Of thunderstorms, open spaces and skunks

For more photos, click the image to the left...

Dave and Rachel (from St Andrews) came over to visit a couple of weeks ago. Their trip was in jeapordy until a day or two prior due to the unknown effects of Hurricane Rita. Braving the unknown, and the sensationalist media, they rocked up in Texas on a particularly normal Thursday.

The weekend saw us do the regular tourist things; the space center, Galveston, the gulf coast and some swimming! In addition, a couple of hundred miles in a light aircraft for a burger, and a trip to Wal Mart to prove that you really can buy DVDs, orange juice and shotguns in the same store was successfully undetaken before I returned to work on the Monday.
At this point we parted company, me to work, and the visitors to the Hill Country.

On Thursday, I headed out to San Antonio to meet up with them once again, and after a good meal and night on the riverwalk, we headed west to Big Bend national park, probably one of my favourite places on the planet.

Its a long drive out from Houston, 9 hours if you stop for nothing but fuel. However, we made it by late afternoon, proceeded to obtain a backcountry permit from the always knowledgable park staff, and drove off up a high clearance vehicle trail in my trusty Escape.

The first night was spent in Pine Canyon 4 in splendid isolation. The views of the Sierra Del Carmen were amazing as the sun set behind the Chisos Mountains. The stars emerged, and thanks to the clear air and sheer remoteness, the milky way was clear as a belt across the sky, and Mars rose rapidly in the east.

The following day dawned like an autumn morning in Wales! The previous night's view was shrouded in cloud, but only slightly daunted we set off on a shortish walk to the head of Pine Canyon. The trail heads up through the higher reaches of the desert for a mile before entering the narrower portion of the valley as it transitions into a canyon. The prickly pear cacti, as well as the yucca are joined by trees, amongst them a long needled pine which lends its name to the canyon. Quite soon you find yourself in a forest replete with large boulders, spiders webs, Javelinas and white tailed deer some parts of which could pass for the set of Lord of the Rings.
The trail ends at the base of a waterfall, or pouroff, which is usually dry. However this time there was a fair bit of water coming down, especially considering our position on the edge of the desert.
We decended the same way, and the cloud layer that had been present earlier was burning off in the intense sun before our very eyes. The reds and pinks of the outcrops around us made for some great views.

So the trip continued with much taking of pictures, wondering in canyons, desert stomping, all while Dave was being attacked by a single evil looking wasp, much to the amusement of Rachel and I (and no doubt the wasp too!)

We had pitched the tent on the last night, and were mindful of a rather black looking thunderstorm some miles off. We energetically bounded (just like mountain goats in fact) up to a low ridge to survey the surroundings. Well. It looked like Mordor! We got back to the tent just as the storm hit with serious force and proceeded to do its level best to turn our tent inside out. It took a couple of us to just hold it up. The verdict after the first squall was not good, another storm cell was headed our way, and there was no way we could stay without a tent that could stand thunderstorm force winds. We packed up, and headed back towards the main road and up the lodge. We tried to get a room, but there were none available! By now it was 7PM and dark, with rain and lightening, so we decided to get something to eat. As we climbed out of the car, we were greeted by a not-too-reassuring hissing noise. Yes, it was raining, thundering, we were homeless and had a puncture.

After a meal to consider the options, we used my "fix a flat" to repair the tire. This comes in a can, and you attach the tube on the can to the tire valve and the compound goes in, seals the hole and reinflates the wheel. This would have been great, apart from the simple fact that it didn't work. No problem, plan B. Replace the tyre. (I know I am spelling tyre in both English and American ways, but I'm typing this on my BlackBerry whilst on board a continental jet en route to Boston, so can't correct things that speedily!)

Out came the spare, plus the jack. Up goes the car, but not high enough. Doh. We tried the jack in different chassis locations with no joy. Looks like my car came with the wrong jack. The hunt was then on for a bit of wood, that would give the jack that extra inch and a half to allow the bolts on the car to meet with the holes in the spare.

All finally was accomplished at around 11PM by which time our only accommodation option was in Fort Stockton, about 80 miles distant. All on a spare that was rated at 50mph.

On the way out we saw deer and javalinas both on and near the road. There were no less than 3 owls sat on the centerline, and just short of Marathon there was a skunk in the middle of my lane. There was no time to slow down, and no swerving possible due to the small spare tire we were riding on. We passed right over it giving us all (including, I imagine, the skunk) one hell of a shock. Luckily for the skunk, there was no ominous thunk-thunk, so it sprayed us by way of thanks. Luckily for us, our passing by at over 60 mph, the smell was more annoying than overpowering. If we had really been sprayed, we would probably have had to burn the car.

Fort Stockton appeared on the horizon, and the comfort inn looked comfortable indeed as we checked in after 1am.

There's always a sense of disappointment when leaving the isolation of a protected park, and having to return to the ugly advertising hordings and neon signs of small town Texas.

Ah well. So long Big Bend.

Until the next time.
--
Sam Clayton
www.samclayton.net

Sent wirelessly via BlackBerry 7100t from T-Mobile.

posted by Sam @ 19:29