Big Bend, Carlsbad, Bosque, Petrified Forest – Day 3

We only have to drive north about 280 miles today, and so with that knowledge, we can linger out here at Big Bend National Park among the cactus, shrubs, brown grasses, and whatever else might come our way. While there may be things for us to come back to on a future visit, we also have to take into account that this is way off the beaten path. At this moment, we are about 740 miles from home or approximately 1200 kilometers, not the quickest of drives to make.

I should have had Caroline put her head down here for scale because these are the biggest cactus paddles I have ever seen.

We’re out wandering through the park on our way to nowhere in particular. Once we arrived this morning, we headed over to the Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive and have been digging it so far.

Wow, it’s a staredown with a javelina, and I can only hope it’s not feeling intimidated, as I’d prefer that it keeps its distance. I’ve heard somewhere that they have poor eyesight but an acute sense of smell so that while we may be a blur they can smell our presence. Here’s wishing this one smells our curiosity and inches peacefully closer so we can get a better look. Shortly after seeing this guy and not very far from the Castolon Visitor Center, a mountain lion leaped across the road. There was no way in the half-second it moved between the deep grasses across two lanes that I was ever going to be able to take its photo, but there it was, the very first mountain lion in the wild we had ever seen. Of course, we stopped at the visitor center and reported our sightings.

Yesterday, we thought we were near the Santa Elena Canyon, but we were closer to the boat launch than the canyon trail, and so on the recommendation of a ranger, we are taking the short walk on that trail that takes us right to the Rio Grande.

Mexico is so close we could reach out and touch it. What a beautiful canyon this is.

Our exit from the park will be off the Old Maverick Road; it’s unpaved and dusty in sections, but it does take us by an old stone house called Luna’s Jacal. Turns out that old man Luna built a very short house of rock, earth, and plant fiber, which allowed it to remain cooler in the blistering summer temperatures. He farmed out here by diverting water out of nearby Alamo Creek. Some people choose a hard life, others have no choice.

Fort Davis National Historic Site is our next stop on this Christmas journey through the desert.

This one-time frontier military post played a key role in the war to clear Native Americans from their lands, and to be honest; I’m conflicted that we have monuments to our ancestor’s determination to relocate or exterminate a people. Earlier, we’d passed a monument erected in 1936 that recognized a ranch and its role during the clearing of Indians and bandits back in 1880 – 1882. Relating bandits in the same sentence with Native Americans feels pretty damn disparaging to me. While I can appreciate the historic nature of these buildings at the fort, I feel that the wrong committed out of here is not adequately acknowledged. I suppose, though, that is the nature of the perspective of the winners; had Hitler won World War II, I guess Dachau could be a monument to the period when the country was clearing the land of Jews.

Up here, at the elevation of 6,791 feet above sea level on Mount Locke, is the McDonald Observatory. This is a bonus site on this trip, as we had no idea that we’d find an observatory out here.

With about 60 miles between us and any city of relatively medium size and being over a mile above sea level, it makes perfect sense to place a number of telescopes out here.

The visitor center is already closed, and it’s too early to get a look at the stars. Doesn’t matter, though, as you typically need reservations, and events are held sporadically; better to check their event calendar should you decide to visit.

I don’t know what happened to the day, and then all of a sudden, we are moving into the night. Oh yeah, it’s wintertime, and the days are short. Up to Van Horn on Interstate 10 for our overnight in some anonymous cheap motel.

Big Bend, Carlsbad, Bosque, Petrified Forest – Day 2

It never fails that getting away from a major freeway allows us to see the world change in dramatic and beautiful ways. We are well outside of El Paso now; as a matter of fact, we entered Texas at 6:00 this morning. By the time we stopped for this photo of the pony in the rising sun, we were on the US-90.

Good thing we have our ice chest with us because eating here at the old HiWay Cafe is now out of the question.

Well, no wonder the cafe had problems staying in business; the town of Valentine, where it’s at has a population of only 217.

Update: As of 2016, the population has dwindled to only 125 residents. By 2023, it was 73.

Welcome to Marfa! I’d already known the name of this town from a stint in drug/alcohol rehab I did back in 1983 (I think that was the year). By some freak chance, I ended up in a hospital in Century City, California, across the street from the Twin Towers as they were known (used for the exterior shots of the TV series L.A. Law), and after I’d been there about a week some homeless guy was brought in by a taxi driver who told the people that greeted this transient that he’d been on the floor of the taxi tripping out about the threat of being shot on his way in.

More than a few of us wondered why they allowed the heavily bearded old guy in this place on the edge of Beverly Hills. Over the next days, I’d walk by his room, and on one occasion I heard him listening to Kraftwerk, which at the time seemed kind of out of the ordinary. Another time, I caught the Screamers and thought, “NO WAY!” I was 20 years old and had been deep into the Los Angeles punk scene, and this dude was just too old for punk; he was probably about 50. Yeah, one more time strolling by, except this time, I thought I was hearing Devo’s rumored but unreleased Muzak recordings. I had to stop in and ask.

The guy had told me that the Screamers had recently played at his birthday party. I was incredulous. Regarding Devo, I was correct, and he told me that Mark Mothersbaugh was his friend. “So, who are you?” He answers me with another question, “Have you ever seen the film Giant with James Dean?” My answer was no, as I loved horror and sci-fi growing up. “Well, what about the film Easy Rider?” I excused myself, explaining I was a punk/industrial kind of person and that the hippy stuff of the late ’60s was more my dad’s generation than mine. “What about Apocalypse Now?” With that, he struck a nerve: he was the crazy photographer! I had just met Dennis Hopper. The old guy taught me a lot over the next couple of weeks, including planting the seed of taking an interest in his film career that early on took him to Marfa, Texas, where he was featured in the film Giant with James Dean and Elizabeth Taylor.

Out of Marfa and onto US-67 heading for the Mexican border. Along the way, we passed through the Shafter Ghost Town; not many ghosts, but many ruins remain, although they are fading from the sun and wind that constantly gnaw at their existence.

This old javelina didn’t make it out of town and was lying here drying out like the rest of everything that passes through. Looking back, I should have grabbed one of those fangs for a pendant, though I guess that practice was reserved for those who took the animal’s life.

Entering a familiar-looking country reminiscent of Arizona. Strange to think that we’re in America, but just a stone’s throw across the river is Mexico. We tried visiting Fort Leaton State Historic Site in Presidio, but it was locked up tight, the first place to put on the list of places to come back to.

How this “stream” got named the Grand or Big River is beyond me, but this slice between Mexico and the United States is the famous Rio Grande, sometimes known as Rio Bravo. It’s really true what Will Rogers once said about it, “The only river I know of that is in need of irrigating.”

Hoodoos in Texas, who knew?

Back in the day, maybe John Wayne and Clint Eastwood visited these places, but today, there are very few people wandering around and even fewer living out here. The truth is more mundane, with this place called Contrabando having been built in 1985 for a Roy Clark film titled Uphill All The Way.

Update: A flood six years after we visited caused serious damage, and by 2015, most of the buildings were removed.

This National Park right here is the primary reason for our visit to our southern border in deep Texas. Big Bend seemed like a remote enough corner that might not be too busy on Christmas day, and so here we are.

Just us and the tarantulas. Well, there are probably some snakes, scorpions, bats, coyotes, and a few javelinas roaming around too.

With a loose framework identified for this road trip, you can bet we don’t have much time to explore the longer trails that might show us some of the more off-the-beaten-path locations. We’ll just add Big Bend to the list of places we’d like to return to.

On our way to the park, we had stopped in Terlingua to check into the Longhorn Ranch Motel and RV Park to ensure we had a room for the night else we would have had to leave the area early and head up to Alpine, Texas, on the US-90 for our overnight. With plenty of time now available, we were able to take a hike out along the Rio Grande and enjoy the sunset. We can report that in our entire time along the river from Presidio to Lajita for nearly 50 miles and then again here in the park, we never once encountered the hordes of immigrants racing across the border that so many people up north fear. Matter of fact, in talking with some locals, they said the border issue is grossly overblown and that for hundreds of years, people have been going back and forth across this border for work and family without issue. Sadly that lack of hysteria doesn’t sell well to idiots who feel that the potentially shitty jobs that immigrants often take are under threat.

Caroline is dipping her feet in the Rio Grande near Santa Elena Canyon. She would have walked in, but how would it have looked if, at that moment, an official or border agent had seen her walking out of the Rio Grande coming from the direction of Mexico, which is just 30 feet away? What we did see in Mexico were a few wild donkeys yay, wildlife!

I have to wonder which side is Mexican sunset and which side is American sunset and if they have to have papers to cross borders. Merry Christmas, everyone.

Big Bend, Carlsbad, Bosque, Petrified Forest – Day 1

Caroline Wise and John Wise leaving Arizona

This is our last trip out of Phoenix for the year 2002. It is also our 22nd excursion out of our routine unless one were to start considering that traveling is our routine. As is becoming the norm, we have left in the late afternoon and will drive until tired.

Sands Motel in Las Cruces, New Mexico

After about 350 miles of driving into the night, our next possibility for a motel in El Paso, Texas, so instead of driving the 46 miles there, we decided to stay here in Las Cruces, New Mexico, at the Sands Motel. Beyond El Paso, it looked like we’d have another 120 miles to Van Horn, Texas before we might find another spot for lodging, and that would have given us another two-and-a-half-hour of driving without the guarantee of finding a room for the night.

While it’s great being relatively spontaneous on many of our travels, we are also aware of the risk of running into places that, for one reason or another, are sold out.

Pacific Northwest – Day 7

On the road in California

We couldn’t afford a steed, so we took this old dirty Beetle and made our way west.

On the road in California

There was no sunset to ride into, so we followed the gray skies, hoping they’d deliver us to paradise.

Calico Ghost Town in California

Then, we found the first big city out on the California frontier. It was paradise to us.

Caroline Wise and John Wise in Calico Ghost Town in California

She was reluctant at first to marry me, but with the handcuffs on and me ready to put a slug in her gut, she agreed, and soon we were wed.

Calico Ghost Town in California

We moved into our new house not too far from the ocean; we had a good life. Soon Caroline was pregnant, and I was the happy father of four boys and twin girls. Sure, living with eight of us in a small one-room stone hut wasn’t easy, but it’s what we had, and we weren’t ones to complain.

Caroline Wise and John Wise in Calico Ghost Town in California

As we aged in the California desert, I took up the job of town preacher and undertaker; Caroline helped make folks look good before we put them in the ground.

On the road in California

The sunny days went by until there were none left, and a new undertaker planted us, but our time out west was fruitful, and our children will be there to carry on our legacy and celebrate our memory.

Pacific Northwest – Day 6

Near the California State Line

Smart would have been to stay on Interstate 5 to make our way home, but the Redwoods and another glance at the ocean were calling. In Grant Pass, Oregon, we decided to deviate and get on the 199 that took us through O’Brien, Oregon, before dropping us into California on a new border crossing we’ve not traveled on yet.

Northern California Forest

We are on the edge of the Redwoods.

Northern California Forest

And are about to get on a trail to have a closer look at these coastal giants.

Redwoods National Park in California

It’s not every day that we get to see such giant root balls.

Redwoods National Park in California

But it does seem like it’s almost every day we get to see ferns, well, at least four days in a row on this trip.

Redwoods National Park in California

Trees growing on trees are an interesting sight. Somehow, I have to think about Alien when looking at this parasitic relationship.

California Coast

We can never see enough of the ocean and would rather sacrifice some sleep and driving comfort to have one more beautiful encounter with it than the convenience of arriving home early just to catch up on laundry or some other mundane nonsense.

California Coast

Seeing we are here, we might as well go for it and visit a beach we’ve never explored before.

Fern Canyon in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

And while we’re at it, why not head down this small road on the Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park to visit Fern Canyon?

Coast along the road to Fern Canyon in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

Nice views of the ocean can be had out here.

Fern Canyon in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

But also some amazing god rays cutting through the thin veneer of nearly invisible fog.

Fern Canyon in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

Here we are at Fern Canyon, unprepared for a hike through the stream, but the view is amazing all the same for how far we did get to walk into the canyon.

Fern Canyon in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

The colors of fall.

Fern Canyon in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

And the water that sustains all of this life…

Fern Canyon in Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, California

…where once again, we encounter the mushrooms that are such an important part of this ecosystem.

Sunset on the California Coast

Well, this is kind of pathetic as here it is getting dark and we’ve just again reached the ocean. We left the 101 in Leggett, California, and thought, “Just how long could it take to get out to the ocean for one final look?” Turns out that Highway 1 from Leggett to Hardy is a switchback nightmare that took forever, and while we missed the sunset, we were still able to capture some of the glowing remnants.

Sunset on the California Coast

To help shorten our drive home tomorrow, we decided to keep driving past Fort Bragg and managed to stay awake until Pleasant Hill, California, which is in the Bay Area.