Day 10
Monday February 12, 2018
I was in no rush to get out. But since there was nothing to do in Comstock, there was no reason to stick around. The only place for breakfast was the convenience store across the street. Yes, I did grab a juice and coffee to go.
It was still fairly early when I took the first load out to the car. There was just enough light to see the thickly spotted clouds overhead. Now all I needed to do was wait another few minutes to see if we would get any color to go with them.
Around 7:20A, I grabbed my jacket and camera and walked just far enough down the shoulder of Hwy 90 to get beyond the power lines. Just like standing on the beach, but at twenty-eight degrees, I settled in to watch the sunrise.
A few trucks rumbled by. But, since Comstock doesn’t even rate a single stop light, they barely slowed down. The only ones who did were in the white and green Border Patrol vehicles. I just waved. It must not be every day that some guy stands on the side of the highway and stares east. But, my patience was rewarded.
Back at the room I went about packing the rest of my stuff and double checking to see if I had forgotten anything. More than once I’ve left camera batteries in a charger, still plugged into a wall.
While the car warmed up I pondered the day. The original plan was to head northeast to the town of Rock Springs. There’s a little something in town called the Devil's Sinkhole. Seriously. Doing the math in my head, it was about one hundred twenty miles out of the way.
In the end, I chose to just head north along Ranch Road 163. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting drive of the trip. Periodic historic markets talked of numerous battles between the Cavalry and the local Indians along the Devils River.
There was no sign of life passing through the town of Juno, though I did find this old general store interesting. Why they had the mileage to all these places, I do not know.
As the drive took me closer and closer to civilization, I left the phone turned on with the volume up. Somewhere along the way I was sure to pick up my first cell signal in over a week. Pulling into Ozona, it started dinging and chirping. I pulled into the town square in front of the Crockett County Courthouse, and got caught up with everyone.
In the town of Barnhart, I headed west along Hwy 67. When I passed through Big Lake, my car’s GPS indicated an actual big lake. I pulled off, but never saw the lake. I turned around and drove back. No one as coming, so I stopped on the bridge over the ”lake” and took these.
It's a good thing I pulled off when I did. Otherwise, I probably would have missed this memorial...
Florence Miller Watson took her first plane ride at the age of eight and was hooked, as was her father. A few years later be bought his own plane and taught his children to fly. Anticipating America's entry into the war going on in Europe, he wanted his children trained and ready to contribute. That included Florence.
By the time she had finished high school, she had also finished flight school. Within two years she had a commercial aviation license and had qualified as a flight instructor. After the attack at Pearl Harbor, she and her brother volunteered for the Army Air Corp.
With her background and experience, she quickly qualified for the Women's Auxiliary Ferrying Squadron, which was later renamed the Women Air Force Service Pilots. Their job was to fly the planes to where they were needed for training or front line service. By the end of the war, she had flown every type of plane in the military's fleet.
One last turn to make. In Rankin, I picked up Hwy 349 and a straight shot into Midland.
This made me laugh.
Feeling denied the craving in Marathon, I had searched for the place voted to have the best pizza in Midland. Sadly, if MD Pizza is the best, I feel sorry for Midland. It was decent, but hardly anything special.
My home for the night was the Americas Best Value Inn. The room they put me in had a kitchen and seating area. It was perfectly fine and clean. But, the dingy lighting made it feel like a basement apartment.
Day 11
Tuesday February 13, 2018
Once again I was up at a ridiculous hour to catch a flight. I was booked on the 5:25A out of Midland. I was still going to have to change planes in Houston, but the early hour would get me back in Atlanta before noon.
Fortunately, I was able to crash out a little early. While it was more like a series of naps, I probably got four or five hour of good sleep. So, when the phone’s alarm went off at 3A, it wasn’t all that bad. There was very little traffic as I worked my way to the Midland/Odessa International Air and Spaceport. And yes, that’s how they bill it.
I have TSA Precheck, but at this hour, there was no separate line. Instead, they handed me a laminated magenta card which allowed me to leave my shoes on and use the metal detector instead of the cursed body scanner. They did make me take my camera out of my backpack though. This was a first. I asked and was under the impression this is a new edict.
Outside the window at our gate was a plane. We all assumed it was ours. We were wrong. Just like normal, we checked in at the desk. Then we had to go downstairs, outside and walk perhaps a hundred feet to the ramp up to the plane.
Fortunately, we left on time. I say that because I had a very short window to make my connection home. After getting off the plane and into the concourse, I followed the signs for the tram to E-Terminal. Of course it was pulling out as I walked up.
Upon finally arriving in the terminal that houses D,E and the international gates, I hopped on the escalator down. There was no one in front of me, so I ran down into the corridor below. That’s when I heard over the PA, “United Flight 333 now boarding seats, all sections.” Yeah, I sprinted. A little out of breath, I finally arrived at Gate E-12. I was the second to last to board. Fortunately, the flight was only half full and there was still plenty of overhead space. Still, a little close for comfort.
But in the end, I really was home before noon.
Dave
2/18
PS: I'm home for a while. My niece Beth is graduating college in May, so I took the week off to head up for that. The trip to Alaska is booked and good to go. I have notes about things I can't book yet, like ferry tickets. Otherwise. it's all set and looking forward to the adventure.
Day 5
Wednesday February 7, 2018
Considering the previous two days, you can understand my decision to sleep in. When I woke up and decided it was time to face the day, my calves felt like lead, and every step around the room reminded me that I’m simply not used to this. But, in a way, if really felt good.
The previous two days I was out of the hotel before first light. Today, I watched the sunrise from the parking lot of the El Dorado. While the extra sleep felt good, and what was ahead of me was stunning, part of me had wished for an earlier start.
The second part of the day was to be way out of character and a bit out of my comfort zone. Those of you that know be best will get it. But, there comes a point when you have to put some of those traumatic events of your college years behind you. But, with the late start, that would have to wait for another day. I asked a Park Ranger and he told me flat out, “that depends how fast you walk.” If you had seen the way I walked into the ranger’s station, you’d agree…Intrigued? Tune in tomorrow…
As I drove out of Terlingua, off in the distance was a mountain with a flowing cloud on top, almost like white syrup running down the side. After driving around a bit, I realized this is the best shot I was going to get.
Driving into the park, there were quite a few low hanging clouds, making for an interesting view. At one point, the light hit it just right. If there weren’t cars behind me, I would have stopped right there in the park road. Imaging if you can, the morning sun hitting these clouds just right and creating a rainbow of color. Suddenly, I wasn't regretting the late start one bit.
My goal for the day was a revisit to my favorite trail in the park, the Lost Mine Trail. It’s five miles round trip with a really great view at the end. As I learned on my first visit, it’s best to do this one in the morning. The trail head is in the same area as the previous two days. As I drove uphill into the Chisos Basin, I drove into this...
I started thinking about the trail that couple from Arizona told me about. It was down in the valley and not in the clouds. When I came across the parking area for the Lost Mine Trail, the visibility was still pretty limited. It was a half mile from the lodge and visitor center, so I drove on. After coming around an especially sharp curve in the road(10 MPH for a reason) I was suddenly out of the clouds and the skies were clear and blue.
From the parking lot, looking back downhill, the clouds looked as if they were flowing and oozing down the sides of the mountain. I met some other phototogs on the side of the road as we tried our best to capture what we were seeing.
At this point, I started rethinking Lost Mine. I really had no idea what to expect at this point. The clouds had thinned a bit since I drove through them, but they were still a presence at the trailhead.
The hike itself is a mix of stone stairs and simply inclined trails. At this hour, half of the trail was still in shadow The exterior temperature gauge on the rental said it was forty-eight degrees. It certainly felt it. I grabbed a long sleeve shirt and my denim jacket from the back seat and started up the trail.
It didn’t take long before I was suddenly above the clouds, in the sun and shoving the extra layers in my backpack. From time to time I would hit a clearing in the trail, turn around and just be amazed at the view. Yeah, I was so not regretting the later start.
Two and a half miles up, I was out of the trees. I’ve been to this park three times and done this hike each time. Can you really blame me…
Back at the visitor center, I paused for some water when this roadrunner approached me. They're usually pretty skittish, but where there are humans there's food.
It was still early afternoon. I contemplated a short trail, but decided to just call it a day. I was already walking a little funny. Instead, I drove back to Terlingua. After putting the camera battery in the charger, I shuffled my way to the hotel’s bar with my tablet. Over a pretty good grilled chicken sandwich and a “couple” of beers, I wrote up a few notes from the day. They had country music playing on the PA, softly enough to hear the conversations at the neighboring tables. It was heavy on Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson and Hank Williams. Wendy took good care of me and refilled my beer a few times. The elderly couple who occasionally got up to dance just added the finishing touch.
I left the hotel’s bar a little after 6P. While I didn’t have anyone to dance with, I did have a date with the sunset…
Day 6
Thursday February 8, 2018
After the previous three day’s exertion, I once again woke up with stiff calves that made walking across the room an effort. But, I knew I had a full day ahead of me and I wanted to get out there. The sun was coming up as drove through the park.
The couple from Arizona had suggested the trail out to Mule Ears Spring . It’s a relatively easy two miles each way. Just perfect for my day. From the parking area, you can easily see where the name Mule Ears comes from. Those spires are cones from very old volcanoes. The erupted at separate times and they’re not as close together as they look.
The trail out was more rolling hills than steep inclines. It was just what I needed to start the day. Considering the fact I was hiking into the low sun, most of the photos are from the hike back.
Out of the blue, I came across an unexpected rock wall. Upon further investigation it made sense. This is a stone corral, adjacent to the spring.
As for the spring...
The trail continues on and connects with more trails. I could have spent the day in this part of the park. But, I had an adventure ahead of me and it had a hard time limit. So, I walked another half mile or so before turning back. Close enough to call it five miles round trip.
These are from the hike back...
Back at the car I knew it was time. Time for a true adventure. I was headed somewhere I had never been. It’s about a forty minute drive to the very edge of the park road. That’s where you find the border crossing for Boquillas del Carmen, Mexico. I was headed to Mexico for lunch.
First, a little vague yet disgusting backstory. In the spring of 1986, my college roommates and I took a walk into downtown Glassboro and had dinner a chain Mexican restaurant. They were all fine. I wasn’t. Think about the worst case of food poisoning you’ve ever had. Now stretch that into three days. I’ll spare you the details. But, it took me years until I could sit across from someone eating Mexican food and not have my stomach churn. As years went by I just avoided it altogether. Many of you have heard me say “anything but Mexican” when asked about dinner plans.
So no, I haven’t touched anything beyond chips and salsa since 1986. It was time to put it behind me in a big way and have some real Mexican food, made by real Mexicans…in Mexico.
There's a Customs office and border crossing within the park. Boquillos is close enough to see from their parking lot.
I drove in behind a red Jeep and parked. I was surprise how many cars were there. That’s also where I met Patrick from Dallas. He hadn’t done the border crossing either, so we got to talking. We’re both into ghost towns and he told me about a long abandoned mining facility near where he was camping. His Jeep handled the road just fine. I wasn’t going to risk the brand new rental car on this trip. A slightly used one, perhaps.
It all begins in the Customs office. There were two Customs agents with badges and guns and one guy from the Park Service. He explained how the crossing works and showed us examples of things we wouldn’t be allowed to bring back. I understood the food and animals. I even understood that non-varnished wood could bring in bugs. But, you’re not allowed to bring rocks back either.
Once briefed, it’s out the back door to the river. You can either wade across or pay the ferryman $5. On the other side he gives you a ticket for the return trip. Note the woman in the red dress...
Once in Mexico, you can either get a lift in a pick-up to town, ride on a burro, or you can walk. We chose to walk since it’s ten minutes. That woman in red rode a burro. We still beat her to town.
Once there, you have to check in with Mexico’s Customs. There are some weird stories on line of this taking a very long time. We were in and out of the trailer in minutes, passports stamped. Though I will admit, the agent’s stamper really needed more ink. I was a little disappointed it was almost illegible.
From there, you’re on your own. It was quite evident their biggest business is selling crafts to tourists.
It's pretty clear what they think of the proposed border wall. It wasn't just on the t-shirts. It was on the hand stitches beer can cozies, wrist bands and just about everything else.
Patrick and I decided to slip into the town's one bar for a beer. The bartender spoke perfect english and handled every transaction in american dollars. The place seemed dead, so Patrick asked if there’s a busy season. The bartender told us it only gets busy in January, during spring break and during the big chili cook off every November in Terlingua.
Some shots from around town...
There are also two restaurants in town, both owned by the same family. One has a patio overlooking the river...
The other had a guy with his guitar singing Mexican folk songs. The Chihuahua was an added bonus.
They're not too happy about the wall either.
As for lunch, I chose the chicken and cheese tamales. They came with salsa and a small bowl of jalapeno. I knew I couldn't touch those. The rest...delicious.
So, while I highly doubt I'll ever do fast food mexican ever again, I'd do something like this. As for that guy playing mexican folk songs, I was actually grateful when a woman at another table asked him some questions about the lyric's meanings, and he stopped playing.
After lunch, we decided to head back. Truth be told, there really isn't much to do here. But, I don't regret spending part of my afternoon here one bit. As soon as we left town and started back, this dog decided to escort us. He walked us all the way back to the boat.
Once you're back across the river, there's only one way to go, back to the Customs office. There aren't any actual agents here since it's such a small crossing. Instead, there are two kiosks with telephones on the side. Slide your passport into the scanner, pick up the phone and you're checked back in by an agent in El Paso. We were both done within five minutes.
Patrick and I shot the breeze in the parking lot for a while before he headed back to his campsite and I headed back the length of the park to the hotel.
My lunch hadn't been that big, but it was late enough that I didn't feel any urge for dinner. Instead, I chilled in my room for a while to be out of the sun. But, sunset did await.
I worked my way back to the hotel's bar and chatted with some tourists and a few locals before calling it a night.
