Big Bend National Park

We drove from Monahan’s State Park on a leisurely route. We stopped by historic Fort Davis, and cruised through Marfa, Texas to see an old architecture friend of mine, before heading down to Terlingua, where we had managed to book a campsite for the week.

Originally, we were supposed to be in Thailand, visiting our high school exchange student from 8 years ago. But as the months crept closer, and COVID cases kept rising, we started to formulate a backup plan, just in case our reunion trip got cancelled. I had lived in Texas a couple of times- once as a child in Dallas area, then again, in Austin during my 20s. Even thought I had made it as far as Marfa, I never managed to take enough time to go explore this massive National Park in the same state (albeit still 8 hours away).

Being from the northern Midwest, I never fathomed that December and January would be a busy time of year for camping. Thankfully, my family in Texas warned us in November, that the week between Christmas and New Years is the peak season in Big Bend. We were too late to snag a campsite inside the park by that point, so we booked a spot just northwest of the park, in Terlingua.

The campground was not much to speak of. Mostly a dustbowl, with a few determined trees dotting the beige landscape. It was situated between a couple of impressive jutting peaks, precursors to what we would see in the park itself. The majority of sites were RVs nestled close together, like they were preparing to ride out a dust storm. We were on the outskirts, on a mini mesa that bled down to the lower level with deep crevasses carved by occasional rain.

We set up camp, a bit different than usual. We prefer to camp places within walking distance of trailheads, so we can park the bus and leave it there for the majority of our stay. In Big Bend, however, there are no park shuttles, and the trail heads are so widespread, it mandates the use of private transportation. So, we had a minimalist setup, and prepared to pack up and break camp each and every morning, only to set up again each evening.

In Marfa, my friend Sam Schonseit had let us kow that the trailhead parking areas are very limited, especially in Chisos Basin. “If you don’t get there early enough,” he cautioned, “you may not be able to find a parking spot, and you won’t get to hike.” We took this to heart, and discussed our strategy over a lazy dinner of Oklahoma-made tortilla chips, guac, and a jar of Texan salsa. Since I had been waking up around 5:30-6:30am every day anyway, Bethany insisted that we roll out first thing, before sunrise. We prepped our gear, selected the next day’s clothes, and packed up all but the essentials, so we could be as quick as possible getting ready in the morning.

I woke to the faint orange glow of sodium lights, and promptly recalled our plan. My outstretched arm fumbled in the dark towards the jump seat, where I knew my phone was charging. 5:54am. Plenty of time.

Quietly sliding closer to the edge of the bed, I reached down to pet Zaha, who was snoozing quietly, and turned her electric blanket back on. Everything was already loaded back in the bus for a quick getaway, so it was easy for me to reach between the seat and the cart to open the electric cooler and feel around for the familiar plastic crinkle of the sleeve of English muffins. I extracted two dough discs, and turned to open the skinny closet door. Second shelf up was the small electric lunchbox, which I slid out and managed to get plugged in to begin toasting our breakfast.

Once I got dressed, I woke up Bethany. Zaha refused to get up, and we decided to wait to let her out until we got to the parking area. Curtains rolled up, packs moved to the back, bed set up to bench seat formation, Zaha jumped up to her travel position, and away we went!

While Bethany requires several cups of tea to power her in the mornings, I am grateful for my natural morning alertness. We remembered to stop and get gas before turning onto the long dark road south. The range station was dark and empty, though our annual National Park pass was ready. I took the two-lane road slow, at first, grateful for my new LED headlights, but still wary of what laid beyond their cutoff. With each gentle curve, we caught glimpses of low shrubbery, while the dark horizon in front of us began to silhouette formations growing in size.

By the time we made it to the turnout for Chisos Basin, the sky was a much lighter blue – just starting to glow a warm pinkish orange, quickly tucked behind massive mountain peaks. We snaked up the valley, until my 45mph head of steam chugged to a meager 25mph, and a few other early risers began to collect on the road behind us. Then the road suddenly tipped downward. A series of sharp hairpin turns wound down into the basin, until a sudden, expansive view filled my windshield and struck us with complete awe. There was enough of a shoulder for me to pull over suddenly, and we leapt out to take in this breathtaking view.

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Chisos Basin is AMAZING. We hiked here 4 days in a row, and it never got old. In fact, it only gets better with each hike we were able to experience. Even for those who are unable to get out and hike more than the flat, paved, Window View Trail, it is worth it to witness this volcanic creation. Even though I had only just begun to see Big Bend, at this moment, gazing out across this unbelievably gorgeous vista, I knew it was already worth the drive from Indianapolis.