Big Bend and Guadalupe :: March 2002
My second trip to Big Bend didn't spark as many realizations as the first. I hiked a trail which proved to be awful on my feet, since it ran along a creekbed and was almost all gravel. Coming back, I got lost briefly, and decided to finally try to go across to Mexico. I was greeted by snobby Rice students who told me I didn't have enough money to use the ferry. Of course, travel to Mexico there is now illegal, since terrorists are everywhere, especially in Big Bend. A crazy drive down State Highway 54 to Autechre's Amber, spotting the clouds coming over the moutains to the west, illuminated by the distant lights of El Paso (a memorable sight). A night in Carlsbad (shithole), then back south to Guadalupe Peak, which was once used as a landmark by stagecoaches. The park ranger, the eyes of stinky, bearded campers, and a passing camera-laden German man all told me not to go to the top because of the weather. I made it in roughly 3.5 hours, having almost been knocked down by the wind at least 3 times. There is a landmark and a small metal box at the top, with the anticipated thoughts and stories of death-fearing tourists. I don't remember what I wrote. The salt beds to the west were my favorite sight, which I did not get to see up closely then, but hopefully will soon. The drive back was especially long, and I don't remember all of it.