Maverick Road

Within Big Bend National Park is a network of dirt roads.  Some of these are listed as improved roads and can be driven by just about any vehicle, as long as it is understood that the going is slow and that your vehicle needs to be in good working order with plenty rubber on the tires.

For our project day, Cyndee and I checked out a high clearance vehicle for a day of back country road patrol.  We were starting with the 13 mile long Old Maverick Road on the west side of the park.  Our start was early because this part of the park is quite barren and looks best in early morning (or late afternoon) light.  At this time the desert colors are more saturated and the feel of the desert badlands is less harsh than in the midday sun.  The road crosses Alamo Creek and ascends the gravel hills between Burro Mesa and the Rattlesnake Mountains.  Before the park was established this area was much different looking.  After over grazing, farming and tree cutting for the mining operations there is little left to remind one that this was once grassland with thickets of cottonwood and willow.



Old Maverick Road looking southwest towards Santa Elena Canyon.

Parts of the road are more than two lanes wide but in spots it narrows down to one, rocky lane.  And most of these rocks were sharp-edged, the reason you want tires that are in good shape.


Hard to picture this drainage full of cottonwood and willow.

A little farther down and we get alongside a rocky cliff on the one side and plenty of washboard on an otherwise well kept road. 


 But while I was eye-balling the geology on my side of the car, Cyndee had spotted something altogether different on her side.

Unmarked grave alongside Old Maverick Road.

We do not know how old this grave is or who it belongs to.  We have heard of many of these lonely grave sites and there is a number of bonafide graveyards as well.  We have one that we have scoped out for later investigation.  Maybe on our next project day.

A few more miles on and we came to a marked exhibit, a preserved dwelling.  Senor Gilberto Luna built this jacal (ha-kal) and lived in it for many decades.  Luna lived and raised a family, a very large family in this jacal until his death in 1947 at the age of 108.

The structure was built from materials on hand at the time.  Large cottonwoods provided the beams and surrounding hills the rock, aggregate and mud for the walls.  It was a long, single room and the height at the peak was barely 4 ft.  But somehow this worked for Gilberto Luna and his reported 52 children.  That's right, 52 children.

It is amazing that you only have to take one step inside and the temperature drops by about 20 degrees.  It must have been something to see back when there were mature trees all around, plentiful grass for grazing cattle and productive farm plots.

The roof, like the rest of the structure was built from what was available but it is most unique to this area.  Luna used what is known as "wattle and daub", a mud plaster applied to a lattice of ocotillo stems and cane grass.

Wattle and daub method used to make the roof of Luna's jacal.

A little further down Old Maverick Road is a turn-off that leads into what is known as Terlingua Abojo.  There, the Park has established 3 car-camping sites.  Nearby are some rock-structure ruins and, as an added attraction a long since abandoned vehicle.  Left long enough ago that it has switched from being a piece of junk to an artifact.  Disturbing it or removing any pieces will bring a $750 fine.

Terlingua Abajo campsites one and two were built on either side of this old truck.

Back out on Old Maverick we are a lot closer to Santa Elena Canyon.  And at this end of the road it is really good.  It is similar to some unpaved county roads I have been on.  If you didn't mind the rock chips, you could get up some speed on this.

But speed was not our objective.  We were being looky-loos and out for the sights, not distance covered.  Something that caught my attention was a single, giant yucca.  This thing was on the verge of 30 feet tall and so "perfect" it almost looked artificial.  I was struck by a yucca that was so tall and large that it was more like a palm tree than yucca.

By the time we came off Old Maverick it was almost noon and the light was once again of no use to me for photographing the canyon.  We drove the 8 miles to Castalon where there is a visitor center and store.  We took the opportunity to visit with our Castolon Visitor Center volunteer compadre and have lunch at the picnic tables in front of the store.

Although we had been here a couple times before, we had never really explored what Castolon had to offer.  Even though we did this time, we really only scratched the surface.  The buildings down at this southwestern most part of the park date back to turn of the century and earlier.  The park has done little to change the way they were when they took possession of them in 1944.  Roofs and paint was about it.  As we walked around the General Store you could see the "old" in the shelving and sales counter but as I looked around a dark little corner I spied a moment frozen in time.

This old phone was not a prop.  It was hanging right where it was installed nearly a hundred years ago.

Interesting as this place is, we have to go.  We have to get to the river road on the east side of the park before the day is over.  That will be the next post.

Farewell First-Half Volunteers

When we were asked to fill a volunteer position at Big Bend it was always a November 1st to March 31st commitment.  We thought that was the arrangement for all the volunteers but recently some of our new friends started talking about getting ready to leave.  Leave?  What leave?  It is still two months away.

They were just as perplexed about our reaction to their leaving talk as we were to them talking about something we did not think would be a discussion for weeks to come.  Their response was; "what, you are not leaving at the end of January?"  "Nope.  Why, are you?"

Turns out that there is a mid-season turnover of volunteer jobs.  Not all of them, but almost.  A whole new crop of volunteers has showed up and are in the midst of the two week orientation/training program as I write.  Next week will be the big switch when the current volunteers will extract themselves from their in-park housing and the new volunteers will move in.  Quite a production.

We have since had a volunteer awards banquet, a pot-luck prepared by the full-time staff.  Most of us were able to get together and socialize a little before getting dispersed to the four winds.  Each volunteer or pair of volunteers were recognized for their hours of service.  Cyndee and I being the rookies (and youngsters) of the bunch were given a shout-out for our combined service hours at the Grand Canyon and Big Bend, 450 hours.  From there the hour count jumped dramatically, we heard 2,000 then 5,000 then several more above that and finally one guy that had been volunteering for 18 years had racked up 11,000 hours.  Wow.

The banquet was held at the headquarters building in the community room and was an organized affair with a schedule, program and the obligatory PowerPoint presentation sync'd to music.  It was nice but not totally sufficient.  A week later there was a spontaneous effort by the volunteers themselves to get together one last time for pizza at our favorite pizza place in Terlingua, Long Draw Pizza.

It was a pretty short notice affair so folks in some of the more far flung stations couldn't make it but it was still a pretty good turn-out.

The owner of Long Draw Pizza detests the use of cell phones in her establishment.  But she was busy making pizzas so we all snuck out our phones for a couple of quick photos.  This shot takes in the whole place.  My back is to the wall and the other end of the table represents the seating area.

If you have been reading along this blog you may remember a post awhile back where I explained Long Draw Pizza.  It is not big, and fancy is a word that would never be used, but they hand-make a darn good pizza.  Our little party filled the place up and our order consumed all the oven space they have.  And that was fine, all the time it took to make and cook those pizzas was time well used talking about everybody's experiences in Big Bend and next adventure.

A couple that we had made friends with were unable to join us for pizza night but we really wanted to get with them one last time before they took off so we made a dinner date with them for a later night at The Starlight Theatre Restaurant in Terlingua.  They drove the 26 miles from Persimmon Gap to where we are in Panther Junction and then we all loaded up in Big Gulp and drove the next 26 miles to Terlingua.

The Starlight is a local hot spot.  It has had a number of lives dating back to the late 1800's, one of which until recently was a "theatre" (live music, concerts, cowboy poetry and such) in a building with no roof.  That is how it got its name.  But someone finally came along (in fact, the ranger we now work for) and put a roof on and added a kitchen and bar.  It has what passes as fine dining for around here and has thrived ever since.

The Starlight Theatre Restaurant and Bar.  When the sun gets a little lower this porch will be chock-full of people.

Inside the Starlight.  Stage and impressive mural at far end.

For our Sunday evening meal we just about had the place to ourselves.  But it is very different on other nights.  A very popular time is Monday night when you can get two burger plates for the price of one.  And when a burger can run as much as $20 you better believe people take advantage of the discount.

Our dinner companions are like us, this is their first year as full-timing volunteers.  We enjoyed comparing notes and sharing connections for future opportunities.  One thing they have done that we will not be doing is live in Costa Rica for a few years.  They thought Costa Rica was going to be a great, economical place to retire but the cost shot up rapidly in the short time they were there.  They decided to re-tool to be full-time RV'ers in the U.S. and are enjoying the new lifestyle.

We have a whole slug of new emails and phone numbers for keeping up with our new compadres.  Chances are pretty good that we will cross paths with some of them in future volunteer gigs.  So long, for now.

Critters and Scenery

What a week for critter-sighting and scenery.  The weather was gorgeous and the animals seemed amenable.

Beginning at the Chisos Mountains Basin, how about a mid-afternoon moon rise.  Just as it broke over the ridge to the north of Casa Grande. 

A little later the lens effect from the atmosphere was a little less and the moon appeared smaller but sharper.

After lots and lots of hikes, looking for animals and coming up empty handed, right in the parking lot at the Basin Visitor Center I get a Cactus Wren that does not seem the least bit bothered by me walking up and snapping a dozen shots.

Cactus Wren

Then, minutes later and on the exact same yucca, a Say's Phoebe posed for its portrait.  Although it was not quite so tolerant of me getting close like the Cactus Wren was.  By the way, it took a half-dozen books and about eight people to finally identify this little song bird.

Say's Phoebe

The next two shots come from just outside the north boundary of the park.  In a previous post I mentioned the "fins of fire", long, thin ribbons of rock that were formed when magma oozed into cracks of the earths crust.  I finally found one that photographed well enough to give an idea of what I am talking about.

The undulating rock runs miles deep and miles long but only two or three feet wide.

 

 Just a short distance away from the road-side view of the dikes we got a surprise look at a small herd of buffalo.  We have been past this spot a number of times and at varying times of day and never saw a hint of any animal activity.  But today here is a very skittish gathering of cows and bulls.  I just barely got the camera up and snapped a few shots before they had run behind this hill they are standing on.

 Back to the park and Rio Grande Village.  More specifically, Daniels Ranch exhibit and the campground nature trail.  Cyndee and I were on one of our project days so we were in uniform and making contact with visitors.  Turns out our contact with visitors was with more than the people kind.

I think I have mentioned it before, but the Rio Grande River is not all that easy to just walk up to.  It is either bordered by towering cliffs or dense bands of river cane.  The cliffs are easy to understand but it is kind of hard to get your head around the river cane thing.  I think I finally have a couple of shots that gets the idea across.

 

That's Cyndee above, bushwhacking through the river cane.  The river is in there somewhere, we can hear it.



 

We finally got within sight of the river but that is all.  The cane was just too thick to get all the way to the bank.  A large machete would have done the trick but I was not interested in the $750 fine for damaging vegetation that would have come with it.

At the Daniels Ranch exhibit there is a great stand of cottonwood trees and thick brush around the outer edges of the grove.  You could hear all sorts of birds but most were staying concealed in the brush.  But not all.  This ladder back woodpecker was pretty busy working his way around one tree in particular and only took notice of me after I had been following him around the branches for some time.

Ladder Back Woodpecker

 Just down the road from Daniels Ranch is the Rio Grande Village Campground Nature Walk.  The park service has built a pond for the purpose of reviving a species of fish that had dwindled to three individuals.  They call it a mosquito fish and it came very near extinction but this little habitat must be just right because it seems they have done well, numbering in the thousands.

The pond has a series of floating platforms, connected with bridges.  Below Cyndee is making her way out to the first platform.  Each platform has a bench or two, making it easy to linger.

We did not have to look very hard to find fish.  There were schools, or maybe the right name is shoals of fish at the surface almost anywhere you looked.  It was pretty interesting as they had sorted themselves into groups by size.  These guys below were way bigger than the tiniest we saw but not as big as the frying pan-sized ones.

Sharing the pond with the fish was this pie-billed grebe.  The sun was on the wrong side for a proper shot, but it was the only one I was going to get.

And on the opposite bank, in the (you guessed it) river cane was a blue heron.  He was doing some serious preening and it was a long wait for him to pull his head out from under his wing so the shot could be taken.

 The pool car we had checked out had to be back so a ranger could use it to get to an afternoon program she was giving.  It was too early to call it a day so Cyndee walked over to the employee laundry room, which also has a lending library.  The library was in need of some organizing and books that needed to be rotated to lending libraries in other parts of the park.  After a few minutes I heard Cyndee's voice at the door of the camper; "Get your camera and come see this."

She told me to be quite and ease my way around to the shady side of the laundry room and look in the weeds.  And there they were, three javelinas.  Two adults and a juvenile.  I photographed them in the shade for awhile but I think they sensed I was there and started moving.  I circled the opposite way around the laundry room and picked them up as they stepped out into the sun.

The above guy is pretty relaxed at this point but sort of looking over his shoulder, thinking maybe there is something afoot.  A few more steps away and with the security of a bush, he stops to take hard look.

I took a couple of side-steps to get clear of the bush between us and I guess that was all it took for his concerns to be confirmed.

All of sudden he transforms into a razorback, snorts and starts clomping those javelin-shaped teeth together loud enough to make me start checking if I am at a safe enough distance.

At this point we both come to the same conclusion, it is time to move away.  He goes his way, I go the opposite way.

Arrgh, Electronics Again!

It was time for another shopping trip and we once again were going to need to go all the way to Odessa (226 miles) to get access to everything we need.  The weather forecast was calling for afternoon wind so we stowed the satellite dish before departing.

After 14 hours of driving and shopping we returned home in anticipation of watching the late news and getting to bed.  But when the button was pushed to raise the satellite dish, nothing.  It was late so I only checked the easy things with no luck.  The harder things will have to wait after a nights sleep and some daylight.

By 5:00 the next morning my mind was racing with what I could do to track down what the problem is.  As soon as the sun came up I started tracing every line and component, finally ending up on the roof with the conclusion that the problem has to be, once again, the electronics in the base of the dish.  After two hours on the phone with Winegard technical service they too were convinced of the same thing.  For the second time they are going to send me a whole new system.  This time the difference is that I will have to do the install.

Good to their word, Winegard delivered a 75 pound box of equipment by Friday (they shipped it within hours of our phone call on Tues).  Now all I have to do is figure out how to get that heavy thing swapped out.  Fully disassembled, the rotary drive and dish mount get no smaller than 53 pounds.  There are no good options for tying a rope to the base and hoisting it up the 13 feet to the roof, the chance of bending something critical or carving paint off the side of the rig are too great. Using the vertical ladder on the rear of the rig is not going to work, not while holding the heavy and bulky base in one hand and trying to climb with the other.  I'll have another day to think about it.  We have to work Saturday, if the weather holds (meaning no wind) Sunday will be our first chance to try whatever strategy we come up with.

I guess we are living right because come Sunday there was not a whisper of wind, and that is strange for around these parts.  By the time the sun was up I had my folding/retractable ladder extended to its fullest length and anchored firmly in the bed of Big Gulp, which I had backed up to the front end-cap.  I positioned the truck so that the ladder would have a shallow angle and be more like stairs than a ladder.

Up on the roof I disassembled the dead antenna and carried it down on my own but it was clear that going up with the new antenna was going to take more than me.  Cyndee came out and just as we were about to begin a dry run of going through how to make the lift, a neighbor, a volunteer working in the fire department, appeared and asked if he could help.  Still living right I guess.

The neighbor and I got everything bolted in and connected, including replacing every single component between the antenna and the receiver.  Pretty sure it took me two or three times longer than the guys that do this sort of thing for a living, but it got done.   No way was a certified Winegard tech going to drive for eight to ten hours to do it.

RV's, even brand new ones, need a lot of work.  Things break, frequently.  Living in remote areas compounds the difficulties of getting the fixes done.  My hopes of living life carefree of home maintenance is not working out as I had planned.  Sure, I don't mow lawns or do carpentry anymore but there are a lot of systems that are subject to the equivalent of a class II hurricane and magnitude 7.0 earthquake (that lasts for hours) every time you move and that takes it's toll.

From on the roof I called down to Cyndee to hit the power.  For several anxious moments, nothing.  Then to my relief, whirring sounds and movement.  It took it a few minutes to locate itself in space but once it did, it locked onto the three satellites it is assigned to and started streaming signals to the receiver.  We are back in business but with trepidation.  The first dish never worked from day one and the second dish suddenly failed for an unknown reason.  Will the third dish be the charm?

Ancient

There are 1,200 square miles inside the national park called Big Bend.  There are a number of things you can see by car but if you really want to see Big Bend you have to take a walk.  Recently that is just what we did.

Along the Ross Maxwell Scenic drive is a pull-out for The Chimneys trail head.  End to end it is about a 7 mile trail right through the desert.  No hills to climb, no sandy-bottom dry washes, no spring oasis' and no shade trees.  However, there is a geological structure, a string of hoo-doos known as The Chimneys, about 2.5 miles out.  The Chimneys are almost worth the walk out by themselves but add to that that there are petroglyphs and other signs of very old human presence and you have yourself a pretty good reason to spend a chunk of your day in the desert.

That's a lot of desert, and there is even more behind the camera than in front of it.

We take off and start down the trail.  It may be flat but it is not like walking in a city park.  The trail is hard-pack and covered in rocks you can feel through the bottom of your boots.  After awhile things started coming into view that would take your mind off the next rocky step.

The rock outcropping ahead and to the right are The Chimneys.

Cyndee taking in the view amongst the creosote bush and ocotillo.

Looking down Santa Elana Canyon from about 12 miles away.

After about another half hour of walking after the above photos were taken, we arrived at The Chimneys.  You could tell this is a pretty popular place, there were lots of little trails around all the outcroppings and someone even climbed on top of one of the higher prominences while we were there.

Our ultimate destination, the lone chimney.

The string of chimneys running north/south, perpendicular to the trail.

An intrepid climber.  She took a couple of photos and we never saw her again.

On the opposite side of our approach to the chimneys was this little window, a nice bonus.

After photographing the window I turned to look back down the trail we had come.  Rather than seeing the trail, a face appeared in the rocks.  It was like a giant profile of a weathered old man just looking out over the desert.  Moving just a few feet in any direction and this image does not exist.  In all our time in Big Bend and all the books and photo archives we have looked through, I have never seen this image.  I'm going to print this one out and show it around to see if anyone knows about this formation.


Can you see the face?

Okay, time to go look for what we came for, petroglyphs.  We worked our way around the base of the single chimney and came across evidence this place was being used as shelter a long time ago.

The solo chimney.  It is bigger than it looks.

Stacked stone wall on the North side of the chimney.

It is not much, but it was home for generations of nomads.

Grinding stone.  One of many scattered around.  The holes are deep, untold amounts of grain must have been ground. 

Shallower but wider grinding stone.

There really are a lot of these around the base of this chimney.

 Working our way around from the west side of the chimney to the northeast we finally spot what we are seeking.  Higher up, images start to come into view.

The above picture is in natural light and below I hit it with a large flash.  Either way, from this distance it is hard to make anything out.

Climbing up and getting closer doesn't really do much for understanding what the symbols are.  Archeologists have not deciphered most of the writings in the park.  They are thousands of years old and there has never been a "Rosetta stone" discovered that would give them the key to this language.

One of the symbols, a circle with a cross in it, must have looked like a target to people passing through.  By the looks of the impact crater, it may have been buffalo hunters with their large caliber rifles.

There are no benches or picnic tables out here, no place to sit comfortably and rest your barking dogs.  We had been climbing all over the chimneys after a 2.5 mile walk in and now it was time to head back.  The trip back was already looking a lot farther than the trip in.

The good thing was that we would be looking in a different direction and all the sights will be different than they were for the walk in.

A familiar landmark from just about anywhere in the west side of Big Bend, Mule Ears.

Looking to the east at the Chisos Mountains

Part of the trail goes through a creosote bush "forest".

I know there is life in the desert but I had a hard time finding it this day.  This moth was the only thing I saw.

We  could see the car parked in the distance, so close yet so far.  And the longer we walked towards it, the farther away it seemed to get.  Our hike was transforming into a march - your left, your left, your left, right, left.  Just get one foot in front of the other and eventually that car will be within grasp.

And finally it was.  Those crummy little seats in the HHR never felt so good.  We got the A/C cranked up and sat and drank what was left of our water then headed for the barn, checked in the car, got in Big Gulp to get us home where we promptly collapsed into what we thought was a well deserved nap. 

You think an old person wrote this?