all uphill but you barely feel it.
There was an overlook I stopped at to take a short break between trails. Sotol Vista. Very cool. I keep saying stuff reminds me of the cowboy movies I watched with Dad, this one was no exception. You could see forever, or so it seemed. We were officially on the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive at that point. The Ross Maxwell route is named for Big Bend National Park’s first superintendent and geologist who served from 1944-1952. The reason why it was laid out in the route that it was is to highlight the more spectacular geologic features on the west side of the park, or so said a sign-thingie we read later in the day. One end of the road is in the Burro Mesa area, the turn off point to Castolon off the main park highway, and the other end is beyond the Castolon Visitor center at Santa Elena Canyon Overlook. It is officially thirty miles long and takes about an hour if you don’t do any stopping. We’ll we’ve been stopping [insert chuckle].
Benny’s appetite was back, I could hear his stomach growling, but he wasn’t asking. That put the worry back a bit. It means he is too worried or similar to ask for something. And in Benny-speak that usually means he is worried about being a problem that I might want to get rid of, which means leaving him. That is a leftover from all of his Penny/Mom issues and the Separation Anxiety diagnosis. I did what I could and just asked him if he was hungry and sure enough, “A little, but I can wait. I’m a big boy and won’t be a problem.” Two steps forward and one step back. Or maybe that is three and two. I swear I could just kick people in the teeth on some days.
We parked at our next trailhead and grabbed something light in the van … I threw together some wraps … and then I tossed un-melty type snacks in my pack and put some baby carrots in a bag for Benny to carry with him and eat as desired. And I told him that too.
“Won’t I spoil my dinner?”
“Little Bear, you are working hard. You need to fuel up to keep going. Carrots are healthy. And … I thought they were one of your favorites. I’d put some peanut butter in there too but the heat might turn it greasy and nasty. I guess if you don’t want …”
“No! I like baby carrots. I’ll try and not be noisy when I eat them.”
I chuckled for effect. “Are you kidding? Carrots are meant to be noisy when you eat them. And this way I don’t have to worry about not being able to find you. You can walk like a big kid but … you know … I’ll still know where you are just by using my ears.”
Slowly, slowly he grinned. Hopefully he will start feeling more secure. For his own mental health he needs to be able to walk without being a barnacle. And for my own mental health I need to make sure I let him. By handicapping him I’m handicapping myself and vice versa. This adulting crap sucks.
October 7th – Castolon Area (Part 2)
After eating and grabbing the to-go snacks we hike the Burro Spring Trail. It is a 2.4 mile out and back trail. I spotted someone running to the trailhead and tensed for an emergency but then I saw he was in joggers I said, “You like frying your brain by playing Speedy Gonzalez in this heat?”
The guy looked at me and I realized it was the delivery guy. He huffed and puffed but smiled. “Uh uh. I normally run earlier but I had a weird shift change this morning.”
“And your rides is …?”
He looked at his phone and said, “Coming. Had to stop and help change a bike tire.”
I noticed his water bottle was empty so reached in my pack and took a liter bottle out and handed it to him. He looked at me and said, “Sure you can spare?”
“Yeah. I need to get going with my nephew but grab a sit in the shade the van is making. If you are still here when we get back we’ll give you a lift.”
“Deal. And thanks,” he said as he opened the bottle of water and started drinking.
Dork. He should have just taken the day off from running. He should have known to bring more water than he did. Dork.
The trail was dusty, how the heck Delivery Guy could stand to run on it is a mystery. Only our floppy hats and sunglasses protected us. And the trail was unmarked but was visible on the ground so long as you paid attention. The cottonwoods in the distance marked our destination … the spring. And when we got there there was even a palm tree which looked very out of place. We didn’t stay long, just enough to take a few pictures. When we got back, little over an hour, I found a note stuck in the van’s door on a napkin from the Lodge’s restaurant. “Thanks! Ride showed.” Glad to know our good deed was appreciated.
We made a very short stop at the Mule Ears Overlook and Benny got such a kick out of figuring out why it was called mule ears that.
From there we headed to our longest hike of the day despite the heat which both Benny and I have acclimated to. It is hot but it isn’t hot and humid. In Florida we are still getting 80+ degree heat into November with all of the humidity to match. It was actually cooler in Key West than it was in north Florida. And with that thought I nearly stumbled into the hamster wheel but I shook myself free just in time. Benny needed me sharp so he could have his hamster day, I’m the grown up and will just deal with it another day. Or not. I keep thinking that I’ve got a line on a job only for them to come back and say they are in a “hiring freeze” until they assess the season or can get approval from the Permits Department to reopen, etc. etc. I never know what to believe but I’m thinking I am going to have to be in an in-face situation to find out for sure and hopefully be able to talk them into hiring me, even if it is just in a temp or seasonal way.
Chimneys Trail was a 4.6-mile, there and back trail. We had to backtrack on the road a bit when I realized I was at the wrong trailhead, but it wasn’t awful. I’d blame it on the dyslexia but the truth is closer to I wasn’t paying enough attention to the map and got things mixed up. The trail wasn’t very crowded, but I think that is because most people do this hike in the morning or late afternoon. Far off into the distance we could see the turnaround point for this hike; a row of rock outcroppings spread out across the desert floor. The Chimneys from this distance are overshadowed by Kit Mountain to the south.
The trail was harder to find and keep track of than some of the trails in the Chisos Mountains area, but once we knew what to look for it became easier going. The ground was rocky with compacted soil that showed a worn line that resembled the gutter lane at the bowling alley that I used to go to in high school with my friends. Pei could only bowl “two handed”. It was one of the silliest things to watch, but she almost always got a strike. With that “gutter lane” at each end of the trail, even if you got lost in the middle you could find your way back if you just paid attention.
From one direction the trail looks like it is going in a straight line but if you turn around you can see that you are going anyway except straight. It is a weird optical illusion.The trail progresses in what appears at times to be a straight line. Along the trail is prickly pear, ocotillo, and other types of cacti. The lack of moisture prevents plants from clustering too densely and there is a buffer of bare soil between them.
Another interesting feature on the trail is if you look out onto the horizon you can see ribbons of denser growth. These lines of plants and trees follow the paths of dry streams in the area. When it rains – and it does rain in the desert just not often – water fills the dry stream beds though it quickly disappears leaving behind the stream beds to be dry once again. The little bit of extra water that is directed is why some vegetation survives despite the environment.
As we continued west along the trail the Chimneys began to rise above the horizon. According to a sign-thingie, the Chimneys are a volcanic dike formation that was created within a fissure of rock beneath what was then the surface of the Earth. As the softer, more erosive rock around it weathered away the Chimneys were exposed. This distinctive formation served as a valuable point of reference for Indians who lived in the area for hundreds of years. As I am no geologist I’ll take their word for it.
Once the trail arrives at the Chimneys, smaller trails fan out between and around the sections of the formation. None of the trails are maintained and I wasn’t willing to drag Benny around all for the sake of an adventure. Native American tribes also consider the area important, evidenced by the pictographs that are carved on one of the flat stone surfaces of the southern-most spire. Benny and I gave the site the respect it deserved and made the place cleaner than we found it by catching and packing out a couple of Ziploc bags blowing around.
On the western side of the Chimneys sits a large rock that overhangs the remains of a small dwelling. The remains of the stone walls rise to about my waist. Inside the walls lay a couple of grinding stones. According to a Park Ranger the Native Americans once used this area for seasonal shelter. A nearby spring provided them with the water they needed.
It was time to head back and while the trailhead was all uphill, the slope of the land was gentle so it wasn’t strenuous. On the way back we ran into another rattler, thankfully I saw it before I stepped on it. Instinctively my reaction was to pick Benny up and take an extra wide hop as I was in mid stride when I noticed it right in the middle of the trail, it blended in just that well. Unfortunately I came down on a stone and it was sharp enough that I felt it all the way through the sole of my hiker. Ugh. I didn’t feel it much then but my instep is definitely bruised. My own fault and even the snake gave me a what-the-heck-are-you-looking-at glare before slither into the ocotillo.
When I got back to the van I checked my hiker and much to my displeasure the tread had a chunk missing out of it. I’m trying to rebuild it with some Shoe-Goo but I don’t know how much good it will do. Better than nothing I suppose but they are my newer/better pair. Sigh.
I called ahead to the Cottonwood Campground to check in and tell them that it was going to be later before we pulled in, please don’t give our site away. Not much humor on the other end of the line so they must have been busy.
We were going to hike to Mule Ear Spring, a 3.9 mile out and back trail, but Benny came back off of The Chimneys more sunburned than suntanned. Plus, the snake had also scared him a bit. Sure, he has talked it up like an adventure now, but then I could tell he was upset.
“You coulda been bit Aunt Gus!”
“Coulda been but wasn’t,” I told him. “We can coulda-shoulda-woulda ourselves crazy. It didn’t happen and just leave it at that.” Easier said than done. I don’t want to berate him for being scared or OCD. My hamster tries to take off at a sprint on occasion, causing me to worry about things I can’t control. I just need to find some way to teach him to not be as bad as I can get. I don’t want that for my Little Bear.
I distracted him by going straight to the Castolon Visitor Center. This time it worked. There we saw a bunch of exhibits and sign-thingies that taught us about the area. In the early 1900s, people began to live and farm along the banks of the Rio Grande, downstream from Santa Elena Canyon. The fields were fertile, and the community grew. Farmers in the area raised corn, beans, wheat, squash, tomatoes, and melons. In 1901, Cipriano Hernandez started the first store in the area and sold goods to his neighbors and to the mining community in Terlingua. He operated the store out of his home, which is today known as the Alvino House (named for Alvino Ybarra who lived there with his family from 1918 to 1957).
From about 1912 to 1920, revolution raged in Mexico. Many Mexican families moved north of the river to avoid the bloodshed and bandit raids. The raids, including the Glenn Springs raid in 1916, brought the U.S. military to defend the border. The National Guard established camps at Glenn Springs, La Noria (northeast of Rio Grande Village), Lajitas (west of the park), and Castolon (Camp Santa Helena). In response to a later revolution (the Escobar Rebellion of 1929), the Air Corps established a landing field at nearby Johnson's Ranch.
Camp Santa Helena, established in 1916, utilized troops from the 5th, 6th, and 8th cavalries. The men lived in tents and the construction of a permanent post began in 1919. By the time the buildings were completed in 1920, the Revolution was over, and the men were ordered to roll up their tents and take new assignments elsewhere. The new buildings were most likely never occupied by the soldiers. They included an enlisted mens' barrack, officers' and non-commissioned officers' quarters, a latrine, a granary and tack shed, and a stable (which burned sometime before 1933).
In 1921, the La Harmonia Company Store moved into the new barracks building and began its eighty-year history of serving as a frontier trading post (from 1918 to 1921, the store was located in "Old Castolon" accross from what is today Cottonwood Campground). The La Harmonia Company was also involved in farming and ranching. In the early 1920s, La Harmonia began farming cotton, a not-so-prosperous endeavor that continued for two decades. In 1961, the National Park Service acquired the La Harmonia Company holdings and began operating the store as a concession operation.[1]
In 2019 a fire that cross the Mexico border and the Rio Grande River caught the historical store structure on fire and it took years to rebuild and reopen it because of the Covid Pandemic of that time and the Great Recession and societal upheaval that followed it.
I considered doing a couple of things on tomorrow’s list but then decided against it. I decided we both needed a good night’s sleep. Also my foot was starting to call for attention. The Cottonwood campground only has 22 sites and we were lucky to get one of them, and only because I booked so far in advance. It was the “greenest” campground in the park, and I mean color not politics although that a bit as well. It was a dry camp … no water, no electric, pit toilets, etc. That meant no showers because I needed to use our fresh water tank for just in case tomorrow could be a problem. I didn’t suspect it but always try to be prepared. Tomorrow night it is supposed to be back to the RV park and all the hooks up we could need before leaving the park the next morning. At that point it is going to be a couple of days before we hit our next national park.
I wish there was something I could do to work on our plans for after Big Adventure but there’s nothing around here that I can even pull a signal from to boost. Maybe that is the Creators way of saying get some sleep and leave it to Me. Or maybe I am just running on hope/faith right now. It was Grandfather Barry of all people who taught me that sometimes you just need to let the sea take you. Maybe you’ll go to the top of the swell or maybe you’ll be dashed to the trough be either way, there are times all you can do is live through the storm and ride the waves.
[1] History of the Castolon Area - Big Bend National Park (U.S. National Park Service)
After eating and grabbing the to-go snacks we hike the Burro Spring Trail. It is a 2.4 mile out and back trail. I spotted someone running to the trailhead and tensed for an emergency but then I saw he was in joggers I said, “You like frying your brain by playing Speedy Gonzalez in this heat?”
The guy looked at me and I realized it was the delivery guy. He huffed and puffed but smiled. “Uh uh. I normally run earlier but I had a weird shift change this morning.”
“And your rides is …?”
He looked at his phone and said, “Coming. Had to stop and help change a bike tire.”
I noticed his water bottle was empty so reached in my pack and took a liter bottle out and handed it to him. He looked at me and said, “Sure you can spare?”
“Yeah. I need to get going with my nephew but grab a sit in the shade the van is making. If you are still here when we get back we’ll give you a lift.”
“Deal. And thanks,” he said as he opened the bottle of water and started drinking.
Dork. He should have just taken the day off from running. He should have known to bring more water than he did. Dork.
The trail was dusty, how the heck Delivery Guy could stand to run on it is a mystery. Only our floppy hats and sunglasses protected us. And the trail was unmarked but was visible on the ground so long as you paid attention. The cottonwoods in the distance marked our destination … the spring. And when we got there there was even a palm tree which looked very out of place. We didn’t stay long, just enough to take a few pictures. When we got back, little over an hour, I found a note stuck in the van’s door on a napkin from the Lodge’s restaurant. “Thanks! Ride showed.” Glad to know our good deed was appreciated.
We made a very short stop at the Mule Ears Overlook and Benny got such a kick out of figuring out why it was called mule ears that.
From there we headed to our longest hike of the day despite the heat which both Benny and I have acclimated to. It is hot but it isn’t hot and humid. In Florida we are still getting 80+ degree heat into November with all of the humidity to match. It was actually cooler in Key West than it was in north Florida. And with that thought I nearly stumbled into the hamster wheel but I shook myself free just in time. Benny needed me sharp so he could have his hamster day, I’m the grown up and will just deal with it another day. Or not. I keep thinking that I’ve got a line on a job only for them to come back and say they are in a “hiring freeze” until they assess the season or can get approval from the Permits Department to reopen, etc. etc. I never know what to believe but I’m thinking I am going to have to be in an in-face situation to find out for sure and hopefully be able to talk them into hiring me, even if it is just in a temp or seasonal way.
Chimneys Trail was a 4.6-mile, there and back trail. We had to backtrack on the road a bit when I realized I was at the wrong trailhead, but it wasn’t awful. I’d blame it on the dyslexia but the truth is closer to I wasn’t paying enough attention to the map and got things mixed up. The trail wasn’t very crowded, but I think that is because most people do this hike in the morning or late afternoon. Far off into the distance we could see the turnaround point for this hike; a row of rock outcroppings spread out across the desert floor. The Chimneys from this distance are overshadowed by Kit Mountain to the south.
The trail was harder to find and keep track of than some of the trails in the Chisos Mountains area, but once we knew what to look for it became easier going. The ground was rocky with compacted soil that showed a worn line that resembled the gutter lane at the bowling alley that I used to go to in high school with my friends. Pei could only bowl “two handed”. It was one of the silliest things to watch, but she almost always got a strike. With that “gutter lane” at each end of the trail, even if you got lost in the middle you could find your way back if you just paid attention.
From one direction the trail looks like it is going in a straight line but if you turn around you can see that you are going anyway except straight. It is a weird optical illusion.The trail progresses in what appears at times to be a straight line. Along the trail is prickly pear, ocotillo, and other types of cacti. The lack of moisture prevents plants from clustering too densely and there is a buffer of bare soil between them.
Another interesting feature on the trail is if you look out onto the horizon you can see ribbons of denser growth. These lines of plants and trees follow the paths of dry streams in the area. When it rains – and it does rain in the desert just not often – water fills the dry stream beds though it quickly disappears leaving behind the stream beds to be dry once again. The little bit of extra water that is directed is why some vegetation survives despite the environment.
As we continued west along the trail the Chimneys began to rise above the horizon. According to a sign-thingie, the Chimneys are a volcanic dike formation that was created within a fissure of rock beneath what was then the surface of the Earth. As the softer, more erosive rock around it weathered away the Chimneys were exposed. This distinctive formation served as a valuable point of reference for Indians who lived in the area for hundreds of years. As I am no geologist I’ll take their word for it.
Once the trail arrives at the Chimneys, smaller trails fan out between and around the sections of the formation. None of the trails are maintained and I wasn’t willing to drag Benny around all for the sake of an adventure. Native American tribes also consider the area important, evidenced by the pictographs that are carved on one of the flat stone surfaces of the southern-most spire. Benny and I gave the site the respect it deserved and made the place cleaner than we found it by catching and packing out a couple of Ziploc bags blowing around.
On the western side of the Chimneys sits a large rock that overhangs the remains of a small dwelling. The remains of the stone walls rise to about my waist. Inside the walls lay a couple of grinding stones. According to a Park Ranger the Native Americans once used this area for seasonal shelter. A nearby spring provided them with the water they needed.
It was time to head back and while the trailhead was all uphill, the slope of the land was gentle so it wasn’t strenuous. On the way back we ran into another rattler, thankfully I saw it before I stepped on it. Instinctively my reaction was to pick Benny up and take an extra wide hop as I was in mid stride when I noticed it right in the middle of the trail, it blended in just that well. Unfortunately I came down on a stone and it was sharp enough that I felt it all the way through the sole of my hiker. Ugh. I didn’t feel it much then but my instep is definitely bruised. My own fault and even the snake gave me a what-the-heck-are-you-looking-at glare before slither into the ocotillo.
When I got back to the van I checked my hiker and much to my displeasure the tread had a chunk missing out of it. I’m trying to rebuild it with some Shoe-Goo but I don’t know how much good it will do. Better than nothing I suppose but they are my newer/better pair. Sigh.
I called ahead to the Cottonwood Campground to check in and tell them that it was going to be later before we pulled in, please don’t give our site away. Not much humor on the other end of the line so they must have been busy.
We were going to hike to Mule Ear Spring, a 3.9 mile out and back trail, but Benny came back off of The Chimneys more sunburned than suntanned. Plus, the snake had also scared him a bit. Sure, he has talked it up like an adventure now, but then I could tell he was upset.
“You coulda been bit Aunt Gus!”
“Coulda been but wasn’t,” I told him. “We can coulda-shoulda-woulda ourselves crazy. It didn’t happen and just leave it at that.” Easier said than done. I don’t want to berate him for being scared or OCD. My hamster tries to take off at a sprint on occasion, causing me to worry about things I can’t control. I just need to find some way to teach him to not be as bad as I can get. I don’t want that for my Little Bear.
I distracted him by going straight to the Castolon Visitor Center. This time it worked. There we saw a bunch of exhibits and sign-thingies that taught us about the area. In the early 1900s, people began to live and farm along the banks of the Rio Grande, downstream from Santa Elena Canyon. The fields were fertile, and the community grew. Farmers in the area raised corn, beans, wheat, squash, tomatoes, and melons. In 1901, Cipriano Hernandez started the first store in the area and sold goods to his neighbors and to the mining community in Terlingua. He operated the store out of his home, which is today known as the Alvino House (named for Alvino Ybarra who lived there with his family from 1918 to 1957).
From about 1912 to 1920, revolution raged in Mexico. Many Mexican families moved north of the river to avoid the bloodshed and bandit raids. The raids, including the Glenn Springs raid in 1916, brought the U.S. military to defend the border. The National Guard established camps at Glenn Springs, La Noria (northeast of Rio Grande Village), Lajitas (west of the park), and Castolon (Camp Santa Helena). In response to a later revolution (the Escobar Rebellion of 1929), the Air Corps established a landing field at nearby Johnson's Ranch.
Camp Santa Helena, established in 1916, utilized troops from the 5th, 6th, and 8th cavalries. The men lived in tents and the construction of a permanent post began in 1919. By the time the buildings were completed in 1920, the Revolution was over, and the men were ordered to roll up their tents and take new assignments elsewhere. The new buildings were most likely never occupied by the soldiers. They included an enlisted mens' barrack, officers' and non-commissioned officers' quarters, a latrine, a granary and tack shed, and a stable (which burned sometime before 1933).
In 1921, the La Harmonia Company Store moved into the new barracks building and began its eighty-year history of serving as a frontier trading post (from 1918 to 1921, the store was located in "Old Castolon" accross from what is today Cottonwood Campground). The La Harmonia Company was also involved in farming and ranching. In the early 1920s, La Harmonia began farming cotton, a not-so-prosperous endeavor that continued for two decades. In 1961, the National Park Service acquired the La Harmonia Company holdings and began operating the store as a concession operation.[1]
In 2019 a fire that cross the Mexico border and the Rio Grande River caught the historical store structure on fire and it took years to rebuild and reopen it because of the Covid Pandemic of that time and the Great Recession and societal upheaval that followed it.
I considered doing a couple of things on tomorrow’s list but then decided against it. I decided we both needed a good night’s sleep. Also my foot was starting to call for attention. The Cottonwood campground only has 22 sites and we were lucky to get one of them, and only because I booked so far in advance. It was the “greenest” campground in the park, and I mean color not politics although that a bit as well. It was a dry camp … no water, no electric, pit toilets, etc. That meant no showers because I needed to use our fresh water tank for just in case tomorrow could be a problem. I didn’t suspect it but always try to be prepared. Tomorrow night it is supposed to be back to the RV park and all the hooks up we could need before leaving the park the next morning. At that point it is going to be a couple of days before we hit our next national park.
I wish there was something I could do to work on our plans for after Big Adventure but there’s nothing around here that I can even pull a signal from to boost. Maybe that is the Creators way of saying get some sleep and leave it to Me. Or maybe I am just running on hope/faith right now. It was Grandfather Barry of all people who taught me that sometimes you just need to let the sea take you. Maybe you’ll go to the top of the swell or maybe you’ll be dashed to the trough be either way, there are times all you can do is live through the storm and ride the waves.
[1] History of the Castolon Area - Big Bend National Park (U.S. National Park Service)
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
A great find tonight. Thank you.
October 8th – Final Day Clean Up
Man oh man did that shower feel good. Now to stay awake long enough for this curly monster on top of my head to dry. Where in the frick did these curls come from?! No one in the family has curls like this … at least not on the Barrymore side. I guess this could be from my Spanish side, but my mother’s hair was thick and straight. She did NOT look like a sheep dog that stuck its paw in a light socket. I was thinking about cutting my hair short again but the idea of a head full of short kinky curls is worse than a head full of long curls that might straighten with heavy length. Ugh. I came out of the shower, hadn’t re-braided my hair yet, and Benny took one look and nearly had a digestive disturbance he was laughing so hard. I suppose I could flat iron it, but I just don’t have the patience, not to mention just sweating makes the dang curls tighten up even more. Oh well, least of my problems I suppose. It was nice to see Benny laughing so carefree again so that falls under the win category.
Today was clean up day. We weren’t dirty, I just mean I had a pile of things left to do here in Big Bend and today was the last day we would be able to do them. Got up and left came and managed to get to the Dorgan House Trail at daybreak. It is only a 0.8 mile and we were there less than 30 minutes but it was a great way to kick start the day.
According to the trail map, how the trail came to be an official trail was that the ruins of the old ranch could be seen by passersby on Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive. People would see the ruins, stop their cars and make their own paths through the brush up to explore the site. All of this unmanaged foot traffic created a number of “social trails” through the brush to the extent that, in some areas, it eventually lead to erosion of the hillsides and other environmental and cultural damage near the ruins.
Not far down the road was a river access for canoes and kayaks. The border patrol was out in force and we had to go through a checkpoint. Sigh.
“Any more problems Ms. Barrymore?”
“Miss. And none that I’m aware of. We’re headed to Santa Elena Canyon and then to the Old Maverick Route and then Terlingua. Is that going to be a problem?”
“From DHS that is a big no. You are on the list for clearance. This thing looks like a tank. I assume it is 4x4?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should be fine, just don’t pick up passengers or even slow down if someone is trying to flag you down. Just tell the next Ranger you see.”
I said thank you and got going because there it was again … The List, The File. Next comes The Crazy.
“Aunt Gus? How do those people know you?”
“I think they are just trying to be friendly.”
“Uh, it isn’t working. They’re still strangers.”
“Yes, yes they are. But we are polite right?”
“I guess. Let’s just not talk to them anymore. They’re nice is fake.”
Benny has good instincts. I’m not going to make a lot of it. I think they were just trying to “avoid bad press” and encourage me not to broadcast what happened and how easily they were fooled. I’ll play the game … for now … so long as they leave us alone.
We stopped at the trailhead for the Santa Elena Canyon Trail only to see two Boarder Patrol vans in the small parking area. They took one look at our license plate, gave us a polite nod, and then ignored us. Good. I like being ignored by people I don’t want to talk to.
The trail was a 1.5 mile, crowded, there and back trail. It only took us an hour. I would have been willing to take longer but the crowds were pretty whack. The hike into Santa Elena Canyon begins with a short walk on flat ground, parts of which are covered with a wooden boardwalk. The Terlingua Creek feeds into the Rio Grande River at the mouth of the canyon. We had to cross the creek to continue on the trail, which extends along the northern (U.S.) side of the river. The water was about ankle-deep and easily crossed by hopping on well-placed rocks.
Had we arrived when the water level was too high, we wouldn’t have been able to safely access the canyon. The expected weather was posted at the trailhead so I knew that no rain was expected. While it's a short hike in and out, you don’t want to get stranded in the Santa Elena Canyon due to a flash flood blocking your way out.
Once we’d crossed the creek, the trail featured a short but rocky series of switchbacks. There are sign-thingies pointing out marine fossils visible in the rocks from the Cretaceous Period. As we continued to hike, the elevation decreased until Benny and I were walking on soft, sandy ground, about level with the Rio Grande River. The sky was a beautiful cerulean blue.
We kept walking and passed several large boulders that must've fallen off the rock walls at some point a long time ago. It only took us about 40 minutes at a casual pace to reach the endpoint of the Santa Elena Canyon Trail. You'll know you've reached the end of the trail when it comes to an abrupt stop at the banks of the Rio Grande River. If it's calm, the water acts as a reflecting pool.
Beyond that point, if you want to go further, your only option is a kayak or raft. Geez I was tempted but there were other things to do so we turned and headed back. By the time we got back to the trailhead there were a lot of people lined up to get on the river.
Back at the van we carefully pulled out. We would be traveling on a road not used by anything but 4x4, the Old Maverick OHV Route. It is a 12.6 mile, improved dirt road. The road runs between the scenic Santa Elena Canyon in the south and the park’s west entrance. Several interesting attractions along the route can be found, including the ruins of Terlingua Abajo, Luna’s Jacal, and the ruins at Alamo Creek.
While the park calls this road “improved” but don’t let that fool you. First, the speed limit is 25 mph but often it is a better idea to go slower than that. The flat, relatively wide road is often rough with heavy washboarding. The washboarding didn’t bother me because there’s a lot of that still around in rural areas of Florida that use lime rock as a road base rather than granite gravel. What bothered me were all the pot holes that hadn’t been repaired since the last rains. I had to wiggle all over the place to avoid them and occasionally my stomach would churn.
The area was covered in Torrey yuccas, dog chollas, creosote, and ocotillos with an occasional mesquite and cottonwood thrown in. At 2.7 miles we came to the Terlingua Abajo turn-off, which led to the best campsites and ruins on the drive. Two miles past this turn-off, we got views of Pena Mountain, then we crossed the Alamo Creek wash before the road swings north. Two rock ruins (a house and a shed) could be seen just off the road under the cliff. The worst washboarding was found along this final stretch of the road, which included a stop at Luna’s Jacal, an excellent example of a primitive house-shelter built by Gilberto Luna who raised a large family here.
When we got to the west entrance of the park I made sure we could get back in without having to pay an entrance fee and then after getting an affirmative we drove out to stop at Study Butte and Terlingua. We picked up flyers that explained the history of the area. Like Terlingua, Study Butte owes its existence to the mercury mining industry established in the area around 1900. A post office operated in Study Butte from 1917 to 1921. The town, like the nearby mountain, was named for Will Study (pronounced “Stoody”), the manager of the Big Bend or Study Butte mercury mine. In 1940, when the population of Study Butte was estimated at sixty, the Rainbow Mercury Mine was the chief employer, and the town had a school, a general store, and scattered miners’ dwellings. Study Butte enjoyed a brief economic resurgence during World War II, but by the late 1940s the mine had closed. Over the next two decades the estimated population of Study Butte dwindled to ten or fifteen. When the mine reopened in 1970, however, the town population climbed to an estimated 115. The mine closed again in 1972, but the Terlingua Ranch development started to slowly add to the population, and along with the growth of visitation to Big Bend National Park, the population of Study Butte is today over 300.
Terlingua/Study Butte was a neat stop but it wasn’t our only stop outside of the national park. Next came the Terlingua Ghost Town. Benny enjoyed this. It markets itself as the “best-kept secret” of the Big Bend area. Er … not so much but it was cool. Most afternoons you can see the Santa Fe de Los Pinos mountain range over 80 miles south in Mexico. Far in the distances you can also see the Chisos Mountains and Mule Ears peaks. There was a trading company/gift shop, art galleries, unique lodging options, restaurants, and bars and all of them were doing a brisk business so no, not really a secret.
Terlingua was a mining town around the turn of the century and was the site of the first famous championship chili cook off in 1967. Today that event draws over 10,000 “chili heads” from all over the world on the first Saturday every November.
An tourist info board … and bigger type of sign-thingie … explained that the Chisos Mining Company, was established in 1903 at Terlingua . Founded by Howard E. Perry, a Chicago industrialist, the Chisos reported the first recovery in 1903, and during the next three decades became one of the nation’s leading producers of quicksilver. Initially the company processed the cinnabar ore in primitive retorts, where the silver liquid metal is recovered through a simple baking process. As production increased, Perry turned to more industrialized methods . Exploration continued, and in 1914 the company discovered one of the richest veins of cinnabar ore in the Terlingua district. This discovery coincided with the outbreak of World War I, and with the increased military demands for the product, the company entered its most successful period. Several factors contributed to the success. First, the property contained some of the richest ore in the quicksilver district; second; Perry engaged men of outstanding caliber to supervise the onsite operations ; third, quicksilver prices peaked during World War I, the period of the mine’s maximum recovery; and fourth, an abundance of cheap Mexican labor. The community of Terlingua grew up around the mine. Up to 2,000 inhabitants had access to facilities of modern civilization: a company-owned commissary and hotel, several excellent dwellings (for Anglo employees), a school, a company doctor, telephone service, a dependable water supply, and three-times-a-week mail delivery. Prior to the use of mechanized vehicles in the early 1930s, the mule-drawn wagontrains that delivered the quicksilver to the railroad at Alpine and Marathon supplied the settlement. Production declined during the late 1930s, and on October 1, 1942, the company filed for bankruptcy.
We spent a little time roaming around the “ghost town” before heading to a small town called Lajitas. Lajitas means “small flat rocks” in Spanish. Modern day Lajitas is a resort nestled between Big Bend National Park and Big Bend Ranch State Park. It is a place popular with tourists and locals alike and has a golf course of all things. Geez.
According to yet another sign-thingie the earliest confirmed European visit to Lajitas was the expedition of Antonio de Espejo in 1588. 200 years later, the Comanches and other horse culture Plains Indians drove stolen livestock north from isolated Mexican ranchos. US army engineers between 1852 and 1860 mapped the new US/Mexico boundary and at one point crossed at Paso Lajitas with a string of camels. Active use of the crossing by Plains Indian raiding parties picked up during the US Civil War and continued into the 1870’s.
By the early 1880’s, insurgent nomadic tribes had been either eliminated or placed on reservations. Around 1895, prospectors discovered cinnabar ore in the southern Big Bend region, and a mining boom began that lasted 50 years. Paso Lajitas was used by wagons delivering food, fuel and fiber for the burgeoning mining communities of Fresno, Terlingua, Study Butte, El 248 and others. In 1899, the Lajitas Trading Post was established. Around the same time a number of cattle ranches and mining enterprises appeared in northern Mexico. Lajitas, Texas was designated a substation port of entry in 1900. Farming along the narrow floodplain of the river served to bring in more families, and by 1912 the town had a store, saloon, school with fifty pupils, and a customhouse.
I was going to take us down the River Road which is the knickname of the road between Lajitas and Presidio but the armored vehicles patrolling the area were more than just a little off-putting and there were signs warning of multiple checkpoints so we headed back into the park.
The other trails we did were:
A couple more “thank you for enquiring but …” type responses to my job search. I only got one semi-positive response and that was mostly to refer me to the investment group that owns them. Good thing my feelings don’t get hurt too easily. I’ve got another list of businesses to send enquiries to that I’ve already started on.
My hair is finally dry enough to go to bed. I’m gonna tell Benny it is sleep time and we’ll just get up early to get on the road.
Resources:
https://www.nps.gov/bibe/planyourvisit/upload/BIBEmap1.jpg
Man oh man did that shower feel good. Now to stay awake long enough for this curly monster on top of my head to dry. Where in the frick did these curls come from?! No one in the family has curls like this … at least not on the Barrymore side. I guess this could be from my Spanish side, but my mother’s hair was thick and straight. She did NOT look like a sheep dog that stuck its paw in a light socket. I was thinking about cutting my hair short again but the idea of a head full of short kinky curls is worse than a head full of long curls that might straighten with heavy length. Ugh. I came out of the shower, hadn’t re-braided my hair yet, and Benny took one look and nearly had a digestive disturbance he was laughing so hard. I suppose I could flat iron it, but I just don’t have the patience, not to mention just sweating makes the dang curls tighten up even more. Oh well, least of my problems I suppose. It was nice to see Benny laughing so carefree again so that falls under the win category.
Today was clean up day. We weren’t dirty, I just mean I had a pile of things left to do here in Big Bend and today was the last day we would be able to do them. Got up and left came and managed to get to the Dorgan House Trail at daybreak. It is only a 0.8 mile and we were there less than 30 minutes but it was a great way to kick start the day.
According to the trail map, how the trail came to be an official trail was that the ruins of the old ranch could be seen by passersby on Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive. People would see the ruins, stop their cars and make their own paths through the brush up to explore the site. All of this unmanaged foot traffic created a number of “social trails” through the brush to the extent that, in some areas, it eventually lead to erosion of the hillsides and other environmental and cultural damage near the ruins.
Not far down the road was a river access for canoes and kayaks. The border patrol was out in force and we had to go through a checkpoint. Sigh.
“Any more problems Ms. Barrymore?”
“Miss. And none that I’m aware of. We’re headed to Santa Elena Canyon and then to the Old Maverick Route and then Terlingua. Is that going to be a problem?”
“From DHS that is a big no. You are on the list for clearance. This thing looks like a tank. I assume it is 4x4?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should be fine, just don’t pick up passengers or even slow down if someone is trying to flag you down. Just tell the next Ranger you see.”
I said thank you and got going because there it was again … The List, The File. Next comes The Crazy.
“Aunt Gus? How do those people know you?”
“I think they are just trying to be friendly.”
“Uh, it isn’t working. They’re still strangers.”
“Yes, yes they are. But we are polite right?”
“I guess. Let’s just not talk to them anymore. They’re nice is fake.”
Benny has good instincts. I’m not going to make a lot of it. I think they were just trying to “avoid bad press” and encourage me not to broadcast what happened and how easily they were fooled. I’ll play the game … for now … so long as they leave us alone.
We stopped at the trailhead for the Santa Elena Canyon Trail only to see two Boarder Patrol vans in the small parking area. They took one look at our license plate, gave us a polite nod, and then ignored us. Good. I like being ignored by people I don’t want to talk to.
The trail was a 1.5 mile, crowded, there and back trail. It only took us an hour. I would have been willing to take longer but the crowds were pretty whack. The hike into Santa Elena Canyon begins with a short walk on flat ground, parts of which are covered with a wooden boardwalk. The Terlingua Creek feeds into the Rio Grande River at the mouth of the canyon. We had to cross the creek to continue on the trail, which extends along the northern (U.S.) side of the river. The water was about ankle-deep and easily crossed by hopping on well-placed rocks.
Had we arrived when the water level was too high, we wouldn’t have been able to safely access the canyon. The expected weather was posted at the trailhead so I knew that no rain was expected. While it's a short hike in and out, you don’t want to get stranded in the Santa Elena Canyon due to a flash flood blocking your way out.
Once we’d crossed the creek, the trail featured a short but rocky series of switchbacks. There are sign-thingies pointing out marine fossils visible in the rocks from the Cretaceous Period. As we continued to hike, the elevation decreased until Benny and I were walking on soft, sandy ground, about level with the Rio Grande River. The sky was a beautiful cerulean blue.
We kept walking and passed several large boulders that must've fallen off the rock walls at some point a long time ago. It only took us about 40 minutes at a casual pace to reach the endpoint of the Santa Elena Canyon Trail. You'll know you've reached the end of the trail when it comes to an abrupt stop at the banks of the Rio Grande River. If it's calm, the water acts as a reflecting pool.
Beyond that point, if you want to go further, your only option is a kayak or raft. Geez I was tempted but there were other things to do so we turned and headed back. By the time we got back to the trailhead there were a lot of people lined up to get on the river.
Back at the van we carefully pulled out. We would be traveling on a road not used by anything but 4x4, the Old Maverick OHV Route. It is a 12.6 mile, improved dirt road. The road runs between the scenic Santa Elena Canyon in the south and the park’s west entrance. Several interesting attractions along the route can be found, including the ruins of Terlingua Abajo, Luna’s Jacal, and the ruins at Alamo Creek.
While the park calls this road “improved” but don’t let that fool you. First, the speed limit is 25 mph but often it is a better idea to go slower than that. The flat, relatively wide road is often rough with heavy washboarding. The washboarding didn’t bother me because there’s a lot of that still around in rural areas of Florida that use lime rock as a road base rather than granite gravel. What bothered me were all the pot holes that hadn’t been repaired since the last rains. I had to wiggle all over the place to avoid them and occasionally my stomach would churn.
The area was covered in Torrey yuccas, dog chollas, creosote, and ocotillos with an occasional mesquite and cottonwood thrown in. At 2.7 miles we came to the Terlingua Abajo turn-off, which led to the best campsites and ruins on the drive. Two miles past this turn-off, we got views of Pena Mountain, then we crossed the Alamo Creek wash before the road swings north. Two rock ruins (a house and a shed) could be seen just off the road under the cliff. The worst washboarding was found along this final stretch of the road, which included a stop at Luna’s Jacal, an excellent example of a primitive house-shelter built by Gilberto Luna who raised a large family here.
When we got to the west entrance of the park I made sure we could get back in without having to pay an entrance fee and then after getting an affirmative we drove out to stop at Study Butte and Terlingua. We picked up flyers that explained the history of the area. Like Terlingua, Study Butte owes its existence to the mercury mining industry established in the area around 1900. A post office operated in Study Butte from 1917 to 1921. The town, like the nearby mountain, was named for Will Study (pronounced “Stoody”), the manager of the Big Bend or Study Butte mercury mine. In 1940, when the population of Study Butte was estimated at sixty, the Rainbow Mercury Mine was the chief employer, and the town had a school, a general store, and scattered miners’ dwellings. Study Butte enjoyed a brief economic resurgence during World War II, but by the late 1940s the mine had closed. Over the next two decades the estimated population of Study Butte dwindled to ten or fifteen. When the mine reopened in 1970, however, the town population climbed to an estimated 115. The mine closed again in 1972, but the Terlingua Ranch development started to slowly add to the population, and along with the growth of visitation to Big Bend National Park, the population of Study Butte is today over 300.
Terlingua/Study Butte was a neat stop but it wasn’t our only stop outside of the national park. Next came the Terlingua Ghost Town. Benny enjoyed this. It markets itself as the “best-kept secret” of the Big Bend area. Er … not so much but it was cool. Most afternoons you can see the Santa Fe de Los Pinos mountain range over 80 miles south in Mexico. Far in the distances you can also see the Chisos Mountains and Mule Ears peaks. There was a trading company/gift shop, art galleries, unique lodging options, restaurants, and bars and all of them were doing a brisk business so no, not really a secret.
Terlingua was a mining town around the turn of the century and was the site of the first famous championship chili cook off in 1967. Today that event draws over 10,000 “chili heads” from all over the world on the first Saturday every November.
An tourist info board … and bigger type of sign-thingie … explained that the Chisos Mining Company, was established in 1903 at Terlingua . Founded by Howard E. Perry, a Chicago industrialist, the Chisos reported the first recovery in 1903, and during the next three decades became one of the nation’s leading producers of quicksilver. Initially the company processed the cinnabar ore in primitive retorts, where the silver liquid metal is recovered through a simple baking process. As production increased, Perry turned to more industrialized methods . Exploration continued, and in 1914 the company discovered one of the richest veins of cinnabar ore in the Terlingua district. This discovery coincided with the outbreak of World War I, and with the increased military demands for the product, the company entered its most successful period. Several factors contributed to the success. First, the property contained some of the richest ore in the quicksilver district; second; Perry engaged men of outstanding caliber to supervise the onsite operations ; third, quicksilver prices peaked during World War I, the period of the mine’s maximum recovery; and fourth, an abundance of cheap Mexican labor. The community of Terlingua grew up around the mine. Up to 2,000 inhabitants had access to facilities of modern civilization: a company-owned commissary and hotel, several excellent dwellings (for Anglo employees), a school, a company doctor, telephone service, a dependable water supply, and three-times-a-week mail delivery. Prior to the use of mechanized vehicles in the early 1930s, the mule-drawn wagontrains that delivered the quicksilver to the railroad at Alpine and Marathon supplied the settlement. Production declined during the late 1930s, and on October 1, 1942, the company filed for bankruptcy.
We spent a little time roaming around the “ghost town” before heading to a small town called Lajitas. Lajitas means “small flat rocks” in Spanish. Modern day Lajitas is a resort nestled between Big Bend National Park and Big Bend Ranch State Park. It is a place popular with tourists and locals alike and has a golf course of all things. Geez.
According to yet another sign-thingie the earliest confirmed European visit to Lajitas was the expedition of Antonio de Espejo in 1588. 200 years later, the Comanches and other horse culture Plains Indians drove stolen livestock north from isolated Mexican ranchos. US army engineers between 1852 and 1860 mapped the new US/Mexico boundary and at one point crossed at Paso Lajitas with a string of camels. Active use of the crossing by Plains Indian raiding parties picked up during the US Civil War and continued into the 1870’s.
By the early 1880’s, insurgent nomadic tribes had been either eliminated or placed on reservations. Around 1895, prospectors discovered cinnabar ore in the southern Big Bend region, and a mining boom began that lasted 50 years. Paso Lajitas was used by wagons delivering food, fuel and fiber for the burgeoning mining communities of Fresno, Terlingua, Study Butte, El 248 and others. In 1899, the Lajitas Trading Post was established. Around the same time a number of cattle ranches and mining enterprises appeared in northern Mexico. Lajitas, Texas was designated a substation port of entry in 1900. Farming along the narrow floodplain of the river served to bring in more families, and by 1912 the town had a store, saloon, school with fifty pupils, and a customhouse.
I was going to take us down the River Road which is the knickname of the road between Lajitas and Presidio but the armored vehicles patrolling the area were more than just a little off-putting and there were signs warning of multiple checkpoints so we headed back into the park.
The other trails we did were:
- Indian Head Trail, a 1.9 mile loop trail.
- Lajitas Loop 3A, a 3.8 mile loop trail that we had to share with a group of mountain bikers.
- Closed Canyon Trail, a 1.4 mile out and back trail.
- Big Bend Hoodoos Trail, a 1.2 mile loop trail.
A couple more “thank you for enquiring but …” type responses to my job search. I only got one semi-positive response and that was mostly to refer me to the investment group that owns them. Good thing my feelings don’t get hurt too easily. I’ve got another list of businesses to send enquiries to that I’ve already started on.
My hair is finally dry enough to go to bed. I’m gonna tell Benny it is sleep time and we’ll just get up early to get on the road.
Resources:
https://www.nps.gov/bibe/planyourvisit/upload/BIBEmap1.jpg
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you.
Oct 9 – 10: San Antonio, TX
Driving Route:
October 9th – Cascade Caverns
Drove the 5.5 hours to tonight’s location, Cascade Caverns. Benny seems to be back to normal and was thrilled because even though there wasn’t a Junior Ranger program in sight-it was a private tourist site-he still got to do fun things like go to the “Rock Quarry” and dig. And low and behold he found an unusual number of precious stones in his batch of dirt. I really don’t know if it was a “fix” to lure you into buying another bag o’ dirt but despite the temptation I didn’t. I’m trying to watch our pennies. I don’t want to hide from my anxiety at the end of the month approaching by covering it up with spent money for distractions. I’m not turning into a skinflint, there is still money left in the Big Adventure Budget, but gas isn’t getting any cheaper and there could be an extra just-in-case situation arise. I’m just trying to adult responsibly. The news hasn’t been helping my peace o’ mind either.
The national news has moved on to new stories but local news out of Florida still makes the storm damage sound like blood and guts left behind after a bug hits the windshield. That may be another reason why I haven’t really gotten any nibbles on my applications. And why the RV and Trailer Parks aren’t returning many of my emails. Lotta people looking for work according to the national news. A lot of people looking to buy up discount properties from people leaving the state due to the storms. The problem for Florida has always been people are surprised at how expensive it can be to live there versus the cost of living. And how it looks like Florida might be out snowbird season this year. Lots of damaged hotels and beach condos. Even the major theme parks are still dealing with damage, and it looks like another storm, this one a late and severe tropical storm, will be dumping a lot of water all across the state.
Our destination is on the outskirts of San Antonio. Once we got there, I parked in our campsite which they allowed us to sign in for early. It isn’t a cheap location, but it is still less expensive than staying in a hotel and this is with full hook ups including sewer, something the van was needing. It is a big campground with over one hundred sites. And most of them are full even though it is October. Didn’t see any kids but I understand there are quite a few of them on the weekends and as day use customers. Free wifi was a plus; and there are also showers and laundry facilities as a big plus. Each site comes with a picnic table, grill, and fire ring. All the comforts of home except for AC and Benny and I learned to live without that in Key West.
After parking the van and hooking everything up we headed to the cave for a tour. It wasn’t Carlsbad but it was still fun. Took about an hour and the cave was very wet. The guide said that during the summer rains the cave often floods. The idea of getting stuck down there during a flood did not peg my happy meter. During the summer there is a special group spelunking tour where they take you in the lower reaches of the cave for three to four hours. One of the requirements is that you have to be able to swim. I don’t know, if I didn’t have Benny and was with a bunch of my old shipmates that might sound like an adventure worth having but I guess I’m turning into a stodgy old lady because right now Benny’s security and safety comes before anything else, and I don’t resent it for even a microsecond. Will I when I’m older? I hope not. My priorities are what they are, and I don’t want to have regrets about anything.
We also learned about the “blind salamanders” and other critters that live in the cave. The cave is currently home to several unusual insects and animals including Cliff and Leopard Frogs, Tri-Color Bats, Cave Ground Beetles, Cave Harvestmen, Cave Crickets, as well as the salamanders that are distinct to Cascade Caverns. Freaky looking things. And to top it off, as junk has been cleaned from the cave over the years, they’ve found mastodon fossils. Don’t ask me how giant mastodons got all the way back in that little cavern space but there you have it. Maybe the bones were washed in during a flood, maybe they were drug in by a predator. Who knows? It just seems kinda strange and Benny and I were both fascinated with the possibilities for a bit.
Our next activity was the “Rock Quarry” where Benny spent nearly an hour digging in the dirt and finding minerals, gems, and fossils. He was rewarded for his careful patience by finding several of each. He was satisfied and very dirty. I spent the time gleaning info from the locals.
First, they were surprised I hadn’t run into any trouble on the border. Crime in San Antonio spiked over the summer and hadn’t come back to statistical normal yet, and wasn’t predicted to. In other words, the higher crime rate was the new normal. With the economy nose-diving, even cheap, paid-under-the-table, illegals weren’t getting hired on. There’s noise about another amnesty push but with so few taking the offer last time it came up, and the recognition of how many public resources are being used by the unaccompanied minors, there is a hard swing taking place against all illegals. Or should I say another one; I swear every couple of years depending on who is in the Oval Office there is a change in how that situation is addressed. They already spend billions on illegals, spending more money on the issue isn’t finding any love in the general public. In particular the legal minorities - whether black, brown, or yellow – are making a lot of noise and threatening to take down politicians that try to give any resources to illegal populations; not any more, but any at all. In the news those groups who were once inclusive to the illegals are now very much against them. With less money to go around and higher taxes now affecting everyone and not just the higher income levels as they keep promising, the special interest groups are starting to be every man for themselves.
I can’t believe how political my thinking has become. Nowhere near a lot of people but certainly more than I was in school and even up to the beginning of this trip. I considered myself as sort of an a-political conservative, not that that makes much sense I suppose. Politics was a game I just wasn’t interested in playing, but the “planks” of conservatism is something I would fight for. Many of my friends considered themselves “politically conservative, socially liberal” and at one time I thought nearly the same way. However, traveling across the country has changed me. While I see many sides of the arguments being made, have witnessed them firsthand, believe that the USA can be for everyone, but I also believe in “stipulations” to having access to the Melting Pot this country is supposed to be.
One, come here legally. I know that people really do fear for their lives and are trying to find a safe haven for their family, but they are going about it the wrong way. As a country we are being sucked dry of our ability to be charitable. By refusing to follow the laws all the illegals are doing is creating an environment where what they are running from is being created here so that there is no escape, only revictimization. Two, work legally and pay your share of the taxes that provides all the services you receive and the infrastructure you use. You don’t get something for nothing, other people have to pay your bill when you don’t pay it, sometimes including with their lives. Three, don’t drag the crap you are leaving with you when you come whether you are legal or not. And if you are from here, don’t encourage that crap. Innocent people die because you bring your crap with you. Four … oh forget it. Who am I kidding? If people break the law to get here, there is no reasonable expectation that they will follow the law once they cross the border.
Then there are our homegrown needy. I understand that people fall through the cracks and/or are failed at home. But giving everyone a “get out of jail free” card is nothing but a guarantee they will use it once and then go back and try and get another one because they didn’t learn anything the first time around. Giving everyone a prize demeans winning and removes motivation. I saw and experienced that first hand in high school.
There are people that fall their entire lives and never hit bottom because they aren’t given the chance to hit bottom. And speaking from experience here, sometimes hitting bottom is the only way to get enough push to head back towards the top. You should also pay into the system before you are allowed to withdraw from that account. Immigrants haven’t and illegals won’t. Oh they pay sales tax on stuff they buy but that is negligible compared to what they take out of the system. Even way back in the 2020s the government admitted that at a minimum, illegal immigrants cost the taxpayers in this country at least $6.6 Billion per year … at a minimum, and that didn’t include hidden costs. These days due to inflation and ever increasing border crossings and such, that number has more than tripled. And the scarcity in services makes it even worse for those that spent a lifetime paying into a system that was supposed to be there for them later in life. It is unsustainable but no one wants to look like the bad guy and turn the tap off.
I sympathize and have compassion but there must be a firm boundary that if you cross it, you are subject to penalties. And I am not just talking illegal aliens. We have laws in this country. If you don’t like a law or think it is “unfair” then change it properly, don’ just go around breaking it. And if you get caught breaking the law then don’t whine and cry about it when there are penalties. You know what you are doing, then accept if you do the crime you do the time, consequences, whatever, up to and including getting sent back to where you come from or jail time at hard labor so that the tax payers of this country don’t have to pay your babysitting fees. Okay, done now. I’m afraid I’m going to start shaking a cane and shouting about “whipper snappers” or something.
I asked several people standing around that said they were locals if there were any particular areas to stay away from and every person said “Nevada Street” was at the top of the list. All righty then. No “Nevada Street” for us. East Terrell Hills came in a close second. Both locations are five times higher for crimes, both “regular” and “violent,” than the national average. After they kept naming places I asked, “Okay, new question then. Is there any relatively safe places I can go with my nephew to see the city?”
The consensus was to stick to the traditional tourist spots because even though they were surrounded by high crime areas, the extra security at places like The Alamo and the River Walk made them less likely to experience an issue worse than pick pockets. Just make sure to secure our vehicle and park in lots that have cameras and on-site security. Geez.
Benny and I both had the wiggles at that point, so we headed back to the van for a quick pit stop and then decided to walk around the park and check out the two nature trails on site. Combining both trails netted less than two miles. That didn’t get rid of the wiggles, so I decided it was time for some fall cleaning.
“First we give the van a thorough cleaning, get all the laundry and bedding clean, then we go get ourselves clean. Then we’ll just veg out. If you want, you and your shipmates can watch something on my iPad while Aunt Gus gets some adulting done.”
“Can we go to the playground before we take our showers?”
In a very silly voice I answered, “I say, I say I believe that the Barrymore itinerary can be adjusted to allow for that should Master Barrymore have the desire.” He gave me a strange look before laughing. I believe he appreciated the effort more than my attempt at sounding like Foghorn Leghorn.
And that how the evening has gone. I reviewed safety in a cityscape with Benny and safety in crowds as well. It made him a little uncomfortable but I feel it was necessary. The next week or so our traveling is going to be a bit different and I want him prepared. For now he is watching a vid with The Crew and I need to get back to working on the list of companies to send emails to enquiring about work opportunities. Not fun, but it is my own necessity.
Driving Route:
October 9th – Cascade Caverns
Drove the 5.5 hours to tonight’s location, Cascade Caverns. Benny seems to be back to normal and was thrilled because even though there wasn’t a Junior Ranger program in sight-it was a private tourist site-he still got to do fun things like go to the “Rock Quarry” and dig. And low and behold he found an unusual number of precious stones in his batch of dirt. I really don’t know if it was a “fix” to lure you into buying another bag o’ dirt but despite the temptation I didn’t. I’m trying to watch our pennies. I don’t want to hide from my anxiety at the end of the month approaching by covering it up with spent money for distractions. I’m not turning into a skinflint, there is still money left in the Big Adventure Budget, but gas isn’t getting any cheaper and there could be an extra just-in-case situation arise. I’m just trying to adult responsibly. The news hasn’t been helping my peace o’ mind either.
The national news has moved on to new stories but local news out of Florida still makes the storm damage sound like blood and guts left behind after a bug hits the windshield. That may be another reason why I haven’t really gotten any nibbles on my applications. And why the RV and Trailer Parks aren’t returning many of my emails. Lotta people looking for work according to the national news. A lot of people looking to buy up discount properties from people leaving the state due to the storms. The problem for Florida has always been people are surprised at how expensive it can be to live there versus the cost of living. And how it looks like Florida might be out snowbird season this year. Lots of damaged hotels and beach condos. Even the major theme parks are still dealing with damage, and it looks like another storm, this one a late and severe tropical storm, will be dumping a lot of water all across the state.
Our destination is on the outskirts of San Antonio. Once we got there, I parked in our campsite which they allowed us to sign in for early. It isn’t a cheap location, but it is still less expensive than staying in a hotel and this is with full hook ups including sewer, something the van was needing. It is a big campground with over one hundred sites. And most of them are full even though it is October. Didn’t see any kids but I understand there are quite a few of them on the weekends and as day use customers. Free wifi was a plus; and there are also showers and laundry facilities as a big plus. Each site comes with a picnic table, grill, and fire ring. All the comforts of home except for AC and Benny and I learned to live without that in Key West.
After parking the van and hooking everything up we headed to the cave for a tour. It wasn’t Carlsbad but it was still fun. Took about an hour and the cave was very wet. The guide said that during the summer rains the cave often floods. The idea of getting stuck down there during a flood did not peg my happy meter. During the summer there is a special group spelunking tour where they take you in the lower reaches of the cave for three to four hours. One of the requirements is that you have to be able to swim. I don’t know, if I didn’t have Benny and was with a bunch of my old shipmates that might sound like an adventure worth having but I guess I’m turning into a stodgy old lady because right now Benny’s security and safety comes before anything else, and I don’t resent it for even a microsecond. Will I when I’m older? I hope not. My priorities are what they are, and I don’t want to have regrets about anything.
We also learned about the “blind salamanders” and other critters that live in the cave. The cave is currently home to several unusual insects and animals including Cliff and Leopard Frogs, Tri-Color Bats, Cave Ground Beetles, Cave Harvestmen, Cave Crickets, as well as the salamanders that are distinct to Cascade Caverns. Freaky looking things. And to top it off, as junk has been cleaned from the cave over the years, they’ve found mastodon fossils. Don’t ask me how giant mastodons got all the way back in that little cavern space but there you have it. Maybe the bones were washed in during a flood, maybe they were drug in by a predator. Who knows? It just seems kinda strange and Benny and I were both fascinated with the possibilities for a bit.
Our next activity was the “Rock Quarry” where Benny spent nearly an hour digging in the dirt and finding minerals, gems, and fossils. He was rewarded for his careful patience by finding several of each. He was satisfied and very dirty. I spent the time gleaning info from the locals.
First, they were surprised I hadn’t run into any trouble on the border. Crime in San Antonio spiked over the summer and hadn’t come back to statistical normal yet, and wasn’t predicted to. In other words, the higher crime rate was the new normal. With the economy nose-diving, even cheap, paid-under-the-table, illegals weren’t getting hired on. There’s noise about another amnesty push but with so few taking the offer last time it came up, and the recognition of how many public resources are being used by the unaccompanied minors, there is a hard swing taking place against all illegals. Or should I say another one; I swear every couple of years depending on who is in the Oval Office there is a change in how that situation is addressed. They already spend billions on illegals, spending more money on the issue isn’t finding any love in the general public. In particular the legal minorities - whether black, brown, or yellow – are making a lot of noise and threatening to take down politicians that try to give any resources to illegal populations; not any more, but any at all. In the news those groups who were once inclusive to the illegals are now very much against them. With less money to go around and higher taxes now affecting everyone and not just the higher income levels as they keep promising, the special interest groups are starting to be every man for themselves.
I can’t believe how political my thinking has become. Nowhere near a lot of people but certainly more than I was in school and even up to the beginning of this trip. I considered myself as sort of an a-political conservative, not that that makes much sense I suppose. Politics was a game I just wasn’t interested in playing, but the “planks” of conservatism is something I would fight for. Many of my friends considered themselves “politically conservative, socially liberal” and at one time I thought nearly the same way. However, traveling across the country has changed me. While I see many sides of the arguments being made, have witnessed them firsthand, believe that the USA can be for everyone, but I also believe in “stipulations” to having access to the Melting Pot this country is supposed to be.
One, come here legally. I know that people really do fear for their lives and are trying to find a safe haven for their family, but they are going about it the wrong way. As a country we are being sucked dry of our ability to be charitable. By refusing to follow the laws all the illegals are doing is creating an environment where what they are running from is being created here so that there is no escape, only revictimization. Two, work legally and pay your share of the taxes that provides all the services you receive and the infrastructure you use. You don’t get something for nothing, other people have to pay your bill when you don’t pay it, sometimes including with their lives. Three, don’t drag the crap you are leaving with you when you come whether you are legal or not. And if you are from here, don’t encourage that crap. Innocent people die because you bring your crap with you. Four … oh forget it. Who am I kidding? If people break the law to get here, there is no reasonable expectation that they will follow the law once they cross the border.
Then there are our homegrown needy. I understand that people fall through the cracks and/or are failed at home. But giving everyone a “get out of jail free” card is nothing but a guarantee they will use it once and then go back and try and get another one because they didn’t learn anything the first time around. Giving everyone a prize demeans winning and removes motivation. I saw and experienced that first hand in high school.
There are people that fall their entire lives and never hit bottom because they aren’t given the chance to hit bottom. And speaking from experience here, sometimes hitting bottom is the only way to get enough push to head back towards the top. You should also pay into the system before you are allowed to withdraw from that account. Immigrants haven’t and illegals won’t. Oh they pay sales tax on stuff they buy but that is negligible compared to what they take out of the system. Even way back in the 2020s the government admitted that at a minimum, illegal immigrants cost the taxpayers in this country at least $6.6 Billion per year … at a minimum, and that didn’t include hidden costs. These days due to inflation and ever increasing border crossings and such, that number has more than tripled. And the scarcity in services makes it even worse for those that spent a lifetime paying into a system that was supposed to be there for them later in life. It is unsustainable but no one wants to look like the bad guy and turn the tap off.
I sympathize and have compassion but there must be a firm boundary that if you cross it, you are subject to penalties. And I am not just talking illegal aliens. We have laws in this country. If you don’t like a law or think it is “unfair” then change it properly, don’ just go around breaking it. And if you get caught breaking the law then don’t whine and cry about it when there are penalties. You know what you are doing, then accept if you do the crime you do the time, consequences, whatever, up to and including getting sent back to where you come from or jail time at hard labor so that the tax payers of this country don’t have to pay your babysitting fees. Okay, done now. I’m afraid I’m going to start shaking a cane and shouting about “whipper snappers” or something.
I asked several people standing around that said they were locals if there were any particular areas to stay away from and every person said “Nevada Street” was at the top of the list. All righty then. No “Nevada Street” for us. East Terrell Hills came in a close second. Both locations are five times higher for crimes, both “regular” and “violent,” than the national average. After they kept naming places I asked, “Okay, new question then. Is there any relatively safe places I can go with my nephew to see the city?”
The consensus was to stick to the traditional tourist spots because even though they were surrounded by high crime areas, the extra security at places like The Alamo and the River Walk made them less likely to experience an issue worse than pick pockets. Just make sure to secure our vehicle and park in lots that have cameras and on-site security. Geez.
Benny and I both had the wiggles at that point, so we headed back to the van for a quick pit stop and then decided to walk around the park and check out the two nature trails on site. Combining both trails netted less than two miles. That didn’t get rid of the wiggles, so I decided it was time for some fall cleaning.
“First we give the van a thorough cleaning, get all the laundry and bedding clean, then we go get ourselves clean. Then we’ll just veg out. If you want, you and your shipmates can watch something on my iPad while Aunt Gus gets some adulting done.”
“Can we go to the playground before we take our showers?”
In a very silly voice I answered, “I say, I say I believe that the Barrymore itinerary can be adjusted to allow for that should Master Barrymore have the desire.” He gave me a strange look before laughing. I believe he appreciated the effort more than my attempt at sounding like Foghorn Leghorn.
And that how the evening has gone. I reviewed safety in a cityscape with Benny and safety in crowds as well. It made him a little uncomfortable but I feel it was necessary. The next week or so our traveling is going to be a bit different and I want him prepared. For now he is watching a vid with The Crew and I need to get back to working on the list of companies to send emails to enquiring about work opportunities. Not fun, but it is my own necessity.
October 10th – San Antonio City Tour
I almost gave into the urge to splurge and take Benny to Sea World – San Antonio until I was checking last night and found out the price of tickets. Good grief. No wonder Dad never took me to the theme parks. Even if we hadn’t had to get a hotel room for the night it would have cost us the utilities just to get through the gate, much less food and drink for the day.
Instead, I took Benny and went to The Alamo. Not only was it free but it had some historically redeeming aspects. It took us forty-five minutes to get there from our campsite. Parking was an issue, but I expected it to be and had called ahead for recommendations of a nearby parking area with security. It opened at 9 am and we spent two hours there.
The Alamo was centrally located in downtown San Antonio, and featured interactive tours and exhibits and was even hosting a reenactment of the Texas Revolution while we were there. Founded in 1718 as the first mission in San Antonio, the Alamo served as a way station between east Texas and Mexico. From that point in the descriptions, the sign-thingies got a little flowery and romanticized. In 1836, decades after the mission had closed, the Alamo became an inspiration and a motivation for liberty during the Texas Revolution. For 13 days in 1836, close to 200 Texas defenders held the Alamo from approximately 2,500 of General Santa Anna’s troops from Mexico. The most famous of the defenders, William Travis, James Bowie, and David Crockett, died fighting overwhelming odds for freedom. Today, visitors are invited to rediscover the gem of Texas history, stroll through the 4.2-acre complex and Alamo Gardens.
Immediately afterwards I had a surprise for Benny. I had seen the hop on hop off buses in DC and had done some research on them. To avoid having to move the van around from a cheap parking garage to a different parking spot each time we wanted to experience something new, I decided to give the hop off hop on in San Antonio a try. The tour stops included:
“You think they have our order ready?” I asked Benny who had been eyeing my backpack like he was wondering if there was lunch in there.
“Aunt Gus?” he asked. “Have you got a surprise?” he asked suspiciously.
I laughed and said, “Online ordering is what Grandma Barry used to call Da Bomb.”
“That’s weird,” giving me the same face I used to give Grandma Barry when she would say stuff like that.
“It’s just how old folks talk. They use slang that they used as kids and forget to everyone else that’s like ancient history.”
“It’s weird. Why would we want our food to explode?” I just laughed, remembering I’d asked my grandmother something similar and how it had made my grandfather and father just laugh and laugh.
Eating was a bit of a challenge, but I came prepared. I pulled a plastic tablecloth out of my backpack that we’ve used multiple times when we’d had picnic lunches during a hike or at an overlook. A parking lot isn’t much different from a concrete pullout and we were both hungry enough that it was easy to ignore some of the odd looks we got. The looks got odder when we picked up where we’d been sitting and left it better than we found it. Wetnaps and hand sanitizer took care of the minimal mess and we were ready to get back on the HOHO (hop on hop off) when the bus pulled up a few minutes later.
Stop #10 we did get off at. Buckhorn Saloon and Texas Ranger Museum is billed as an immersive Texas experience where you explore hundreds of animal species, the Texas Ranger Gallery and Ranger Town. Wasn’t cheap but was sure neat. At the Buckhorn Saloon the had a exotic animal collection that was kinda neat. There were a wide range of other things as well; the Texas Ranger Museum to the saloon, and cafe, to the gift shop and private event space - it’s no wonder that The Buckhorn Saloon and Museum has become one of the biggest attractions in downtown San Antonio. It is all Texas history all the time. As their advertising billboard says, “The Buckhorn Saloon Museum offers the full Texas experience for locals and tourists alike.”
In 2006, the Former Texas Rangers Association partnered with the Buckhorn Museum to open the Texas Ranger Museum. This was a really cool exhibit that offers the public the chance to see historic artifacts that span more than a century of Ranger history. While we went through it, we learned about notable Texas Rangers such as Ray Martinez, Joaquin Jackson, John B. Armstrong and Frank Hamer. And yes, I was left explaining the difference between a Texas Ranger and a Park Ranger. Benny did not approve of them using the same title. “If they are different then they should be called something different. They are making it confusing on purpose and that’s stupid.”
We rode the HOHO back around and then got off at #11 where we took in the River Walk on a narrated River Cruise which was another one of the perks I got for buying the HOHO tickets online. The ride only lasted 35 minutes so had I had to buy the tickets separately I’m not sure that I would have, but it was fun and interesting. Our guide was either very good about reciting his script or was knowledgeable about local history … or both. I think he was a college student because he had a UTSA bookstore bag tucked away near the “driver’s seat.”
After the “cruise” we hopped off and straight into a crowd of people doing the same thing we were, looking for something to eat. Casa Rio (it’s been around since the 1940s) was a place that I had thought about eating dinner, but we were running out of time, and we were still full from lunch. Then I spotted a small “food truck” type thing where you could order food to go. Their prices weren’t great, but they weren’t as awful as some of the other Riverwalk places I’d looked into. I decided to chance it and got several things to take back with us for dinner. Flautas (use corn tortillas), a small container of chili con carne with picadillo meat, an avocado salad, and one deluxe dinner to go. And just to make sure that I overspent, we stopped at Schilo’s – the oldest restaurant in San Antonio since it started in 1917 – and picked up a couple of bottles of their craft root beer.
Got a lot of comments from people on the bus about the smell coming out of the bag I had to buy to carry everything in. But we made it back to Stop #1 (the Alamo) before the 5:30 closing time and then made it to the van. I quickly put Benny in and locked the door despite the heat and did a quick turn with a stubby screwdriver head peeking through my knuckles for just in case. Carlsbad was a lesson I will never forget. Good thing I checked. Some mean idiot had wedged several large construction nails so that when I backed out they would blow all four of my tires. I looked around and saw more such booby traps on the other large vehicles near me. So much for onsite security.
Well someone had irritated me so I decided to do them the favor right back. I called the cops, the owners of the parking garage, the Alamo administrative offices, and several local businesses and told or left messages. I also took pictures of the booby traps and a picture of the guy in the security booth sitting there watching Telemundo instead of doing his job. And then I got on yelp, tripadvisor, BBB, and every other such site and left a message about how ineffective their so-called “on-site” security really was and that I would not recommend it and businesses shouldn’t recommend it either unless they were willing to accept liability for their inept security.
After leaving notes on the drivers’ side doors of the other cars that I’d seen vandalized with the boobies, I drove down to the garage entrance to meet the cop that I saw was talking to the security guard. The guard tried to say I was lying, but I showed the cop the pictures and vid I had taken. The guard called me a bitch in Spanish, and I told him in the same language to do the job he was getting paid to do or to get out of the way for someone who would. It always surprises people to find out I’m fluent in two languages. Just because I didn’t know my mother doesn’t mean I didn’t know some of her family. I wasn’t a teen yet when the last of them picked up and moved to Costa Rico. Dad wasn’t unhappy about it. He liked his sister in laws, wasn’t fond of their husbands though, and even as a kid I knew my cousins were all hellions on both sides of the family. There’s a reason why I could cuss like a sailor before I wanted to become one. Not proud of it, just stating a fact.
My temper finally cooled down and Benny and I headed back to our camp.
I was called back to my main purpose in life with Benny commented, “Do we have to go to anymore cities? They make you cranky.”
Oh crap. Be the good example Aunt Gus, not the example of what you shouldn’t be … especially a potty mouth. “Er … you know, that’s a good point. I apologize if I upset you. It wasn’t you I was upset with.”
“I know,” he said. “But they still make you cranky.”
“Yes, they do. And yes, we’ve got other cities to go to, but you know, I’m going to make a better effort to not let things make me cranky. How’s that?”
“Okay. I had to be a big boy today a couple of times too.” That is his euphemism for getting topped off.
“I think you did an exemplary job. I should have paid more attention and told you at the time. Tell you what. How about when we get in, we go take a shower, wash the yucks off, and then have us some dinner?”
“Sounds good. I’m starving,” he said with a satisfied smiled.
You know the crowds in the national park could get rough on occasion. Too many people does make for the crankies. But usually we stayed out of the crowds for the most part by hiking. But I sense something has changed. I know the news isn’t fun to listen to, but I might need to dial in a little more than I have been. Not just focus on our personal situation, but the world at large. I’ve got the blasted satellite radio. I should be using it for more than music, old time radio shows, and the all Elvis 24/7 stations. I also used the “ship to store” strategy again to save having to wade upstream like a salmon.
TODAY’S SURVIVAL SKILL: Dealing with crowds and situational awareness.
Resources:
The Alamo
Things to Do in San Antonio | Visit San Antonio
I almost gave into the urge to splurge and take Benny to Sea World – San Antonio until I was checking last night and found out the price of tickets. Good grief. No wonder Dad never took me to the theme parks. Even if we hadn’t had to get a hotel room for the night it would have cost us the utilities just to get through the gate, much less food and drink for the day.
Instead, I took Benny and went to The Alamo. Not only was it free but it had some historically redeeming aspects. It took us forty-five minutes to get there from our campsite. Parking was an issue, but I expected it to be and had called ahead for recommendations of a nearby parking area with security. It opened at 9 am and we spent two hours there.
The Alamo was centrally located in downtown San Antonio, and featured interactive tours and exhibits and was even hosting a reenactment of the Texas Revolution while we were there. Founded in 1718 as the first mission in San Antonio, the Alamo served as a way station between east Texas and Mexico. From that point in the descriptions, the sign-thingies got a little flowery and romanticized. In 1836, decades after the mission had closed, the Alamo became an inspiration and a motivation for liberty during the Texas Revolution. For 13 days in 1836, close to 200 Texas defenders held the Alamo from approximately 2,500 of General Santa Anna’s troops from Mexico. The most famous of the defenders, William Travis, James Bowie, and David Crockett, died fighting overwhelming odds for freedom. Today, visitors are invited to rediscover the gem of Texas history, stroll through the 4.2-acre complex and Alamo Gardens.
Immediately afterwards I had a surprise for Benny. I had seen the hop on hop off buses in DC and had done some research on them. To avoid having to move the van around from a cheap parking garage to a different parking spot each time we wanted to experience something new, I decided to give the hop off hop on in San Antonio a try. The tour stops included:
- We were lucky that Stop #1 was The Alamo. We had already done the tour there so hopped on to start the tour. If you don’t get off, it takes approximately 60 minutes to do a full loop and they ran until 5:30 so we had plenty of time.
- Stop #2 was the Pearl Entertainment Complex. It is called a culinary and cultural destination along the banks of the river. We didn’t get off, but it was a place I was thinking about doing on our next loop.
- Stop #3 was the San Antonio Museum of Art. Definitely a city landmark but nothing we were interested in doing.
- Stop #4 was VFW Post 76, the oldest Veterans of Foreign Wars Post in the United States. Again, interesting but I wasn’t getting off for it. I was still being careful with Benny. Occasionally while at the Alamo I watched him zone out a bit and not because things were over his head.
- Stop #5 was Augie’s BBQ Restaurant, what the guidebooks and websites call a San Antonio favorite with down home Texas atmosphere and live music.
“You think they have our order ready?” I asked Benny who had been eyeing my backpack like he was wondering if there was lunch in there.
“Aunt Gus?” he asked. “Have you got a surprise?” he asked suspiciously.
I laughed and said, “Online ordering is what Grandma Barry used to call Da Bomb.”
“That’s weird,” giving me the same face I used to give Grandma Barry when she would say stuff like that.
“It’s just how old folks talk. They use slang that they used as kids and forget to everyone else that’s like ancient history.”
“It’s weird. Why would we want our food to explode?” I just laughed, remembering I’d asked my grandmother something similar and how it had made my grandfather and father just laugh and laugh.
Eating was a bit of a challenge, but I came prepared. I pulled a plastic tablecloth out of my backpack that we’ve used multiple times when we’d had picnic lunches during a hike or at an overlook. A parking lot isn’t much different from a concrete pullout and we were both hungry enough that it was easy to ignore some of the odd looks we got. The looks got odder when we picked up where we’d been sitting and left it better than we found it. Wetnaps and hand sanitizer took care of the minimal mess and we were ready to get back on the HOHO (hop on hop off) when the bus pulled up a few minutes later.
- Stop #6 was Museum Reach at Wyndham Garden Hotel, the northern section of the River Walk with beautiful landscapes, hiking and biking trails, restaurants and more. I marked it as a spot to potentially return to.
- Stop #7 was the Tobin Center, basically a performing arts center. That was a nope, so we kept our seats.
- Stop #8 was the Veterans Memorial Park where the memorials to the Korean War and Vietnam War were located. We did hop off here but not for long. I know Benny is sensitive, but I have to show him that respect is important enough that we should try and overcome our hard memories.
- Stop #9 was a bit of history, Travis Park and the St. Anthony Hotel. Here you could visit the first fully air-conditioned hotel in the world. Their elite clientele has included Presidents Eisenhower and Johnson as well as Eleanor Roosevelt, Judy Garland, Princess Grace. No, we didn’t get off and it gave me a headache trying to explain to Benny who the famous people were. He kept asking but why are they famous? Just ‘cause they stayed at that ol’ hotel? I swear, now I know why Dad used to say I could make him feel older, faster than anyone else on the planet.
Stop #10 we did get off at. Buckhorn Saloon and Texas Ranger Museum is billed as an immersive Texas experience where you explore hundreds of animal species, the Texas Ranger Gallery and Ranger Town. Wasn’t cheap but was sure neat. At the Buckhorn Saloon the had a exotic animal collection that was kinda neat. There were a wide range of other things as well; the Texas Ranger Museum to the saloon, and cafe, to the gift shop and private event space - it’s no wonder that The Buckhorn Saloon and Museum has become one of the biggest attractions in downtown San Antonio. It is all Texas history all the time. As their advertising billboard says, “The Buckhorn Saloon Museum offers the full Texas experience for locals and tourists alike.”
In 2006, the Former Texas Rangers Association partnered with the Buckhorn Museum to open the Texas Ranger Museum. This was a really cool exhibit that offers the public the chance to see historic artifacts that span more than a century of Ranger history. While we went through it, we learned about notable Texas Rangers such as Ray Martinez, Joaquin Jackson, John B. Armstrong and Frank Hamer. And yes, I was left explaining the difference between a Texas Ranger and a Park Ranger. Benny did not approve of them using the same title. “If they are different then they should be called something different. They are making it confusing on purpose and that’s stupid.”
- Stop #11 was the River Walk & 'Selena Bridge'. We would be coming back to this spot but not until later.
- Stop #12 was the San Fernando Cathedral/Spanish Governor’s Palace. It was established in 1731 and is the oldest continuously functioning religious community in Texas. The Spanish Governor’s Palace was constructed in the early 18th century as the “Presidio San Antonio de Bejar”, under Spanish King Ferdinand VI.
- Stop #13 was Market Square/El Mercado and I had thought about getting off here, but wow was it busy. And I didn’t see a kid in sight. I decided to forgo it despite it being described as a location for authentic Mexican dining, music, and treasures.
- Stop #14 was another series of hotels.
- Stop #15 was the King William Historic District, an area known for its diverse community, art galleries, restaurants, and Victorian era homes. Again, not a kid in sight, not even a baby backpack or stroller. Gave it a pass.
- Stop #16 was Southtown, a “vibrant” neighborhood just blocks from the city's touristy epicenter but much farther away in spirit. Had no reason to stop there, especially after being warned by another tourist at the Alamo of the pickpockets that frequent the area.
- Stop #17 was Yanaguana Garden. Benny and I got off for a moment but instead of there being no kids, there were too many kids in the children's splash pool and playground. Benny was quickly overwhelmed and didn’t want to participate and started shutting down. I wasn’t going to make him. The kids – tourist and locals from the look – were more than a little rowdy. They were loud as heck as well. Don’t get me wrong, it was neat. It was just too much “neat” and the kids there were more hyper as a group than they were individually. We walked around for a few minutes and then went back to the bus stop.
- Stop #18 was more to Benny’s liking, the Tower of the Americas and La Villita. Our HOHO tickets came with a bonus ticket. The 750-foot-tall Tower of the Americas provided the most spectacular view of San Antonio. We enjoyed the panorama view from the Tower’s Observation Deck and also took in the 4D Theater Ride. La Villita is one of San Antonio’s first neighborhoods and now an artsy-fartsy center of town.
We rode the HOHO back around and then got off at #11 where we took in the River Walk on a narrated River Cruise which was another one of the perks I got for buying the HOHO tickets online. The ride only lasted 35 minutes so had I had to buy the tickets separately I’m not sure that I would have, but it was fun and interesting. Our guide was either very good about reciting his script or was knowledgeable about local history … or both. I think he was a college student because he had a UTSA bookstore bag tucked away near the “driver’s seat.”
After the “cruise” we hopped off and straight into a crowd of people doing the same thing we were, looking for something to eat. Casa Rio (it’s been around since the 1940s) was a place that I had thought about eating dinner, but we were running out of time, and we were still full from lunch. Then I spotted a small “food truck” type thing where you could order food to go. Their prices weren’t great, but they weren’t as awful as some of the other Riverwalk places I’d looked into. I decided to chance it and got several things to take back with us for dinner. Flautas (use corn tortillas), a small container of chili con carne with picadillo meat, an avocado salad, and one deluxe dinner to go. And just to make sure that I overspent, we stopped at Schilo’s – the oldest restaurant in San Antonio since it started in 1917 – and picked up a couple of bottles of their craft root beer.
Got a lot of comments from people on the bus about the smell coming out of the bag I had to buy to carry everything in. But we made it back to Stop #1 (the Alamo) before the 5:30 closing time and then made it to the van. I quickly put Benny in and locked the door despite the heat and did a quick turn with a stubby screwdriver head peeking through my knuckles for just in case. Carlsbad was a lesson I will never forget. Good thing I checked. Some mean idiot had wedged several large construction nails so that when I backed out they would blow all four of my tires. I looked around and saw more such booby traps on the other large vehicles near me. So much for onsite security.
Well someone had irritated me so I decided to do them the favor right back. I called the cops, the owners of the parking garage, the Alamo administrative offices, and several local businesses and told or left messages. I also took pictures of the booby traps and a picture of the guy in the security booth sitting there watching Telemundo instead of doing his job. And then I got on yelp, tripadvisor, BBB, and every other such site and left a message about how ineffective their so-called “on-site” security really was and that I would not recommend it and businesses shouldn’t recommend it either unless they were willing to accept liability for their inept security.
After leaving notes on the drivers’ side doors of the other cars that I’d seen vandalized with the boobies, I drove down to the garage entrance to meet the cop that I saw was talking to the security guard. The guard tried to say I was lying, but I showed the cop the pictures and vid I had taken. The guard called me a bitch in Spanish, and I told him in the same language to do the job he was getting paid to do or to get out of the way for someone who would. It always surprises people to find out I’m fluent in two languages. Just because I didn’t know my mother doesn’t mean I didn’t know some of her family. I wasn’t a teen yet when the last of them picked up and moved to Costa Rico. Dad wasn’t unhappy about it. He liked his sister in laws, wasn’t fond of their husbands though, and even as a kid I knew my cousins were all hellions on both sides of the family. There’s a reason why I could cuss like a sailor before I wanted to become one. Not proud of it, just stating a fact.
My temper finally cooled down and Benny and I headed back to our camp.
I was called back to my main purpose in life with Benny commented, “Do we have to go to anymore cities? They make you cranky.”
Oh crap. Be the good example Aunt Gus, not the example of what you shouldn’t be … especially a potty mouth. “Er … you know, that’s a good point. I apologize if I upset you. It wasn’t you I was upset with.”
“I know,” he said. “But they still make you cranky.”
“Yes, they do. And yes, we’ve got other cities to go to, but you know, I’m going to make a better effort to not let things make me cranky. How’s that?”
“Okay. I had to be a big boy today a couple of times too.” That is his euphemism for getting topped off.
“I think you did an exemplary job. I should have paid more attention and told you at the time. Tell you what. How about when we get in, we go take a shower, wash the yucks off, and then have us some dinner?”
“Sounds good. I’m starving,” he said with a satisfied smiled.
You know the crowds in the national park could get rough on occasion. Too many people does make for the crankies. But usually we stayed out of the crowds for the most part by hiking. But I sense something has changed. I know the news isn’t fun to listen to, but I might need to dial in a little more than I have been. Not just focus on our personal situation, but the world at large. I’ve got the blasted satellite radio. I should be using it for more than music, old time radio shows, and the all Elvis 24/7 stations. I also used the “ship to store” strategy again to save having to wade upstream like a salmon.
TODAY’S SURVIVAL SKILL: Dealing with crowds and situational awareness.
Resources:
The Alamo
Things to Do in San Antonio | Visit San Antonio
Oct 11 Natural Bridge Caverns >> Dallas, TX
Driving Route:
Oct 11th – Columbus Day
Dad told me when I was a kid that they almost got rid of this holiday because it offended some people. But then they didn’t because people realized that they wouldn’t get a paid day off work. Then they did when they found a different holiday to replace it. Then that one was gotten rid of. Go figure. There is just some history that is too strange.
I kinda hate to keep using the KOAs but then again not. The full hook ups help even though I’m paying for them. They are crowded but I haven’t been to one yet that isn’t nice and clean and with perks. They also allow me to rest better, like staying in an above average hotel instead of say a Motel 6 that hasn’t seen a renovation since it was built in the 1970s.
Well, I’ve followed through on one thing for sure; I’m listening to the news more. Getting informed has kinda sucked. There were some articles on the news last night that didn’t make it easy to sleep. And on the RV and camping forums there are stories of a lot more people being on the move, trying to find affordable housing and jobs. People are saying to remain situationally aware and a reminder that just because you are on vacation doesn’t mean the people in the campsite beside you are.
Lots of grifting stories out there too. That one came from someone who said they were the victim of a tow company that had been making work for themselves. Hmmm. I chimed in with the nail story and other people said thank you and they’d be on the lookout. It has made me think once again. I might not have a problem camping in certain places or boondocking as they call it, but it isn’t as safe as it once was or as I once thought it was, and I have Benny to think of.
Today we moved our location to Dallas, TX but first I found another cave tour. Natural Bridge Caverns had a combo ticket, that because I purchased it further out and online, was over ten dollars cheaper than had I bought it on location. Good deal Lucille. That may not sound like a lot, but I have had to face facts. I’ve got a set budget for the remainder of Big Adventure. It has a little wiggle room in it, but we aren’t Rockefellers. Every extra dollar I can save – especially now that the digital currencies are destabilizing again - – is an extra dollar that could mean the difference from a bowl of rice and a bowl of rice with some beans in it.
The first tour at Natural Bridge Caverns was called the Discovery Tour. It was advertised this way: Travel through a half-mile of the largest and most spectacular show cavern in Texas. You'll walk 180 feet below the ground, while listening to our knowledgeable tour guide. See awe-inspiring, ancient formations centuries in the making and still growing today, such as amazing stalagmites, stalactites, flowstones, chandeliers and soda straws. Take pictures along the way because this is one walk through time that you will never want to forget.
The second tour was called the Hidden Passages tour and you got the same treatment in the description: On the Hidden Passages Tour, light and darkness combine to enhance your exploration of huge underground chambers decorated with some of our most rare and delicate formations. The Hidden Passages are highly decorated with unusually long 'soda straw' stalactites, waves of 'cave ribbon' and a profusion of intriguing 'welt and turnip shields.' Another unique experience only offered on this tour occurs when all the lights are turned off and you experience total darkness. You haven't seen all of Natural Bridge Caverns until you have experienced the Hidden Passages. Tours leave every 40 minutes and take approximately 60 to 70 minutes.
That made it a total of about 2 hours for us underground, but there were also surface activities. There was a long line for the zip rails, so we skipped that (and the price tag) and instead had fun finding our way out of the 5000 square foot maze. We were laughing by the time we got out and then Benny saw it, another one of those gem mines. He obviously wanted to do it again but wouldn’t ask. I think he has heard me muttering about money too many times. And no, it wasn’t cheap and was kind of corny, but he rarely asks for things. So, Aunt Gus bought him a bag called the Mother Lode. I took a picture, and his eyes nearly filled the entire screen. LOL. Ten ounces of assorted gems and minerals, four ounces of fossil mix, sharks teeth, 2 arrowheads and 1 large Amethyst Druzy. “Aunt Gus! Look what I found!” “Aunt Gus! Look at this!” “Aunt Gus!” I tell you it made my day. And we got a special capsule to put his finds in from the Trading Post.
We ate lunch made of leftovers from yesterday’s meals alongside a smoothie I made from the fruit in the frig that needed to be eaten before it went bad. Then it was time to get on the road to Dallas, TX.
I found out when we pulled in that today was the last day of the pool season and said to the heck with it. I parked in our spot at the KOA and rather than setting up, Benny and I quickly climbed into our swim clothes and headed straight to the water. It was incredibly hot for what we had grown accustomed to; 97F was the high and only 72F for the low. Others agreed that it was unseasonably warm.
Both Benny and I swam off the long drive. While in the pool I listened to several men complain about the close of Major League Baseball but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because it wasn’t what it used to be. They were once again pandering to the so-called socially liberal population (aka the old term “wokesters”) by getting political despite the fact that the tactic has never worked in the past and nearly bankrupted professional sports multiple times. There was also a fight that I quickly removed Benny from being near. I guess my move must have woken the “wives” up who got things back under control.
But it was time for Benny and I to get gone. For whatever reason that “near fight” gave far too many people the opening to start complaining about other things including politics. I asked Benny if he felt like walking to pick up some dinner. He smiled. “My wiggles are hungry.” LOL. Little Stinker.
Across the street was a hole in the wall called the Kabob House. They were more than happy to package a kid-sized serving of rice and chicken kabobs. I had the beef and onion kabobs. And as something different I also ordered the rice pudding. While the order was being prepared, I went into a nearby “Dollar Store” to knock some things off my list. My cheap little dustpan and brush disappeared. I suspect I might have accidentally thrown it away or left it in camp, either way I had to replace it. I got a couple of bottles of dish soap. The big bag of glow sticks needed to be refilled as I used them to track Benny when we went to the bathrooms or showers when not in a hotel room. Benny was due some new coloring books (he chose one full of geometric designs) and markers, pencils, and the like. “I can have these?!”
“Hey, you are helpful and follow the rules. And right now, I can do stuff for you Benny. I might not at some point, and I want you to have good memories.”
“You are good memories Aunt Gus.”
“You’re good memories too Little Bear.” Geez I love the kid. Maybe I’ll never birth a kid, but I’m finding that’s okay because Benny is every bit as good as if I had. I’ll never replace his parents, don’t want to, but it feels like I’m their representative. I want to stand before the Creator and be able to say, “I loved him and I did the best I could, even when that meant I had to be tough.” I know there is more to it than that, but it is too hard to put it into words. Getting that emotional makes the hamster in my head want to do the macarena.
I picked up some additional office supplies for my stash as well. A few bottles of hand soap. A few roles of duct tape. You can never have too much duct tape. I picked up a couple of camp lighters. I added a couple of packages of poly rope. It was cheap stuff but useful and if you melted the ends or the knot you had tied, you have to cut it to get it off. I picked up some plastic food containers as the ones that we’d been using were cracking from all the use on the trail. I just had a feeling and picked up some OTC drugs. Don’t know why but it filled a hole that had been bothering me. Cotton balls and q-tips. Paper goods such as garbage bags, aluminum foil, butcher paper, parchment paper. In the cold case I grabbed some country ham, kielbasa, and I just about fell out when I saw they had yucca.
In the same complex there was a Dollar General that carried fresh groceries on the very end that I went to after picking up our dinner. I picked up two dozen eggs, some frozen vegetables, canned chicken, some canned veggies, honey, canned spam, canned pineapple (rings, tidbits, crushed), canned salmon, canned tuna, canned fruit packed in 100% juice, Jell-o that had fruit mixed in, milk, cream cheese, two bags of ye ol’ potatoes, pepperoni, shredded cheese, lemon juice, lime juice, carrots, and bananas. I would have gotten more but I couldn’t carry more. By the time we get back to the van I was ready to just chill, but I still had things to do … one of them feeding a hungry six-year-old.
Dinner was the easy part. Open take-out container. Hand said starving six-year-old a plastic spork that came with the take-out and pour him some milk. Add a real napkin instead of a paper towel and it was practically haute cuisine. My dinner was just as easy. Clean up was nearly as easy as the only complicating factor was washing out our drinking cups because trust me, there were no leftovers.
I set Benny up a documentary he could watch with headphones that drowned out the squabbling that could be heard from the RV site next to us. Sounded like a bunch of chickens. That gave me time to put away our purchases while I listened to the news. I should have popped an antacid before I started.
There was a bunch of noise but essentially it boils down to Florida having a hard time recovering from the hurricanes and tropical storms the state was run over by this year and as bad off as they are, several states are even worse. The drought in the West and Mid-West, despite the flooding that happened around Montana and Idaho, is causing food prices to skyrocket – as if I couldn’t see that for myself. The digital currencies around the world are getting a little wonky causing the futures that involve the import/export side of things to be depressing. The government is promising to pour some money on it to put the fire out but the talking heads for the news networks are wondering, similar to times past, if that will be more like pouring fuel on the fire.
I’m worried. I need a job and to get a job I need to be able to find us a stable living situation. We really haven’t had one since Lawrence didn’t come home. Key West was more like a version of couch surfing. What we are doing now is only a temporary fix. It can’t last forever without some type of income to back it up. Even seasonal work to continue traveling requires a temporarily stable location. I keep putting out some feelers. The job boards have listings but I don’t have the experience in most of the ones that would pay the bills. My age continues to complicate things. I need to find a way to widen my horizons. I just hope I don’t take us off the edge of the planet.
Resources:
Natural Bridge Caverns | Naturally Amazing
Driving Route:
Oct 11th – Columbus Day
Dad told me when I was a kid that they almost got rid of this holiday because it offended some people. But then they didn’t because people realized that they wouldn’t get a paid day off work. Then they did when they found a different holiday to replace it. Then that one was gotten rid of. Go figure. There is just some history that is too strange.
I kinda hate to keep using the KOAs but then again not. The full hook ups help even though I’m paying for them. They are crowded but I haven’t been to one yet that isn’t nice and clean and with perks. They also allow me to rest better, like staying in an above average hotel instead of say a Motel 6 that hasn’t seen a renovation since it was built in the 1970s.
Well, I’ve followed through on one thing for sure; I’m listening to the news more. Getting informed has kinda sucked. There were some articles on the news last night that didn’t make it easy to sleep. And on the RV and camping forums there are stories of a lot more people being on the move, trying to find affordable housing and jobs. People are saying to remain situationally aware and a reminder that just because you are on vacation doesn’t mean the people in the campsite beside you are.
Lots of grifting stories out there too. That one came from someone who said they were the victim of a tow company that had been making work for themselves. Hmmm. I chimed in with the nail story and other people said thank you and they’d be on the lookout. It has made me think once again. I might not have a problem camping in certain places or boondocking as they call it, but it isn’t as safe as it once was or as I once thought it was, and I have Benny to think of.
Today we moved our location to Dallas, TX but first I found another cave tour. Natural Bridge Caverns had a combo ticket, that because I purchased it further out and online, was over ten dollars cheaper than had I bought it on location. Good deal Lucille. That may not sound like a lot, but I have had to face facts. I’ve got a set budget for the remainder of Big Adventure. It has a little wiggle room in it, but we aren’t Rockefellers. Every extra dollar I can save – especially now that the digital currencies are destabilizing again - – is an extra dollar that could mean the difference from a bowl of rice and a bowl of rice with some beans in it.
The first tour at Natural Bridge Caverns was called the Discovery Tour. It was advertised this way: Travel through a half-mile of the largest and most spectacular show cavern in Texas. You'll walk 180 feet below the ground, while listening to our knowledgeable tour guide. See awe-inspiring, ancient formations centuries in the making and still growing today, such as amazing stalagmites, stalactites, flowstones, chandeliers and soda straws. Take pictures along the way because this is one walk through time that you will never want to forget.
The second tour was called the Hidden Passages tour and you got the same treatment in the description: On the Hidden Passages Tour, light and darkness combine to enhance your exploration of huge underground chambers decorated with some of our most rare and delicate formations. The Hidden Passages are highly decorated with unusually long 'soda straw' stalactites, waves of 'cave ribbon' and a profusion of intriguing 'welt and turnip shields.' Another unique experience only offered on this tour occurs when all the lights are turned off and you experience total darkness. You haven't seen all of Natural Bridge Caverns until you have experienced the Hidden Passages. Tours leave every 40 minutes and take approximately 60 to 70 minutes.
That made it a total of about 2 hours for us underground, but there were also surface activities. There was a long line for the zip rails, so we skipped that (and the price tag) and instead had fun finding our way out of the 5000 square foot maze. We were laughing by the time we got out and then Benny saw it, another one of those gem mines. He obviously wanted to do it again but wouldn’t ask. I think he has heard me muttering about money too many times. And no, it wasn’t cheap and was kind of corny, but he rarely asks for things. So, Aunt Gus bought him a bag called the Mother Lode. I took a picture, and his eyes nearly filled the entire screen. LOL. Ten ounces of assorted gems and minerals, four ounces of fossil mix, sharks teeth, 2 arrowheads and 1 large Amethyst Druzy. “Aunt Gus! Look what I found!” “Aunt Gus! Look at this!” “Aunt Gus!” I tell you it made my day. And we got a special capsule to put his finds in from the Trading Post.
We ate lunch made of leftovers from yesterday’s meals alongside a smoothie I made from the fruit in the frig that needed to be eaten before it went bad. Then it was time to get on the road to Dallas, TX.
I found out when we pulled in that today was the last day of the pool season and said to the heck with it. I parked in our spot at the KOA and rather than setting up, Benny and I quickly climbed into our swim clothes and headed straight to the water. It was incredibly hot for what we had grown accustomed to; 97F was the high and only 72F for the low. Others agreed that it was unseasonably warm.
Both Benny and I swam off the long drive. While in the pool I listened to several men complain about the close of Major League Baseball but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing because it wasn’t what it used to be. They were once again pandering to the so-called socially liberal population (aka the old term “wokesters”) by getting political despite the fact that the tactic has never worked in the past and nearly bankrupted professional sports multiple times. There was also a fight that I quickly removed Benny from being near. I guess my move must have woken the “wives” up who got things back under control.
But it was time for Benny and I to get gone. For whatever reason that “near fight” gave far too many people the opening to start complaining about other things including politics. I asked Benny if he felt like walking to pick up some dinner. He smiled. “My wiggles are hungry.” LOL. Little Stinker.
Across the street was a hole in the wall called the Kabob House. They were more than happy to package a kid-sized serving of rice and chicken kabobs. I had the beef and onion kabobs. And as something different I also ordered the rice pudding. While the order was being prepared, I went into a nearby “Dollar Store” to knock some things off my list. My cheap little dustpan and brush disappeared. I suspect I might have accidentally thrown it away or left it in camp, either way I had to replace it. I got a couple of bottles of dish soap. The big bag of glow sticks needed to be refilled as I used them to track Benny when we went to the bathrooms or showers when not in a hotel room. Benny was due some new coloring books (he chose one full of geometric designs) and markers, pencils, and the like. “I can have these?!”
“Hey, you are helpful and follow the rules. And right now, I can do stuff for you Benny. I might not at some point, and I want you to have good memories.”
“You are good memories Aunt Gus.”
“You’re good memories too Little Bear.” Geez I love the kid. Maybe I’ll never birth a kid, but I’m finding that’s okay because Benny is every bit as good as if I had. I’ll never replace his parents, don’t want to, but it feels like I’m their representative. I want to stand before the Creator and be able to say, “I loved him and I did the best I could, even when that meant I had to be tough.” I know there is more to it than that, but it is too hard to put it into words. Getting that emotional makes the hamster in my head want to do the macarena.
I picked up some additional office supplies for my stash as well. A few bottles of hand soap. A few roles of duct tape. You can never have too much duct tape. I picked up a couple of camp lighters. I added a couple of packages of poly rope. It was cheap stuff but useful and if you melted the ends or the knot you had tied, you have to cut it to get it off. I picked up some plastic food containers as the ones that we’d been using were cracking from all the use on the trail. I just had a feeling and picked up some OTC drugs. Don’t know why but it filled a hole that had been bothering me. Cotton balls and q-tips. Paper goods such as garbage bags, aluminum foil, butcher paper, parchment paper. In the cold case I grabbed some country ham, kielbasa, and I just about fell out when I saw they had yucca.
In the same complex there was a Dollar General that carried fresh groceries on the very end that I went to after picking up our dinner. I picked up two dozen eggs, some frozen vegetables, canned chicken, some canned veggies, honey, canned spam, canned pineapple (rings, tidbits, crushed), canned salmon, canned tuna, canned fruit packed in 100% juice, Jell-o that had fruit mixed in, milk, cream cheese, two bags of ye ol’ potatoes, pepperoni, shredded cheese, lemon juice, lime juice, carrots, and bananas. I would have gotten more but I couldn’t carry more. By the time we get back to the van I was ready to just chill, but I still had things to do … one of them feeding a hungry six-year-old.
Dinner was the easy part. Open take-out container. Hand said starving six-year-old a plastic spork that came with the take-out and pour him some milk. Add a real napkin instead of a paper towel and it was practically haute cuisine. My dinner was just as easy. Clean up was nearly as easy as the only complicating factor was washing out our drinking cups because trust me, there were no leftovers.
I set Benny up a documentary he could watch with headphones that drowned out the squabbling that could be heard from the RV site next to us. Sounded like a bunch of chickens. That gave me time to put away our purchases while I listened to the news. I should have popped an antacid before I started.
There was a bunch of noise but essentially it boils down to Florida having a hard time recovering from the hurricanes and tropical storms the state was run over by this year and as bad off as they are, several states are even worse. The drought in the West and Mid-West, despite the flooding that happened around Montana and Idaho, is causing food prices to skyrocket – as if I couldn’t see that for myself. The digital currencies around the world are getting a little wonky causing the futures that involve the import/export side of things to be depressing. The government is promising to pour some money on it to put the fire out but the talking heads for the news networks are wondering, similar to times past, if that will be more like pouring fuel on the fire.
I’m worried. I need a job and to get a job I need to be able to find us a stable living situation. We really haven’t had one since Lawrence didn’t come home. Key West was more like a version of couch surfing. What we are doing now is only a temporary fix. It can’t last forever without some type of income to back it up. Even seasonal work to continue traveling requires a temporarily stable location. I keep putting out some feelers. The job boards have listings but I don’t have the experience in most of the ones that would pay the bills. My age continues to complicate things. I need to find a way to widen my horizons. I just hope I don’t take us off the edge of the planet.
Resources:
Natural Bridge Caverns | Naturally Amazing
Oct 12 Dallas, TX >> Shreveport, LA
Driving Route:
October 12th
Found out we won another free night at KOA and decided to use it to break up the drive by stopping in Shreveport, Louisiana on our way to Arkansas.
Woke up this morning also to find out the day would be considerably cooler than yesterday, only 80F as a high. A dry cold front had gone through overnight. I heard some worries that rain was needed but parts of the Gulf were still muddy from the hurricane that ran roughshod over Key West then had hung out in the Gulf long enough to power up and grow big enough that when it turned right and crossed the state, it crossed the whole state and dumped an unbelievable amount of water. I had plans to do a few touristy things before leaving Dallas but hearing there were not one, not two, but three active shooter incidences in play in the city convinced me that getting out and down the road was much better.
For fuel I stopped at the Love’s Travel Stop off of I20 and 314 and then finished the drive to the Bossier City KOA in Shreveport. But before signing in I went to the wallyworld immediately adjacent to the KOA to pick up the ship-to-store order that I had placed back in San Antonio. Before leaving I picked up enough fresh and frozen items for two weeks as well as some extra to dry on the Excalibur since we had electric hook up, as well as a case of mineral water. I also stopped at the Cracker Barrel restaurant at the same exit and picked up some old-fashioned candies and sodas. I know that sounds crazy given the worry I have for the future, but I am determined to provide a few more weeks of adventure and fun for Benny and I to have as memories in the future. It wasn’t a splurge, the dollars were already in the budget to spend. I just rearranged them from one pot to a different pot.
Saw signs for a farmer’s market outside of Shreveport and that was our next stop. It had about seventy-five vendors and a good selection of fruits and veggies though it wasn’t much cheaper than ye ol’ wallyworld. The difference is that a lot of it was local, and it all seemed to be better quality. There was also a lot of homemade items like salsa, bakery stalls (and one of them was a gluten-free-only vendor), preserves and juices and ciders, then there were a couple of locally harvested honey vendors, a couple of homemade soaps and salves, and a few other odds and ends. There was a vendor there selling home-packaged freeze-dried items like freeze dried candies, freeze dried strawberries, and things like that. Lucky for us a few of the ship-to-store items hadn’t come in (and wouldn’t as they were out of stock, so I got my money back) so I was able to pay with the “digital currency” slips I was refunded with.
I wish the government would make up its ever-loving mind. Are we going to go to a completely digital currency or will there still be “cash” allowed? And is a digital currency really digital if you get refunded with hard copies of paper slips that can be spent like cash? Makes no sense to me.
From the farmer’s market we headed to the KOA. It doesn’t have as many amenities as other KOAs that we’ve been at, but what it has is what we needed. Laundry. Showers. Hook ups. Free wifi. A playground (the pool closed last month).
I set the dehydrator up as soon as the hook ups were plugged in. I would love to have a freeze dryer like Grandma Barry and Meemo shared but no way would it work in the van. Plus, most people don’t know you have to freeze stuff in a real freezer before you can put it in the freeze-dryer unless you want to take from today until Juvember for each load to finish. I don’t have enough room for that kind of set up. Like Dad was a little fond of saying, “Wish in one hand, poop in the other, and see which one weighs the most.” Dad could be as salty as Grandfather Barry on occasion. Okay, almost as salty; but he did have his moments.
Mostly I’ve dedicated this day to clean up and reorganizing and working on my lists. I’ve listened to the news some but about all they do is repeat the same thing in cycles. Heard a little more about the damage from the hurricanes and it makes me glad we weren’t in Key West or Jacksonville. Not sure any place in Florida was spared because if it isn’t physical damage, it is economic damage. Finally called the storage facility and our bay/unit is okay. A few of the units were damaged but we weren’t one of them. I suppose that counts for something, but I have no way of knowing when I’ll ever have a place to move that stuff to. They did tell me they are going up on the rent as soon as the storage unit lease is up. That was not a happy thing to find out, but at the same time I always budget for it because I’ve never been any place where rent goes down.
I’m just about news’d out. If I could just find a concrete plan for our future. I am getting more responses to my applications but it is all “thanks but no thanks”. Lots of reasons … my age, lack of a permanent address, lack of experience, lack of a degree or certain type of certificate, they are going to hire internally, I can’t start until the beginning of November, they are in a hiring freeze, etc ad nauseum. I have not and will not give up but geez, talk about depressing.
Driving Route:
October 12th
Found out we won another free night at KOA and decided to use it to break up the drive by stopping in Shreveport, Louisiana on our way to Arkansas.
Woke up this morning also to find out the day would be considerably cooler than yesterday, only 80F as a high. A dry cold front had gone through overnight. I heard some worries that rain was needed but parts of the Gulf were still muddy from the hurricane that ran roughshod over Key West then had hung out in the Gulf long enough to power up and grow big enough that when it turned right and crossed the state, it crossed the whole state and dumped an unbelievable amount of water. I had plans to do a few touristy things before leaving Dallas but hearing there were not one, not two, but three active shooter incidences in play in the city convinced me that getting out and down the road was much better.
For fuel I stopped at the Love’s Travel Stop off of I20 and 314 and then finished the drive to the Bossier City KOA in Shreveport. But before signing in I went to the wallyworld immediately adjacent to the KOA to pick up the ship-to-store order that I had placed back in San Antonio. Before leaving I picked up enough fresh and frozen items for two weeks as well as some extra to dry on the Excalibur since we had electric hook up, as well as a case of mineral water. I also stopped at the Cracker Barrel restaurant at the same exit and picked up some old-fashioned candies and sodas. I know that sounds crazy given the worry I have for the future, but I am determined to provide a few more weeks of adventure and fun for Benny and I to have as memories in the future. It wasn’t a splurge, the dollars were already in the budget to spend. I just rearranged them from one pot to a different pot.
Saw signs for a farmer’s market outside of Shreveport and that was our next stop. It had about seventy-five vendors and a good selection of fruits and veggies though it wasn’t much cheaper than ye ol’ wallyworld. The difference is that a lot of it was local, and it all seemed to be better quality. There was also a lot of homemade items like salsa, bakery stalls (and one of them was a gluten-free-only vendor), preserves and juices and ciders, then there were a couple of locally harvested honey vendors, a couple of homemade soaps and salves, and a few other odds and ends. There was a vendor there selling home-packaged freeze-dried items like freeze dried candies, freeze dried strawberries, and things like that. Lucky for us a few of the ship-to-store items hadn’t come in (and wouldn’t as they were out of stock, so I got my money back) so I was able to pay with the “digital currency” slips I was refunded with.
I wish the government would make up its ever-loving mind. Are we going to go to a completely digital currency or will there still be “cash” allowed? And is a digital currency really digital if you get refunded with hard copies of paper slips that can be spent like cash? Makes no sense to me.
From the farmer’s market we headed to the KOA. It doesn’t have as many amenities as other KOAs that we’ve been at, but what it has is what we needed. Laundry. Showers. Hook ups. Free wifi. A playground (the pool closed last month).
I set the dehydrator up as soon as the hook ups were plugged in. I would love to have a freeze dryer like Grandma Barry and Meemo shared but no way would it work in the van. Plus, most people don’t know you have to freeze stuff in a real freezer before you can put it in the freeze-dryer unless you want to take from today until Juvember for each load to finish. I don’t have enough room for that kind of set up. Like Dad was a little fond of saying, “Wish in one hand, poop in the other, and see which one weighs the most.” Dad could be as salty as Grandfather Barry on occasion. Okay, almost as salty; but he did have his moments.
Mostly I’ve dedicated this day to clean up and reorganizing and working on my lists. I’ve listened to the news some but about all they do is repeat the same thing in cycles. Heard a little more about the damage from the hurricanes and it makes me glad we weren’t in Key West or Jacksonville. Not sure any place in Florida was spared because if it isn’t physical damage, it is economic damage. Finally called the storage facility and our bay/unit is okay. A few of the units were damaged but we weren’t one of them. I suppose that counts for something, but I have no way of knowing when I’ll ever have a place to move that stuff to. They did tell me they are going up on the rent as soon as the storage unit lease is up. That was not a happy thing to find out, but at the same time I always budget for it because I’ve never been any place where rent goes down.
I’m just about news’d out. If I could just find a concrete plan for our future. I am getting more responses to my applications but it is all “thanks but no thanks”. Lots of reasons … my age, lack of a permanent address, lack of experience, lack of a degree or certain type of certificate, they are going to hire internally, I can’t start until the beginning of November, they are in a hiring freeze, etc ad nauseum. I have not and will not give up but geez, talk about depressing.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Big thanks, nice to read while eating a late lunch.
Oct 13 – 15: Hot Springs National Park, Arkansas
Driving Route:
October 13th
People are idiots. I can’t say it any plainer than that. And they double down on their idiocy far way too much. Found out from the company I pay to monitor my online reputation and all that other junk that the idiots from Big Bend tried to come back around for some more. Also found out that someone at the company is taking this personally and the company is now going after the turds civilly on my behalf. Their blog is now de-platformed and off the air, and their sponsors have dropped them after learning the details of the crap they pulled. And apparently I’m not the only one the turd holes have done this to though not to the extent of getting in trouble with the feds for false reports. Or at least doing to me what they did was their first time getting caught at it. I was told that if anyone tries to contact me regarding the matter, regardless of who they purport to be, I am to simply forward the contact, by whatever means it reaches me, to Ms. I. M. Pissed who is professionally T’d off and is turning this into a vendetta. Ugh.
Not really something I’m interested in pursuing but when you sign with that company you agree to pursue the Reputation Vandals to the fullest extent of the law. I signed for it, I’m just going to have to suck it up I guess. I did tell her that I wasn’t interested in any kind of media coverage and they agreed but can’t control what the person and/or their lawyer might do from the other side. Great. Just what I wanted to hear.
That’s what I dealt with for most of the three-hour drive between Shreveport and Hot Springs National Park in Arkansas. Oh well, life is just a bowl of that funky jello with weird stuff in it, that the old ladies in the church always bring to the potluck. I mean seriously … nuts and cottage cheese is not what a kid is looking for in their jello. Squirrel! Yeah, been that kind of day as well.
First thing we did was stop at the Fordyce Bathhouse Visitor Center to pick up Benny’s Junior Ranger Program booklet. He’s still zooming on getting as many badges as he can. He knows that the end of the month is the end of our adventure but for a kid his age that is like a million years away. I’m going to stretch it as much as I can but I have to admit I am getting a little sick to my stomach worrying at it.
Okay Gus, ‘nuff of that. Focus chick. Focus.
Hot Springs National Park is … different. It is what is called an urban park. The sign-thingie explains it as being “nestled in the heart of downtown Hot Springs, the National Park is surrounded by shops, diners, roads, and other attractions. There is a network of hiking trails and beautiful mountain overlooks for those looking to escape the feeling of city life that is also a part of the Park.” Yeah, pretty crazy. It also doesn’t have an entrance fee because it is basically just part of the city. Parking is free, there are cellphone trails, pets are welcome in most locations. Camping is first come first serve except for a very limited number of sites and Aunt Gus reserved one of those a long time ago because her OCD self was unwell to leave it to chance.
Guess what? Hernando de Soto was the first European explorer to visit Hot Springs in 1541. The same Hernando de Soto that explored Florida that I used to know all these interesting things about but have since forgotten. I told Benny I handed the Baton of Knowledge off to him and he can look that stuff up on his tablet. For some reason he thought that was hilarious. Glad I still entertain the kid.
There are only two bathhouses you can soak in the hot springs at; Buckstaff and Quapaw. Not sure if we will do that or not. There are several thermal spring fountains and Benny and I had on our day’s list to taste them all since they are free. We decided that while it might be gross, might not, but what the heck else were we going to do? There are also two cold spring fountains. And yeppers, we’ll taste them as well.
And the final two we found out about is where you can touch the thermal waters though no wading allowed. Within the Park, there are 2 places where you can touch the thermal water. Even though the water comes out of the ground at 147 degrees F, it is cool enough to touch by the time it reaches the pools. I wonder how cool is “cool enough”? We’ll check that one out but I’ll be shooting it with a no-touch thermometer before Benny and I stick our hands in it.
We made a list of the fountains. I left the van parked near the visitor center and we walked to all of the Hot Springs:
Benny was really funny when I told him we were going up in the Hot Springs Mountain Tower. He was so enthralled with the Junior Ranger stuff in the visitor center that he didn’t see me purchase tickets. From the Happy Hollow cold spring we walked the 1.4 miles to the tower. I’m glad we walked because the tower parking lot was busy. Apparently the tower is the thing to do in Hot Springs. When it was our turn, the tower elevator took us up 216 feet to the observation decks. Okay, kinda silly and touristy I suppose but the view was pretty awesome. We saw the Ouachita Mountains, Hot Springs Mountain, and Diamond Lakes area.
Took less time walking back that it had going up and then I drove the van back to the visitor center, snagged another parking spot, and we walked off a hot chocolate with an excess of marshmallows I had made the mistake in buying. Wowzer. Whatever they had put in those cups had both Benny and I Wiggles Shuffle, I kid you not.
The different places we went in were the All Things Arkansas gift shop, the Bathhouse Row Emporium, the Gangster Museum where I got a picture of Benny dressed up like a 1920’s/30’s mini Capone with a Tommy Gun and the rest. I can only site complete insanity at buying a gluten-free cupcake at Fat Bottom Girls’ Cupcake Shoppe. At least it wasn’t one of their red velvet ones they are famous for. The KOA Campground was right there in the middle of things. Ginger’s Popcorn Shoppe had the flavors I used to eat with my Crew … hot, spicy, and enough sugar to wind up us and send us off. But no, the cupcake at topped out my crazy meter and the prices for popcorn of all things kept my temptation at bay. It did make me think of how I could replicate some of the flavors I had seen on offer. I’ve got notes, I just don’t have the ingredients yet.
The Pour Some Sugar on Me sweet shoppe was another place that just the smell of it nearly put Benny into overdrive. There was gummi bears, jelly beans, and tons of other candy as well. The cotton candy alone nearly sent me into catatonia. Apple pie, honey lavender, tiger’s blood (I was afraid to ask what it tasted like), blueberry peach, dragonfruit, pistachio, chocolate-caramel-pecan, peach, oreo, watermelon, orange cream, blue raspberry, pecan praline, pina colada, birthday cake, red velvet, and one of the most popular … insulation. Yes, I said Insulation. I think it was more about the look than the flavor. Some kid said it tasted like bubble gum. Kind of a let-down if you ask me. Then I spotted the truly strange flavors[1] they had in the glass case and Benny and I were both snorting and laughing like loons. First up was pickle-flavor. Then pizza-flavor. Then my friends there was alfredo-flavored cotton candy. After that it was just lunacy … buttered popcorn, banana nut bread, banana split, basil, acorn, tomato-flavor, pancake, caramel apple, hot chocolate, allspice, anise, banana foster, Dr. Pepper-flavor, amaretto cappuccino, cherry berry, pumpkin spice, and chunky monkey … and after that one I had to leave the building or laugh so hard I would have had a less than lady-like stomach upset.
I was taking pictures and sending them out to my friends. My phone rang and it was Pei.
“Oh. My. Gawd. Did you eat anything red?!”
“No! I swear!!” I said laughing, especially after discovering it was a conference call.
After a little conversation where we all caught up Pei said, “You need to get some real food in yours and Benny’s stomach. Stat. I don’t know what was in that cupcake.”
“Er, might not have been the cupcake. We had slurpies too.”
“Slurpies?! What color?!!”
Benny pipes up giggling, “Mine was blue!”
“What color was Gus’?”
“Um … I think it was purple.”
“Purple?!!” Pei yelped. “Gus! You know better. You need to go get some real food right now. And nooooo driving.”
Okay, so maybe I was on a bit of a bender the way some people drink one or two … or three … too many beers. I’ll admit my head was starting to feel sparkly from all the sugar. I don’t know what she would have said had she found out I bought some bacon-flavored cotton candy and a couple of mac-n-cheese flavored candy canes. At least I hadn’t bought the beer or the sparkling wine flavored ones.
We had dinner at this place called Rolando’s. Was pretty decent if a little pricier than I’d been wanting to pay. But it was food we were familiar with and I could create an a la carte plate for Benny that would be gluten-free. I was feeling a little hung over by the time we finished so there was only one more stop, at the Beef Jerky Outlet where I picked up a packet of “exotic” jerky because they had a discount sale going on as they were closing for the season.
I let Pei know that yes, we’d eaten real food and that yes we made it back to van, and we were going straight to camp. “Okay Nai Nai?”
“Better than okay Gus,” she told me with a laugh. Then my friend that knows me too well said, “Don’t let the stress build up so much. Call me anytime. I don’t care. Talk. But it really will be okay Gus. Not knowing what is coming next is tough but so are you. Promise you’ll call me next time … or at least call one of us. You were always there for us. Even Wonder Woman has friends she can count on.”
A little embarrassed I said, “Fine. And … you’re right. Not to mention I have Benny and can’t do this kind of stuff anymore. Geez. He’s already carb crashing in his booster seat. I need to get to camp and sign in Pei.”
“Just text me when you get in. Please?”
“Will do. Over and out.”
Camp was at Gulpha Gorge . Wish we had gotten in a little earlier. All sites have full hookups; electric, water and sewer connections. Benny needs a shower, but he’d crashed so hard all I could do was move him from his seat to his bed. I admit I took a long shower after texting Pei who I am sure texted everyone else. I think the sugar is now mostly out of my system and I’m staring at a half bottle of caffeine water. I wonder if it is half full or half empty? Either way it is time to hit the hay … and set the alarm. I hope Benny feels okay in the morning.
[1] Cotton Candy Floss: Prepackaged Flavors - Nature's Flavors
Driving Route:
October 13th
People are idiots. I can’t say it any plainer than that. And they double down on their idiocy far way too much. Found out from the company I pay to monitor my online reputation and all that other junk that the idiots from Big Bend tried to come back around for some more. Also found out that someone at the company is taking this personally and the company is now going after the turds civilly on my behalf. Their blog is now de-platformed and off the air, and their sponsors have dropped them after learning the details of the crap they pulled. And apparently I’m not the only one the turd holes have done this to though not to the extent of getting in trouble with the feds for false reports. Or at least doing to me what they did was their first time getting caught at it. I was told that if anyone tries to contact me regarding the matter, regardless of who they purport to be, I am to simply forward the contact, by whatever means it reaches me, to Ms. I. M. Pissed who is professionally T’d off and is turning this into a vendetta. Ugh.
Not really something I’m interested in pursuing but when you sign with that company you agree to pursue the Reputation Vandals to the fullest extent of the law. I signed for it, I’m just going to have to suck it up I guess. I did tell her that I wasn’t interested in any kind of media coverage and they agreed but can’t control what the person and/or their lawyer might do from the other side. Great. Just what I wanted to hear.
That’s what I dealt with for most of the three-hour drive between Shreveport and Hot Springs National Park in Arkansas. Oh well, life is just a bowl of that funky jello with weird stuff in it, that the old ladies in the church always bring to the potluck. I mean seriously … nuts and cottage cheese is not what a kid is looking for in their jello. Squirrel! Yeah, been that kind of day as well.
First thing we did was stop at the Fordyce Bathhouse Visitor Center to pick up Benny’s Junior Ranger Program booklet. He’s still zooming on getting as many badges as he can. He knows that the end of the month is the end of our adventure but for a kid his age that is like a million years away. I’m going to stretch it as much as I can but I have to admit I am getting a little sick to my stomach worrying at it.
Okay Gus, ‘nuff of that. Focus chick. Focus.
Hot Springs National Park is … different. It is what is called an urban park. The sign-thingie explains it as being “nestled in the heart of downtown Hot Springs, the National Park is surrounded by shops, diners, roads, and other attractions. There is a network of hiking trails and beautiful mountain overlooks for those looking to escape the feeling of city life that is also a part of the Park.” Yeah, pretty crazy. It also doesn’t have an entrance fee because it is basically just part of the city. Parking is free, there are cellphone trails, pets are welcome in most locations. Camping is first come first serve except for a very limited number of sites and Aunt Gus reserved one of those a long time ago because her OCD self was unwell to leave it to chance.
Guess what? Hernando de Soto was the first European explorer to visit Hot Springs in 1541. The same Hernando de Soto that explored Florida that I used to know all these interesting things about but have since forgotten. I told Benny I handed the Baton of Knowledge off to him and he can look that stuff up on his tablet. For some reason he thought that was hilarious. Glad I still entertain the kid.
There are only two bathhouses you can soak in the hot springs at; Buckstaff and Quapaw. Not sure if we will do that or not. There are several thermal spring fountains and Benny and I had on our day’s list to taste them all since they are free. We decided that while it might be gross, might not, but what the heck else were we going to do? There are also two cold spring fountains. And yeppers, we’ll taste them as well.
And the final two we found out about is where you can touch the thermal waters though no wading allowed. Within the Park, there are 2 places where you can touch the thermal water. Even though the water comes out of the ground at 147 degrees F, it is cool enough to touch by the time it reaches the pools. I wonder how cool is “cool enough”? We’ll check that one out but I’ll be shooting it with a no-touch thermometer before Benny and I stick our hands in it.
We made a list of the fountains. I left the van parked near the visitor center and we walked to all of the Hot Springs:
- In front of the Libbey Memorial Physical Medicine Center on Reserve St. - suitable for filling jugs.
- In front of the National Park Service Administration Building on Reserve St. - suitable for filling jugs.
- Between the Hale and Maurice Bathhouses on the Bathhouse Row
- The Noble Fountain on Reserve St. (at the south entrance of the Grand Promenade)
- The Dripping Spring between the Hale and Maurice Bathhouses
- The Shell Fountain on the Stevens Balustrade (between the Fordyce and the Maurice Bathhouses)
- Outside the park boundaries at the Hill Wheatley Plaza on Central Ave. - suitable for filling jugs.
Benny was really funny when I told him we were going up in the Hot Springs Mountain Tower. He was so enthralled with the Junior Ranger stuff in the visitor center that he didn’t see me purchase tickets. From the Happy Hollow cold spring we walked the 1.4 miles to the tower. I’m glad we walked because the tower parking lot was busy. Apparently the tower is the thing to do in Hot Springs. When it was our turn, the tower elevator took us up 216 feet to the observation decks. Okay, kinda silly and touristy I suppose but the view was pretty awesome. We saw the Ouachita Mountains, Hot Springs Mountain, and Diamond Lakes area.
Took less time walking back that it had going up and then I drove the van back to the visitor center, snagged another parking spot, and we walked off a hot chocolate with an excess of marshmallows I had made the mistake in buying. Wowzer. Whatever they had put in those cups had both Benny and I Wiggles Shuffle, I kid you not.
The different places we went in were the All Things Arkansas gift shop, the Bathhouse Row Emporium, the Gangster Museum where I got a picture of Benny dressed up like a 1920’s/30’s mini Capone with a Tommy Gun and the rest. I can only site complete insanity at buying a gluten-free cupcake at Fat Bottom Girls’ Cupcake Shoppe. At least it wasn’t one of their red velvet ones they are famous for. The KOA Campground was right there in the middle of things. Ginger’s Popcorn Shoppe had the flavors I used to eat with my Crew … hot, spicy, and enough sugar to wind up us and send us off. But no, the cupcake at topped out my crazy meter and the prices for popcorn of all things kept my temptation at bay. It did make me think of how I could replicate some of the flavors I had seen on offer. I’ve got notes, I just don’t have the ingredients yet.
The Pour Some Sugar on Me sweet shoppe was another place that just the smell of it nearly put Benny into overdrive. There was gummi bears, jelly beans, and tons of other candy as well. The cotton candy alone nearly sent me into catatonia. Apple pie, honey lavender, tiger’s blood (I was afraid to ask what it tasted like), blueberry peach, dragonfruit, pistachio, chocolate-caramel-pecan, peach, oreo, watermelon, orange cream, blue raspberry, pecan praline, pina colada, birthday cake, red velvet, and one of the most popular … insulation. Yes, I said Insulation. I think it was more about the look than the flavor. Some kid said it tasted like bubble gum. Kind of a let-down if you ask me. Then I spotted the truly strange flavors[1] they had in the glass case and Benny and I were both snorting and laughing like loons. First up was pickle-flavor. Then pizza-flavor. Then my friends there was alfredo-flavored cotton candy. After that it was just lunacy … buttered popcorn, banana nut bread, banana split, basil, acorn, tomato-flavor, pancake, caramel apple, hot chocolate, allspice, anise, banana foster, Dr. Pepper-flavor, amaretto cappuccino, cherry berry, pumpkin spice, and chunky monkey … and after that one I had to leave the building or laugh so hard I would have had a less than lady-like stomach upset.
I was taking pictures and sending them out to my friends. My phone rang and it was Pei.
“Oh. My. Gawd. Did you eat anything red?!”
“No! I swear!!” I said laughing, especially after discovering it was a conference call.
After a little conversation where we all caught up Pei said, “You need to get some real food in yours and Benny’s stomach. Stat. I don’t know what was in that cupcake.”
“Er, might not have been the cupcake. We had slurpies too.”
“Slurpies?! What color?!!”
Benny pipes up giggling, “Mine was blue!”
“What color was Gus’?”
“Um … I think it was purple.”
“Purple?!!” Pei yelped. “Gus! You know better. You need to go get some real food right now. And nooooo driving.”
Okay, so maybe I was on a bit of a bender the way some people drink one or two … or three … too many beers. I’ll admit my head was starting to feel sparkly from all the sugar. I don’t know what she would have said had she found out I bought some bacon-flavored cotton candy and a couple of mac-n-cheese flavored candy canes. At least I hadn’t bought the beer or the sparkling wine flavored ones.
We had dinner at this place called Rolando’s. Was pretty decent if a little pricier than I’d been wanting to pay. But it was food we were familiar with and I could create an a la carte plate for Benny that would be gluten-free. I was feeling a little hung over by the time we finished so there was only one more stop, at the Beef Jerky Outlet where I picked up a packet of “exotic” jerky because they had a discount sale going on as they were closing for the season.
I let Pei know that yes, we’d eaten real food and that yes we made it back to van, and we were going straight to camp. “Okay Nai Nai?”
“Better than okay Gus,” she told me with a laugh. Then my friend that knows me too well said, “Don’t let the stress build up so much. Call me anytime. I don’t care. Talk. But it really will be okay Gus. Not knowing what is coming next is tough but so are you. Promise you’ll call me next time … or at least call one of us. You were always there for us. Even Wonder Woman has friends she can count on.”
A little embarrassed I said, “Fine. And … you’re right. Not to mention I have Benny and can’t do this kind of stuff anymore. Geez. He’s already carb crashing in his booster seat. I need to get to camp and sign in Pei.”
“Just text me when you get in. Please?”
“Will do. Over and out.”
Camp was at Gulpha Gorge . Wish we had gotten in a little earlier. All sites have full hookups; electric, water and sewer connections. Benny needs a shower, but he’d crashed so hard all I could do was move him from his seat to his bed. I admit I took a long shower after texting Pei who I am sure texted everyone else. I think the sugar is now mostly out of my system and I’m staring at a half bottle of caffeine water. I wonder if it is half full or half empty? Either way it is time to hit the hay … and set the alarm. I hope Benny feels okay in the morning.
[1] Cotton Candy Floss: Prepackaged Flavors - Nature's Flavors
Jeepcats27
Senior Member
Nice Chapter, thank you!
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Nice, thanks a whole lot.
I have a biiiiig calendar and I have sketched in stuff to be posted on each day. Some day I keep up, other days no so much. LOL But it is time. Past time. These stories need to be finished and now that my last chick has graduated I'm just dedicated that time to this project.
Siskiyoumom
Veteran Member
I sure do appreciate your efforts. Thank you!
October 14th and 15th – Raining and Rain Out
Today I decided we were going to hike. There’s not much time left for it. Only until the end of the month. After that I’m not sure what is going to happen but it won’t include being able to hike every day. No way that can be even if it turns out that is what is good for both Benny and I. I just don’t see how to make that happen. So, today we hiked and I’ll do what I can to make it happen most days, if not every day, until this adventure is over.
Eating at Renaldo’s last night was not a bad thing but it wasn’t a thing I could afford to do every day. I’m saving money as I can so we can do other things. First thing I fixed us a good breakfast of Benny’s favorite type of omelet with homemade gluten-free biscuits, and I even had some fried apples on the side.
“Wow.”
“Good?”
“Totally yum,” Benny said before saying a quick prayer before his meal. I forget to reinforce that too often. Maybe once we are settled some place I won’t be so forgetful. It is a good thing to say thanks and not just be grateful. Kinda like a reinforcement to appreciate things. I need that type of reminder as much as Benny does.
None of the hikes today went over two miles. Not bad since some of them were through populated areas and not just parkland. The first one was West Mountain Trail, a 1.9-mile heavily trafficked loop trail that featured beautiful wild flowers during different points of the year. There weren’t any right now, but the changing colors of the leaves in the trees were just as good, at least in my opinion. We intersected and added the Mountaintop Loop (1.3 miles) that was more lightly trafficked than West Mountain. As such we saw more wildlife – mostly squirrels and birds, but also dogs on leashes. One the better maintained sections of the trails I even let Benny try some trail running but kept it to a slow speed.
“This is a new one for you, you need to pace yourself until you train the new muscles.”
“Why?”
“To avoid injuring them. You wanna strain a muscle and then get stuck sitting for the remainder of our adventure?”
“No. Way.” he said, finally willing to slow down and treat it like a marathon, not a race.
The other trails we did were:
Neither one of us wanted to go back to camp so we converted the remainder of the day to the two scenic drives.
“Well, I have good news and bad news,” I told Benny.
“What’s the bad news?” he asked like a little old man.
“Looks like this rain has set in will be here all day tomorrow too. However …”
“However?”
“Yep, good news is that we have the use of these hook ups all day tomorrow and I figure this will give you time to finish your Junior Ranger stuff and then you can play here in the van while I get some adulting completed. And since the hook ups include ‘letric, you can watch that documentary on Smoky Mountain National Park or the one on Daniel Boone. Maybe both.”
“Really? Cool! But, can I color while I watch them? And have the Crew out too?”
“Naturally. At least so long as you can keep them down to a dull roar. I really do need to take care of some adulting stuff.”
“Sure thing Aunt Gus,” he said, even remembering not to shout.
And that’s what we did. Benny had a little down time and I adulted … a lot. I must have sent off at least another hundred job applications and tried not to think about the fact that my hiking promise was already busted. I also rearranged some of the last of our schedule for the month. I had though about getting to Mammoth Cave early but no could do, there were no cancellations so I stuck with the four days we already had. I didn’t want to hang around two more days in Hot Springs because it was supposed to keep raining. So …
#####
“Really Aunt Gus?! For real?!” Benny was laughing hysterically.
“For real you little turkey. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my taste in music.”
He kept laughing. “Everyone looks funny when you start playing it loud. BOSSA NOVA, BOSSA NOVA!”
And I sang out:
“She said, "Hey, bossa nova baby
Keep on workin' for this ain't no time to quit"
She said, "Go, bossa nova baby keep on dancin'
I'm about to have myself a fit"
Bossa nova, bossa nova”
Yep, we are heading to Graceland in Memphis, TN tomorrow. Grandma Barry had always said we would go together one day. That day never came but I’m going to take Benny and we are going to have the time of our lives … or at least give it a real try. The adventure won’t last much longer and this is a memory I don’t want to pass up making.
Today I decided we were going to hike. There’s not much time left for it. Only until the end of the month. After that I’m not sure what is going to happen but it won’t include being able to hike every day. No way that can be even if it turns out that is what is good for both Benny and I. I just don’t see how to make that happen. So, today we hiked and I’ll do what I can to make it happen most days, if not every day, until this adventure is over.
Eating at Renaldo’s last night was not a bad thing but it wasn’t a thing I could afford to do every day. I’m saving money as I can so we can do other things. First thing I fixed us a good breakfast of Benny’s favorite type of omelet with homemade gluten-free biscuits, and I even had some fried apples on the side.
“Wow.”
“Good?”
“Totally yum,” Benny said before saying a quick prayer before his meal. I forget to reinforce that too often. Maybe once we are settled some place I won’t be so forgetful. It is a good thing to say thanks and not just be grateful. Kinda like a reinforcement to appreciate things. I need that type of reminder as much as Benny does.
None of the hikes today went over two miles. Not bad since some of them were through populated areas and not just parkland. The first one was West Mountain Trail, a 1.9-mile heavily trafficked loop trail that featured beautiful wild flowers during different points of the year. There weren’t any right now, but the changing colors of the leaves in the trees were just as good, at least in my opinion. We intersected and added the Mountaintop Loop (1.3 miles) that was more lightly trafficked than West Mountain. As such we saw more wildlife – mostly squirrels and birds, but also dogs on leashes. One the better maintained sections of the trails I even let Benny try some trail running but kept it to a slow speed.
“This is a new one for you, you need to pace yourself until you train the new muscles.”
“Why?”
“To avoid injuring them. You wanna strain a muscle and then get stuck sitting for the remainder of our adventure?”
“No. Way.” he said, finally willing to slow down and treat it like a marathon, not a race.
The other trails we did were:
- Whittington Trail, a 1.2-mile lightly trafficked loop trail.
- The Grand Promenade and Side Trails is a 1.2 mile moderately trafficked loop trail that featured hot springs.
- Peak Trail, a 1.3-mile moderately trafficked out and back trail.
Neither one of us wanted to go back to camp so we converted the remainder of the day to the two scenic drives.
- Hot Springs Mountain Scenic Drive is a 3.6 mile heavily trafficked loop road.
- West Mountain Scenic Drive is a 4.7 mile heavily trafficked point-to-point drive.
“Well, I have good news and bad news,” I told Benny.
“What’s the bad news?” he asked like a little old man.
“Looks like this rain has set in will be here all day tomorrow too. However …”
“However?”
“Yep, good news is that we have the use of these hook ups all day tomorrow and I figure this will give you time to finish your Junior Ranger stuff and then you can play here in the van while I get some adulting completed. And since the hook ups include ‘letric, you can watch that documentary on Smoky Mountain National Park or the one on Daniel Boone. Maybe both.”
“Really? Cool! But, can I color while I watch them? And have the Crew out too?”
“Naturally. At least so long as you can keep them down to a dull roar. I really do need to take care of some adulting stuff.”
“Sure thing Aunt Gus,” he said, even remembering not to shout.
And that’s what we did. Benny had a little down time and I adulted … a lot. I must have sent off at least another hundred job applications and tried not to think about the fact that my hiking promise was already busted. I also rearranged some of the last of our schedule for the month. I had though about getting to Mammoth Cave early but no could do, there were no cancellations so I stuck with the four days we already had. I didn’t want to hang around two more days in Hot Springs because it was supposed to keep raining. So …
#####
“Really Aunt Gus?! For real?!” Benny was laughing hysterically.
“For real you little turkey. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with my taste in music.”
He kept laughing. “Everyone looks funny when you start playing it loud. BOSSA NOVA, BOSSA NOVA!”
And I sang out:
“She said, "Hey, bossa nova baby
Keep on workin' for this ain't no time to quit"
She said, "Go, bossa nova baby keep on dancin'
I'm about to have myself a fit"
Bossa nova, bossa nova”
Yep, we are heading to Graceland in Memphis, TN tomorrow. Grandma Barry had always said we would go together one day. That day never came but I’m going to take Benny and we are going to have the time of our lives … or at least give it a real try. The adventure won’t last much longer and this is a memory I don’t want to pass up making.