Winding Down at Big Bend

We are coming up on our last week of work at Big Bend.  It won't be long before we'll be hitching up and off to our next new adventure.  But before we satisfy our hitch-itch there are a few things we are trying to cram in.  Between our work schedule and the weather there were places we never got to and plants and animals left unphotographed.

Happily, while on duty at the Chisos Basin Visitor Center a Road Runner had moved to higher elevations with the rise in temperatures.  I guess his hunting opportunities were looking up in the trees and brush around the lodge.  I grabbed the camera and headed for the far end of the parking lot to stalk my prey.

Checking the high branches.

Checking the low branches.

Nothing much up here.  Time to look for greener pastures.

Scouting the parking lot.

And we're off!  I think I heard a meep! meep! this time.

Word is getting around that we, and a couple of other volunteers are leaving soon.  One of the law enforcement rangers wanted to do a little something so he arranged a pot luck dinner/party.  The decision was to have it at the volunteers residence section in the West District.  Its a little loop just off the pavement, opposite Cottonwood Campground, adjacent to the water plant.

Once the folks at the western-most (inhabited) part of the park found out they were hosting, they pulled out all the stoppers.  Tiki lights, chili pepper lights, paper lanterns and other do-dads were hung from anything that was more than five feet tall.  Brightly colored table cloths came out and were soon covered with all different kinds of dishes and concoctions from dutch ovens or one of the grills set up for the occasion.  Cyndee made up a big crock pot full of southwest soup.  Doing potlucks are justifiable excuses for going off the diet reservation.

The group getting together and set up just before the sun goes down.

Cyndee enjoying conversation with one of our counterparts in the Chisos Basin Visitor Center.  Phil and his wife Peggy are returning Basin Hosts and both are Master Naturalists.  They do interpretive programs on geology, flowers and grasses.

That's Daisy sitting at the table.  She has been volunteering in Big Bend for years and done a variety of jobs; camp host, maintenance, and trail guide.  She and her partner, Steve know places in the park that others can't find without their help.

Steve and Tina have their backs to the camera.  These two are amazing, they work in visitor protection and patrol backcountry trails and roads.  Some days they would go up and down the mountain two or three times while it took others all day to do it just once.

The intent of this picture was to capture the twinkling lights of the party but I inadvertently captured a sunset that had faded from yellows and reds to a brilliant blue.

It was a gorgeous evening.  We had been having so much wind for days and days that we were expecting to have to weight everything down and wind-swept grit in our food.  But it was anything but windy, there was barely a breath of air and the temperature could not have been more perfect.  We did not even have the normal 20 degree drop when the sun went down, it simply stayed perfect.  The party lasted about twice as long as any of us expected.  It was just too nice to let it go and head home.

But eventually things started to break up, many had to work the next day.  We loaded all our stuff back in Big Gulp, rolled the windows down and started the slow cruise back across the 38 miles to Panther Junction.  But we had just barely got started when we saw something in the road.  It was pitch black now and there was something long and light-colored stretched across the road just ahead.

Finally!  After five months in the desert, a mostly freezing five months, I am getting to see one of the "locals".  There is a huge variety of cold-blooded animals in Big Bend, more than anywhere else, but they have been mighty scarce during the unusually long, cold winter.  But tonight the air is warm and the strong sun of the afternoon had heated the asphalt enough to be inviting to a nice sized diamond back rattlesnake.

As rattlesnakes go, this one was a little thin.  (S)he had not been out of the den long enough to enjoy the multitudes of mice that have been scurrying about everywhere.  I'll bet it won't be long before that changes.

I got close enough to get a good look at the tail.  This one had eight rattles but the button was broke off.  There were eight segments on the rattler but they molt two or three times a year so you can't tell exactly how old they are by counting the rings.  But since the alternating black and white bands on its tail are very distinct, this one is pretty young.  They'll fade, blur and become more camouflaged when mature.

So much in just the last couple days.  If it keeps this up the blog is going to swell.

Day Trip

We have been learning that the pursuit of our volunteer career requires a little more than just showing up.  To get our first job as campground hosts we had to sign a release for a background check and sit through a safety orientation for a couple of hours.  For our next post as visitor center hosts we had to go through a deeper background check, this one requiring a print from all ten fingers.  And the training ballooned to two weeks.  Recently we have learned that the last, more in-depth background check has only a six month life span.  If we are to return to a position that gives us access to NPS cash registers and computers we have to submit to an even deeper background check.  But once this one is done it will be good for "life", provided we never have more than a two year lapse in a NPS job.

This latest background check requires a new, full set of fingerprints and filling out what seemed like a 25 page questionnaire, but was probably just shy of ten.  It was an on-line process so I don't know exactly, I just know it was a lot of questions.  And let me apologize now to the friends we were required to write down as references.  You will be getting a call from the gub'ment.  Family does not have to worry about it, they would not let us use your names.

The great state of Texas is also in need of a set of fingerprints.  Nothing to do with our National Park volunteering, just a continuation of moving all our Georgia legal documents and licenses we had there to our new domicile state.  And, of course, the national fingerprint system does not work for the state fingerprints.  The national system is old-school ink and paper, the state uses digital scanners.

But that is good as far as we are concerned, that means we have to take a trip to Alpine (closest town with a digital finger printer) which means that we have to have lunch at Reata and we have to stop at the Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Yes, we have to.

We like going to Alpine, they have more than one full-service grocery store, an Ace True Value that is huge and has a Radio Shack inside it and Big Bend Saddlery.  If you like the smell of leather, you'll love this place.  And it is a university town too, home to Sul Ross State University.  Go Lobos.

Sheesh, I've been in a remote location too long.  When an Ace Hardware and Dairy Queen are exciting you know it is time to check in with a little more populated part of the country.

But for now we are continuing to be excited about our day trip to Alpine.  Just finding the finger printing office was an adventure.  You would think that in a dinky little town, and with an address in hand, you could find anything you were looking for in five minutes.  Not even close.  Turns out that our address of 7000 was between the blocks of 3100 and 3200, and that there was no (visible) signage.  After circling around for awhile we finally gave up and pulled into the police station.  Surely they would know where the fingerprinting office is.  Nope, not a clue.  Couldn't even tell us where the address was.  Out of desperation we went in a school that was occupying the block that we were trying to find.  It felt weird just walking in the door.  It was wide open, there was no security, no place to 'sign in' and not a soul in sight to ask us what we were doing there.  We split up, each trying to find an office or something where there might be somebody that could help us out.  We each did find someone and were told the same thing - just go down the hall, make a left and you are there.  Seriously, a fingerprinting business right in the school, just two doors down from the computer lab?

As we were walking I was talking and Cyndee was shushing me. "Quiet, you're disturbing the classes" she said as my voice echoed off the gleaming polished tile floor and granite walls (this place is the one they refer to when they say they don't build them like they used to).  But we turned the corner and there it was, a stark, partitioned room.  One side for waiting (three chairs and a miniature boom box tuned to a local radio station) and the other side with a desk, computer, and finger scanner.

The lady manning the desk would not take us both at the same time, we each had to stay in the waiting room while the other got printed.  But she was good at her job and we were out of there in no time, once again stepping through the halls of higher learning as we made our way back to Big Gulp.

While getting around town, just as we passed through an intersection, I caught a glimpse of something.  It made me take a second look, and there it was, The Cow Dog.  An infamous lunch wagon that ply's the streets of Alpine hawking its unique menu of hot dogs.  I moved over a lane so I could turn and go around the block.  Never mind that I had just finished a big lunch at the Reata and never mind I had already had my large Dairy Queen Blizzard with Oreos and Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, I was going to have me one of those dogs!

I got out of the truck and approached the Cow Dog from its driver side.  I was so determined to get to the order window that I did not notice the absence of people.  Only when I got around to the other side did it become painfully obvious that it was closed for the day.  I had missed my chance at hot dog heaven by only twenty minutes.

My stomach was saying "Thank Goodness" but my taste buds were screaming "Nooooo".  Well, I guess we'll just have to make another trip to Alpine before we get completely gone.  But as a reminder of what is to come, below is a menu that I plan to have at least one of each.

Now that our time to depart Big Bend is drawing near, Cyndee and I have found ourselves making plans of all the things we want to do when we get back to civilization, even if we will only be in it for a couple of weeks.  But right now we are going to enjoy the drive from Alpine to Terlingua.  The sun setting on all the ancient volcanoes and mesas is quit a sight.

Spring Break

Things had gotten into a bit of a rut lately.  If it were not for the challenge of dealing with the wind, it would be hard to tell one day from the next.  Here in the Big Bend March has certainly roared in like a lion.  That would be okay if it would live up to the agreement that it should go out like a lamb but there is none of that.  With the exception of a few hours here and there, the wind is inescapable.

But we did have a little something to stir things up besides the wind.  Spring Break!  We had a crazy ten day period.  The whole state of Texas as well as most of New Mexico and Arizona let school out at the same time.  I can say with no hesitation that not every spring breaker goes to the beach for the holiday.  Our visitor count at the Chisos Basin Visitor Center jumped from just over one hundred a day in February to roughly six hundred fifty a day once spring break got underway.

The above photo was taken on a Wednesday.  This is Cyndee's and my day to roam the park but the basin visitor center needed supplies and change for both registers, so we made a delivery.  This is the way it looked inside the basin visitor center for a solid week.  The ranger behind the counter with the hat on is our supervisor, Ranger Rob.

The warmer weather that has attracted the spring break revelers has also seen the coming of migratory birds, bears coming out of dens with new cubs, reptiles warming up enough to move out of their burrows, and the leafing-out of mesquite trees, the last of the trees to decide it is safe to expose tender new growth to the desert night.  A sure sign there will be no more freezes.

Just before spring break commenced we made a trip down to the Rio Grande Village and visited the nature trail and Daniel's Ranch.  We heard that the birds had started showing up so we went to see what had come in.

Standing on a bluff above the Rio Grande Village camp ground.  Looking west the Chisos Mountain range is visible in the distance.

 At this time the cottonwood trees were just beginning to fill in their crowns with pale, tender growth.  While admiring the promise of spring I became aware of a presence and there, on a rock, about waist high to me sat a bird.  A rock wren to be more specific.  He seemed to be as interested in me as I was him.

 

While the rock wren was not the least bit bothered by my presence, the same can not be said for other birds we have been trying to spot.  At Daniel's Ranch the vermillion flycatchers have arrived enmasse.  But while there were plenty of them about, they were very fidgety and really hard to get close enough to photograph, even with a 300mm lens.

 

I finally resorted to bracing the camera against a tree and waiting for a bird to appear in the lens.  Being at a significant distance made the field of view pretty large.  Whenever I saw something red I just held the shutter button down and hoped for the best.  What you see below is the result of heavy cropping and enlarging.

 



 

 The above series was pretty nice since there was direct sunlight making the most out of the brilliant red feathers.  When I took the next shots I thought they would be little more than silhouettes but when I got home and looked at them on a large screen I was pleasantly surprised.



 

The sun shining through the wing feathers and the feet releasing their grip on the branch was a double bonus.

On the way out of Rio Grande Village we took a side road that services the port of entry.  This little area has seen the rise and fall of tiny communities.  Sometimes supporting farming, sometimes mining but always a monumental struggle to eek out a living in this hard country.  And sometimes this was the place where lives ended.  Like life was lived, death was attended to in the same manner.  People made do with what they had, which usually was not much.

Crosses, but not names mark these graves that have a view of the Chief Border Patrol house.

 On a grocery run to Fort Stockton we got an early start.  It was going to be a long day because in addition to acquiring a months worth of sustenance we were also going to have the truck serviced in preparation for our departure from Texas.  And a trip to the pharmacy, and the strip mall, and lunch at K-Bob's.  But on the way we have to cross a lot of ground and at that time of the morning driving requires plenty of alertness to avoid critters on the road.  It is a pretty serious game of rabbit dodge, deer dodge, coyote dodge, and javelina dodge.

But not everything is on the road.  We know to look for raptors sitting on telephone poles, warming themselves in the morning sun and waiting for the thermals to build that will be their locomotion for their hunting from on high.

We spotted the below hawk from a distance, just before border patrol station south of Marathon.  There was nobody on the road and we coasted to a stop and I got out and walked across the highway towards the hawk, snapping pictures with each step.

This shot was the last one before he decided he had had just about enough of me.

He turned his back on me and got pointed into the wind.

And with a heave from his legs he was airborne without so much as a flap.

In another second his legs were tucked, wings curved to maximize lift and tail ruddering him away from me with great efficiency.

Fort Stockton is a 126 mile drive (one way) from where we are parked in Big Bend National Park.  After driving that far I have expectations of getting what I have come for.  For around these parts I guess that is leaving myself open for disappointment.  There is a Walmart Supercenter there and Walmart has consistently been our go-to store to find all the things we need for our eating habits. like salt-free and sugar-free spices, sugar-free cereal and a bunch of other something-free stuff.  But the Fort Stockton Walmart has mostly shelves that are free of stock.  I honestly think that they do not know how to order supplies.  There are literally isles with nothing on the shelves.  And this is not a one time thing.  We have been going in there for five months and it is always the same.  We had to drive the extra hundred miles to Odessa to get what we needed.

But with it getting so close to our time to depart Big Bend we made do with what we could get knowing we will be in Midland and Odessa the first of April (about a month from this trip).  The nice thing about this trip is that we did all this stuff and will be pulling up to our rig while it is still daylight.  We'll have groceries put away and a glass of iced tea in hand just in time to watch The Big Bang Theory.

Great Weather

With the weather being so great it is easy to get out and enjoy Big Bend.  On a whim we struck out for a hike to a place we had been thinking about for awhile now.  Like the hike in the Santa Elena Canyon, this one was short and easy.  The Burro Mesa Pour Off is only a half mile up a canyon, walking a sandy dry wash.

Curiously, there were no critters to be seen on this day, but the geology was pretty spectacular on its own.  After a 25 mile drive from our camper in Panther Junction to the parking lot for the lower Burro Mesa we tighten our boot laces and shoulder our cameras for the walk to the pour off.

As far as mesas go, Burro Mesa is not particularly large.  It takes in a few square miles but it is dwarfed by other mesas in the Trans Pecos region.  A couple of the really big ones have become home to wind generator farms with hundreds of those giant windmills atop them.  Burro Mesa could probably accommodate no more than ten.

While its physical size may be small, Burro Mesa's geology is huge.  The cut in the canyon wall leading up to the pour off is like reading a book that spans 200 million years of history.  The layers are so distinctive that the most amateur geologist can read the layers.  The ancient sea bed is clearly visible with distinct layers lava bombs jutting out from the sandstone.  Rocks hurled into the shallow sea from violent eruptions miles away.  And finally, capping the sandstone sea bed is a thick layer lava flows, formed over millions of years by much closer volcanoes than the ones that planted lava bombs.

But the goal was to get to the pour off and in a short while we were there.  For what we had become accustomed to thinking of as small, we were a little gob-smacked by the sight of the pour off.





 

I fell like a broken record saying that the scale of this is difficult to convey with a photograph, but that is what it is.  And seeing what the water has sculpted out of the rock is also difficult to convey.  The white sandstone of the ancient sea bed is softer than the overlaying volcanic rock and it has been etched away by the elements faster.  That's pretty cool but what the water has done to the volcanic rock is what struck me.  In the photo above the dark vertical streak in the center of the frame is nearly a perfect half-pipe.  And it is not diminutive either, it is not inches wide but feet wide.  A little more than ten at the narrowest point near the bottom and more than 20 at the top.

 

This time I got Cyndee to put herself in the frame for scale.  You have to look close, but she is there.

 



 As volunteers for the National Park Service this is our workplace.  What do you think of our office?

Canyon Hike

I've posted a number of photos of Santa Elena Canyon from a distance or just at the mouth but with the weather turning great of late we took the opportunity to do a sunrise hike into the canyon.

This is an easy hike as far as physical difficulty goes but it does not mean its a mediocre view. 
The canyon walls are 1,500 feet high and the river runs narrow.  No sun penetrates into the canyon during the winter and as deep as it is, I doubt if sun directly hits the bottom any time of the year.

Sunrise at the mouth of Santa Elena Canyon

Right at the mouth of the canyon there is an up and over that has to be climbed.  It is a series of switchbacks but they are bordered by handrails and roughly paved with asphalt.  But once you get to the top you are on a more common dirt trail that gradually works its way down to river level.



Inside the canyon and down at river level the eons of rock layers are exposed.  The mouth of the canyon is to the left and the origin of our hike.

The trail into the canyon is about three quarters of a mile long with lots of interesting geology to look at along the way.  We could also hear the distinctive call of canyon wrens and occasionally caught a glimpse of a swift diving down and skimming along at the surface of the river.  It is still a little on the cool side to expect to see any reptiles, maybe in a couple more weeks.

A wide sandbar on the U.S. side of the river is populated with cottonwood samplings, grasses and river cane.

The enormity of this place is inspiring and now that we are well into the canyon we have discovered the most awesome echo.  We have the place to ourselves since it is so early in the morning so like a couple of school kids we let go with whoops, hollers and even a Tarzan yell.

Enormity seems to be a repeating theme.  Midway through the hike we come across a large boulder in the trail.  Coming around a corner in the trail you look up and see this behemoth and spontaneously say woowww.

Boulder along the Santa Elena Canyon Trail.

In the above picture, without scale, it is tough to tell just how big of an impediment this rock is to our hike.  But I can assure you that it was perfectly clear that we were not going over it, around was the only option.

That's one big rock.  We'll be taking the trail around, not over it.

Cyndee had the wherewithal to take a picture with me standing in front of the rock for scale.  I'm sure glad we were not anywhere near this thing when it fell from the cliff above and buried itself God knows how deep in the river bottom.

Great morning.