A few details about our travels

There were a few things that we both noticed along the way. I thought I would mention them as we headed through the last stretch of the drive home.  First, we have to talk about the car.  

Turbo Wagon:

Cas went on a trip when he was still a single man.  He flew to South Dakota and rented a Nissan Versa to drive around.  It was silver in color, and he had fond memories of the trip.  When we got to the car rental place, they told us the car we would enjoy would be a black Nissan Versa.  Cas said he nicknamed his car in South Dakota the Turbo Wagon.  He said it was a reasonable mode of transportation, and our car for the last week has been perfectly fine.  It’s nothing great, nor is it awful.  We named our rental: Turbo Wagon 2: Electric Bugaloo.  

It’s comfortable enough, and the gas mileage is good. The man at the rental counter wanted to up sell us on everything- a car upgrade, added insurance and so on.  We just stuck with the turbo wagon.  It’s been pretty comfortable.  

The Javelina

When Cas and I were at the McDonald Observatory, the person who taught our last class of the day before the star party was a really spectacular teacher named Marc.  In spite of the fact that I have been taught my whole life to spell Mark with a k, this man was a very, very good teacher.  He was so good with the kids in the room- it was like he was a child whisperer.  As the class drew to a close, he cautioned everyone who was headed to the star party that it was awfully cloudy.  As he was discussing the arguments for and against sticking around.  He talked about how to leave so headlights won’t shine in the faces of the star partiers.  In this same speech, he warned about the probability of hitting deer in the dark- or what he called “Suicide Pigs.”  

Cas and I spent the rest of the trip looking for the famed Suicide Pigs of West Texas.  Everywhere we went after that, there were stuffed javelina toys in shops, books about them, We looked everywhere for a javelinas.  We looked on roadsides, during hikes, while floating down the river- no javelinas.  We struck out.

Why Cas can’t have nice things in national parks.  

Cas has apparently done the exact same frustrating thing twice in his life.  He went to Big Bend once many years ago.  When he was hiking there in his 30s, he managed to shred and destroy a pair of hiking boots.  Apparently, he spent time in that adventure waking around in duct-taped footwear.  

This time, I was walking behind Cas at the Chihuahua Desert Research Center hike, and I saw that the soles of his current boots were flopping about a little.  He has totally killed off two pairs of hiking boots in or around Big Bend.  Cas can’t have nice things, I’ve decided- not in national parks.  

Anyhow, we’re almost home.  It’s time to hang up the blog until this summer when we head to Canada.  I’ll get back on here then.  Until that, here is that link to Cas’ photos again.  A few of them are mine, but they’re mostly his: https://photos.app.goo.gl/l8PlrGxUhLMOcgi22

See you back home!

Checking out- room 214

The Chisos Mountain Lodge assigned Cas and me to room 214.  We handed the keys back in this morning and headed out to see if we could finally park the car close enough to the Lost Mine Trail and get one last hike in on our trip.

When we arrived just before 9 am, there were actually a few parking spaces open.  It was a miracle.  We took the fourth one from the trailhead entrance.  

We had no intention of making it all the way up and back down the whole trail, since we want to get home sometime when it is still Sunday, but we got to a spot with a really pretty view.  

If that’s not good enough, then I don’t know what is.  

We walked back down with considerably more comfort and ease than we had walking up.  Turns out walking down with the sun at your back is the way to go.  It was a perfect way to end our time in Big Bend National Park, and when we were walking down the last few feet of the path, I caught the eye of a passenger in a car that had just about given up its search for trail-adjacent parking.  I waved to signal that they should back up- we were about to vacate a space.  The couple was very happy to learn that a space would be vacant very soon, and even happier that I waved them down.  

Once we surrendered our parking spot, we headed on to the park exit.  It’s just lots and lots of driving from here to the rental car company, and we’re trying to make it in for dinner time.  We shall see...  Now that we’ve left room 214, I suppose it’s time to head back to area code 214.  

The $5,000 question

On the US side of the border, we call the river that separates the US from Mexico Rio Grande.  In Mexico, they call that same river Rio Bravo.  As a result of this name difference, we weren’t sure which river we were visiting today.  When we got in on the US side, it was probably grand.  When we stepped out in Mexico and got back in, I suppose it was bravo. Hard to say.

Today started with a really nice breakfast at the lodge resturant.  When we wrapped that up, we took a second shot at the Lost Mine Trail.  It apppears that it hasn’t been lost in quite some time, because whenever we arrive at the trailhead, the parking lot is full.  Somebody found it.  Our plan was to try parking at Lost Mine and hiking that.  If we couldn’t do it, we would go on the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive.  When we slowly rolled past the totally full parking area, I looked at Cas and said, “Scenic Drive?”  He said, “Yep.”  

It’s a pretty great scenic drive, actually.  We pulled off the road and looked at things, walked out, took photos and saw lots of beautiful stuff.  We did that on the way to Terlingua.  We had a reservation at 1 pm to do a river float.  I called the company that does this while we were in  Marathon and booked the last two spots in their tour this afternoon.  We got to a place called Far Flung Adventures for our trip down the Rio Grande.  They do it with kayaks when the water level is good, which it was today.  I was initially a little worried about having to pilot a kayak.  I use the rowing machine at the gym, but I usually tap out after about 15 minutes.  The woman on the phone to whom I was expressing this concern let me know that 10 year old kids do this trip all the time.  I think she was trying to tell me that I was being a little too concerned about my rowing abilities.  

Cas and I had a really great time.  I am so glad we did that- we pulled up with our group on the Mexico side for a moment to have a mid-trip snack, then we got back in and headed downstream a little more for the return to the US.  Nobody even asked me for my passport.  I hadn’t planned to make it to Mexico on spring break, but there I was.  I guess there are lots of stories people have about accidentally ending up in Mexico during Spring Break, but none of them are probably this tame.  

When we got back to the point where the tour company was set to retrieve the kayaks and hoist them all onto a trailer for return to their facility, there was a sign on the side of the water that said unauthorized crossing of the border at other than a point of entry would result in a $5,000 fine.  I hope they don’t know where to send the bill, and I hope that ignorance of the law is a proper excuse, because I wasn’t entirely sure we were in Mexico until I asked the person from the tour company who directed us to step on foireign soil.  

Tomorrow ends our adventure.  I think we will take one more stab at the Lost Mine Trail- hopefully, it will be a little more lost to all the other visitors on a Sunday morning.  After that, we head back to Dallas.  Nothing like hanging out in a beautiful National Park to remind you how flat and dull Dallas is.  I love home, but it’s not exactly brimming with the splendor of nature or anything.  

Anyhow, I had yet another fantastic day with Cas.  He’s a whole lot of fun to travel with.  Here’s what he looks like when kayaking in International Waters, by the way:

See you back home.  

Always looking up

*I’m writing this on Friday night, but I will not get a chance to post it until Saturday morning.  I have no urge to walk across the parking lot in my pajamas just for the WiFi.*

The first time I ever really hiked, I was looking down most of the time.  I had to.  The terrain was pretty treacherous, and I was the slowest one in our group.  That was when Cas and I were making our way through the Samaria Gorge in Crete.  It was part of our trip to Greece, and I was in no way prepared to do it.  

I had a pretty negative view of the whole idea of hiking after that.  Apparently, that is a really tough hike.  It’s the kind of thing avid hikers put on their hiking bucket list.  I was just learning how to do it.  Talk about the deep end of the pool.  

Today, we went on something called the Window Trail.  It was so much better that I can actually see why people would get into hiking in the first place.  I could look up.  I didn’t need to stare at the ground to be sure of my footing in each individual step- instead, I could see what there was to see.  Even the other day at the Chihuahuan Desert Research Center, the path was uneven, requiring a great deal of my focus.  This was my best hike yet.  

Today, I could look up at the “window.”  This is what they were talking about:

The gap between the two mountains is a lovely window to the world on the other side of them.  It was pretty great.  

After we did that trek, Cas in his infinite wisdom recommended we check out the lodge for its bar and restaurant.  We had a few drinks and a really nice meal, though we kind of dragged the meal out so we could stay at our table near the window throughout sunset.  Again, I had to stop and look up.  It was a gorgeous sunset.  

After that, I had the infinite wisdom.  I suggested we take a post-dinner nap until it was totally dark out so we could bring Cas’ telescope out into the grass in front of our room and look up yet again.  Since our cloudy night at the observatory was still pretty thick with stars to my untrained city eyes, tonight’s sky was practically blanketed with stars.  The sky was so black and the stars were so bright- I think it’s a new moon right now, or something pretty close.  

Cas delighted in finding the things we had spotted in professional astronomers’ telescopes just the other day.  He did a pretty good job with his binoculars and his small telescope.  I wouldn’t have done nearly as well.  Then again, he is pretty good at most everything he tries.  

We have a plan to do a scenic drive tomorrow.  It apparently features lots and lots of places to stop the car and hike around.  We have a river float in the afternoon.  I hope we continue looking up all day tomorrow.  It’s pretty great to always be looking up.  

Room with a view

*I wrote this a few hours ago- just found some WiFi*

We’re in.  We got to Big Bend National Park and stopped along the road about a half dozen times to take it all in and snap a photo.  

When we arrived at the welcome center, we got some trail maps and a little advice, then we went to the Chisos Mountain Lodge restaurant.  They had indoor and outdoor options, and we chose to sit outside.  By the time we finished our meal, our room was ready.  It’s pretty rustic- I think that’s the word I want.  The walls are made from cinder blocks, the chair I am sitting in is wobbly and the whole place has a summer camp feel to it.  Still, it has one heck of a view.  

My definition of ‘roughing it” is probably not truly correct.  I am confused as to how I will proceed in a room with no WiFi.  If I want to connect and post this very sentence to the Internet, I have to go all the way across the parking lot to a different building where I can use the WiFi.  So tough!  

Anyhow, now that Cas and I are checked into our “rustic” room, we’re just about ready to gear up, slather ourselves in sunscreen and head out on an adventure.  We’ll be hiking a bit today, and we have a whole day in the park tomorrow before we head home on Sunday.    I think he’s even got a plan to be in a sunset-friendly spot when that time comes this evening.  After that, it’s back to the rustic room with a view, I suppose.  Talk about roughing it.

Heads I win

The Gage Hotel is so Texas that I think you can use the word Texas as a verb when you describe the hotel.  It Texas-es so hard.  When you first walk in the door of any building here, you will see some kind of animal head poking out of a wall in that room.  I had a theory that the hotel owner married into a family of taxedermists, and this place was the perfect opportunity to blend those talents.  

There are heads in every space.  Indoors, the heads are carefully preserved to look as they may have in life.  Outdoors, the heads are reduced to skulls and posted as exterior decor on buildings.  There are chandeliers made of antlers.  There are paintings of skulls when no actual skulls are present, but sometimes, there are skulls arranged in the shape of a head,  and that’s pretty entertaining.  

The part of the hotel we’re staying in has lots of common space for guests to use downstairs.  There is also about a half of an animal seemingly walking out of the wall at the top of the stairs.  Each room seems to be adorned with an animal head, but the strangest one of all is the horse head.  Until that moment, I thought displayed animal heads were hunting trophies, but a horse head would suggest that any animal who passes away for any reason is subject to stuffing and putting on a wall.  The horse got a spot just above a fireplace, and there were reins that hung down toward the mantle of the fireplace.  Poor guy has to stay ready for a rider eternally.  Can’t let it’s disembodied head be free from reins.  

Our guest room has only an antler-laden light fixture.  West Texas minimalist, I suppose.  Make no mistake, the hotel is beautiful, and our room is gorgeous, but the decor just Texas-es so hard.  

Needless to say, when we check out of here, I think I will have had my fill of heads poking out of walls for a while.  Maybe I just don’t Texas hard enough.  

Arthur

When you go to the White Buffalo Bar at the Gage Hotel, please be prepared to overpay.  We had some very good drinks, but they were nowhere good enough to warrant the prices the place charged.  The staff was efficient, and the drinks were good, but for a $15 old fashioned, you want a friendly, effusive staff and a spectacular drink.  We got prettty darn good.  For a $30 tab on two drinks, they needed to be oh-my-gosh great.  

Instead of a second round of drinks that would have had me unfavorably comparing our bar tab to our mortgage, we decided to take a walk through the Gage Gardens.  The hotel is pretty much the only game in town.  It’s a nice hotel with several buildings of guest rooms.  There is a fitness center on the other side of the railroad tracks, as well as a cluster of rooms.  There is also a garden.  I was skeptical- probably because I had been in a desolate desert botanical center earlier today.  This was a beautiful garden. It was clearly designed to look like a European garden.  It was really stunning and supernaturally green when you got there, but when you turned your head to the left, you saw a cow. 

It was completely goofy.  It didn’t go.  Here’s what the cow sees every day:

No logic to that at all.  It makes no sense.  I immediately asked Cas when I saw it if he thought it would support my weight and if he thought I could jump up on there.  He was so supportive... what a guy.  He said of course I should pose atop the cow statue for a photo.  When I got up to it, the cow featured a sign that said, “FRAGILE Do not stand or sit on art cow thanks.”  

A few things to unpack, there.  First, I was disappointed.  Second, I had no idea the cow was named Art.  Third, I did not know Art was a girl name, now.  Stranger things have happened.  Plenty of boys-only names have crossed over.  Arthur T. Cow could be a girl cow name.  I thought all male members of that species were bulls.  

Cas and I experimented with middle names.  We settled on T as the initial.  Guess the name as you go along.  It’s not Arthur Thomas.  

Anyhow, we spent enough time at the botanical garden with Arthur (Not Taylor), and we had it go back to the main drag where the restaurant was.  We got there in time for our reservation.  When we were seated, there was only one other person in the small room.  She paid and left, and eventually was replaced by another couple.  It was pretty much semi-private dining all night.  (Not Travis)

The place is pretty proud of their food, but the food is just that good.  In fact, it’s great.  It’s not Tantalizing, though. Nice try on Arthur T. Cow’s middle name.  It’s also not Trevor.  We had a filet and the quail. I’ve never had quail before, and we shared both dishes. Spectacular. (Also not Timothy) 

After dinner, we went back to our room and took a few things outside.  We grabbed a pair of binoculars, a bottle of wine and some plastic cups.  

We looked at a few stars, made a few new friends and drink some wine.  Tomorrow, we leave here and head to the park.  Finally, we are headed to Big Bend.  No more chatting with Arthur Tiberius Cow.  That’s the name, you know.