Rio Grande - Epilogue

Note: Left click on any photo to enlarge.

We arose fairly early on Monday morning, determined to enjoy some of the Chisos Basin sites (and sights) before leaving for San Antonio. The Basin Loop Trail provided a perfect start to the day, and we were headed there by 7:00, just as the sun was rising. Despite Mike's misgivings about my shortcut to the trail, remembered from my honeymoon thirty-two years earlier, we located the trail just past the old stone cottages, which date from WPA days. The trail makes a loop of about 1.75 miles and connects the beginnings of the Pinnacles Trail (which is where we started) and the Laguna Meadows Trail. It gave us a good view of the Window (which is framed by Carter Peak on the left and Vernon Bailey Peak on the right), as seen above with Zoltan and Mike, and of the mountains which ring the Basin.

A Rufous-Sided Towhee entertained us for a while, or perhaps we were its morning diversion.

We spent a leisurely ninety minutes on the hike, and were rewarded towards the end with this view of the sun rising over Toll Mountain and Casa Grande behind us (note the shadows) and striking the Window and the Chihuahuan Desert beyond. The short hike left us ready for some food. The breakfast buffet at the Lodge Restaurant hit the spot, after which we packed our gear and checked out of the motel room.

We then drove down to the Basin Campground parking lot, and walked the short distance from the lot to the trailhead for the Window Trail. From there, the trail descends through Oak Creek Canyon, dropping about 450 feet in elevation over a distance of 2.2 miles to our destination - the pour-off at the Window. We started down the trail around 10:00. Here is Mike on the trail, with a century plant above him and Carter Peak in the background.

A colorful grasshopper along the trail. Where the dirt was softer on the trail, we saw tracks for a much larger animal, either a mountain lion or a black bear.

Above us were the moon, Vernon Bailey Peak, and a century plant.

Here we are at the end of the trail, with the narrow pour-off at the Window just a few steps behind us. It had taken us about an hour and a quarter to reach the Window. This is the sole drainage for all of the Chisos Basin. Although dry when we arrived, there are times when a waterfall will descend from here.

The view through the Window.

After spending about thirty minutes enjoying the view, occasional solitude (two fellows from Louisiana were there when we arrived, and a young German couple joined us after those two had left), and a snack, we headed back up the trail. As you can see from the photo above, the trail is very well maintained, particularly towards the end where it runs along (and sometimes in) Oak Creek.

There were occasional small pools of water, and even a few tiny waterfalls, along this bottom part of the trail.

About a quarter mile back up the Window Trail, the Oak Spring Trail branches off and climbs up the north side of the Window along the shoulder of Vernon Bailey Peak. I had started up this trail more than thirteen years earlier when I had last visited Big Bend with the family, but had turned back after just a few minutes because of wifely reminders about time constraints. Now I was determined to proceed at least far enough to catch a view of the desert floor beyond the Window, although I was under strict orders from Mike as to when his truck would be departing the Basin on its way back to San Antonio (hopefully with me in it). Since I didn't have a watch, I had to rely upon my wilderness experience and old Native American tricks to determine the time from the angle of the sun, the shadows on the distant mountain ranges, the grunting of javelinas, the scurrying of lizards, and the lack of moss on the desert plants. As a last resort, I instead went deep into my digital camera's settings to see the time and date, only to discover that it was thirteen months behind. So I hurried a little faster as I climbed up the Oak Spring Trail.

The view west as the trail curved around the shoulder of Vernon Bailey Peak was as nice as I had hoped.

With the Window directly below me to the left, the look south afforded me a view of the Mesa de Aguila and its counterpart on the Mexican side of the river, Sierra Ponce. It is across this uplifted fault block that the Rio Grande has carved the impressive Santa Elena Canyon. I believe that the mesa is the second-to-last, darker ridge line on the horizon, shown in these two photos. I also thought I spotted a gap in the mesa, the entrance to the canyon. That feature is not quite visible in the photos.

This is the view looking back to the east and into the Basin. The line running along the bottom of the photo from the left to the center is Oak Spring Trail. I had ventured off the trail to get as close as possible to a point directly above the Window.

As I climbed back up the Window Trail, I took this last photo of Casa Grande.




A Roadrunner scurried along in front of me as I walked through the campground after leaving the Window Trail.

When I reached the campground parking lot a good half hour before the deadline, I discovered that Mike and Zoltan had already retrieved the boat trailer from where we had left it at the Lodge and were ready to head home. Their patience was most admirable.

Note: For an additional 20 photos of our last day in Big Bend, click on this link to my Flickr page, then select "Slideshow."

Rio Grande - Day 3

Although the sky had started to look somewhat threatening the night before, we awoke to another beautiful day on Sunday morning. And with my tent positioned properly with regard to the primary snorers, I had slept well - even without my earplugs.

Eddie finds a way to stir his morning coffee as Cynthia, Zoltan, and Sandra take notes.

Even the groover was set up with its own view of the river. One of the great advantages of using an outfitter was not having to worry about who would have the honor of carrying this precious cargo. That was especially important to those of us in canoes, as we are the usual nominees, at least in the eyes of the haughty kayakers.

We were headed downstream by around 9:30 in the morning. Our plan was to arrive at La Linda by noon and have lunch there while we waited for the shuttle to arrive.

Sandra and her over-sized load leading the pack. One of the first signs of "civilization" we had seen in two full days were these remains of an abandoned mining operation, including a cable spanning the river with this bucket resting on the Mexican side.

Three kayakers drafting a cliff face.

These tumbleweeds showed how high the water level had been a few weeks earlier.

Zoltan shows off his bent-shaft paddle.

With the sound of rapids ahead, Susan attaches her spray skirt.

I think Zoltan was trying to raise the river level before running the Pillow Rock rapid.

This long ridge accompanied us almost all of the way to La Linda.









Mike enjoying the scenery.

We crossed under the now-closed bridge at La Linda and arrived at the takeout safe and (mostly) sound.

While our guides prepared another nice lunch, we enjoyed a few cold ones and posed for this group photo sans Mike, who was behind the lens.

River Report: The water level was just about right for an easy paddling trip. The river moved along pretty well, and the few rapids were easily navigated. On only a few occasions was it necessary to get out of the canoe and drag it for a few yards to deeper water. Based on the USGS gauge at Boquillas campground, the river was running at about 265 cfs when we launched late Friday morning. It declined steadily over the next two days, and the rate was about 235 cfs at Boquillas when we reached La Linda. Just three days before we put in at Rio Grande Village, the river had peaked at 860 cfs. A week before that, it was at least twice that. There had been some substantial releases from the Luis Leon Reservoir on the Rio Conchos in Mexico.

The shuttle returned us to Terlingua. Except for Cynthia, Susan, and Sandra, who departed from La Linda in Cynthia's vehicle, which had been driven along with the shuttle bus to La Linda, and headed straight back to San Antonio and Austin. From Terlingua, Eddie and Joline departed for San Antonio in his truck. Unlike the others, Mike, Zoltan, and I were determined to spend another night in Big Bend. We had reservations for a motel room at the Chisos Mountains Lodge in the Chisos Basin.

The three of us drove in Mike's truck, towing my trailer loaded with two canoes and three kayaks. Why so many boats? Joline had brought two kayaks, a smaller one in case we ended up paddling through Santa Elena Canyon as originally planned, and the longer one actually used for our Boquillas Canyon trip. And we were also carrying my Dagger Delta kayak, which Sandra had borrowed for the trip.

The photo above is of Casa Grande viewed from the west through The Window, taken at about 5:30 p.m. from Highway 118/385 as we drove from Terlingua towards Basin Junction.

We reached the Basin right at sunset, around 6:00 p.m. We pulled over for a few minutes to look up at Casa Grande (photo to right) and then, just a minute later, admired the colorful sunset as viewed down through The Window.

After checking in at the Lodge, we drew straws to see who would get to go first for what we had been looking forward to all day - a warm shower. Although I went last, there was still plenty of hot water. After finishing our last beers, we enjoyed a nice dinner at the Lodge Restaurant. Then it was off to sleep. I volunteered for the roll-away bed, which was a mistake, as the floor would have been better. Although I was serenaded by Zoltan's wall-shaking bass and Mike's vibrant and equally loud baritone, the snoring in stereo did not prevent me from getting a good night's sleep. I must have been really tired.

Note: For another fifteen photos of Day 3, click on this link to my Flickr page, then select "Slideshow."

Rio Grande - Day 2 - Later

Note: Left click on any photo to enlarge.

From Rabbit Ears, we continued on downstream for a little over two hours. Along the way, we exited Boquillas Canyon. Here is my last photo in the canyon.

We arrived at our campsite, this time on the Mexican side of the river, around 4:00. The river distance covered by us on this day was about 11 miles, leaving us with only about 8 miles to paddle on Sunday to the takeout at La Linda.

Susan and I took a short hike up above the river before dinner. This photo shows a mountain which had been part of the scenery ever since we left the canyon. Susan claimed that it looked like an elephant's head, with the small gap at the top defining the space between its ears. I guess you had to be there.

I'm not sure, but the sunlit gap in the mountains may well be the exit from Boquillas Canyon we had passed through earlier.

I'll refrain from any comparisons.

Joline, Zoltan, Eddie, Cynthia, Sandra, Susan, and Mike, a/k/a The Magnificent Seven, enjoy our dinner of shrimp fettucini alfredo. We were really roughing it.

The sun set behind the Sierra del Carmen.

Note: For seven additional photos of Saturday afternoon, click here and then select "Slideshow."

Rio Grande - Day 2 - Rabbit Ears

We beached our boats on the Mexican bank at around 11:00, across the river from the distinctive rock formation that gives this post its title. The Mexican side featured a broad, flat area, perfect for a lunch stop. But before eating, we had some exploring to do.

Since it would be impolite, we won't mention how the group left me behind while I retrieved my camera from the canoe, or how Eddie (who decided to stay with the boats) pointed me in the wrong direction as I hurried after them. Suffice it to say that my scramble up a steep hill, and then back down when I finally spotted the correct path, featured some close encounters with cacti and other sharply pointed flora which didn't seem to share my difficulties with the loose footing and dislodged rocks. Once safely down, I snapped this photo of the river and, in the background, Zoltan's canoe tethered to our trusty Dagger Dimension.

At least Joline waited for me at the entrance to the narrow side canyon into which the others had disappeared. She helped boost me up the narrow funnel-like opening in the rocks which led up into the canyon proper. The rock surface had been made smooth and slick over the ages by water racing through the canyon to join the Rio Grande. Joline had hiked up this canyon on a previous trip, and decided to head back down to the boats so that she and Eddie could trade tall tales about river trips and dance steps.

The view looking out of the canyon entrance back towards the Rio Grande and the sunlit cliffs on the U. S. side of the river.

I finally caught up with the rest of the group as they were working their way up some boulders blocking the stream bed. Mike was able to negotiate the obstruction thanks to much "helpful" advice from Susan. Sandra posed for a shot in one of the more open areas of the narrow canyon.

Cynthia tries unsuccessfully to keep her distance from Zoltan and Mike.










The paddlers climb another obstruction.

A female Monarch butterfly was kind enough to pose for a picture.

The walls of the canyon rose up steeply on each side.

Deep shadows alternated with intense sunlight.

After about 45 minutes of hiking into the canyon, Prester signaled that it was time to turn around and head back down to the river for lunch. It would have been nice to continue up the narrow, dry stream bed to see if and how it climbs up to the mesas it drains. Maybe next time.

Mike showing off his battle scars from the rocky climb and descent.

The setting really lent itself to vertical shots.

Cynthia and Mike cautiously descended the rocks where I had caught up with the group on the way up into the canyon.

Sandra made a leap of faith. Then Mike got to instruct Susan - a real role reversal - as Yvette kept a careful eye on her charges.

Susan seemed to enjoy the spectacle. Mike held the way open for the group, but Sandra apparently was not overly impressed.

It took us about thirty minutes from our turnaround point back to the canyon entrance (or exit).

One last look back into the canyon, and a shot of me at the entrance.

Looking back towards the canyon entrance.

The view back upstream from our lunch spot.

Yvette and Prester clean up the "kitchen" after another great meal, while others take photos or wander around aimlessly.

Joline and Sandra led the way as we got back onto the river.

Rabbit Ears towered silently over us as we paddled past. How many visitors had these rocks watched glide by in the past?

Note: For an additional 49 photos of our stop at Rabbit Ears, click on this link to my Flickr page.

Rio Grande - Day 2 - Morning

The sun started to light up the mountain to the west of our campsite a little before 7:00 a.m. on Saturday. With a fairly early departure planned for our second day on the river, we crawled out of our sleeping bags just a few minutes later.







Yvette and Prester quickly had the coffee brewing and started preparing breakfast. We were really roughing it.

Yvette and Joline were remarkably cheerful for that early in the morning.

Zoltan told tall tales of earlier river adventures, ...













... much to the delight of Sandra (or is that a ghostly apparition?) and Eddie.

Both the morning moon and Joline's toenails were dazzling.

Meanwhile, Susan and Mike searched the morning sky for any signs of UFO's.
















Zoltan made a quick run to the local convenience store for some breakfast beers.





Joline, Zoltan, and Eddie start repacking their boats. We were headed down the river again by shortly after 9:00.

Zoltan and Mike displaying their expert paddling techniques.

Yvette keeping track of her charges.

Cynthia, Sandra, and Zoltan enjoying another day of perfect weather and spectacular scenery.























Yvette led us into the shadows, ...














... as the moon kept an eye on the paddlers.

More shadows and bright light as Yvette leads the way past a stand of Rio Grande reeds.

Zoltan and his well-rigged canoe.



We paddled for only about two hours that morning. Our destination, Rabbit Ears, was just around a few more bends as Zoltan took the lead.














If you haven't already seen enough, click here to see an additional 42 photos of our Saturday morning.

Rio Grande - Day 1 - Into Boquillas Canyon

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With a full day's activities ahead of us, we awoke quite early on Friday morning. Most of the group were driving off to breakfast and showers by 6:45. I wasn't invited, so I stayed in my sleeping bag for a few extra minutes of comfort. I think my reputation for timeliness had the others deciding it would be better if I skipped breakfast and started organizing and packing my gear. For once, they were right.

Based on the outfitter's reading of the Rio Grande water level and flow at the Presidio bridge, a decision had been made to switch our trip from Santa Elena Canyon to Boquillas Canyon further down the river. The water level was hovering around the maximum advisable for passage in an open canoe or kayak through Rockslide Rapid, located a short distance inside Santa Elena. And with the recent variability in the discharge from Luis Leon Reservoir on the Rio Conchos, which flows into the Rio Grande at Presidio, the flow through Santa Elena Canyon was just too unpredictable, especially since we would be working off of a measurement taken three days prior to our entrance into the canyon. So we loaded our boats and gear onto the outfitter's trailer and climbed into the van which would transport us to the put-in at Rio Grande Village, located at the opposite end of Big Bend National Park.

We actually pulled away from the outfitter's office a few minutes before the scheduled departure time of 9:00. We stopped at the park headquarters and visitor center at Panther Junction to purchase the required river permit ($10).






Mike picked up the permit and information from a ranger while the rest of us used the facilities and perused the gift shop.





We arrived at the launch site a little after 10:00 and started unloading the boats and our mountains of gear.

I guess it's time to introduce our band of merry (and sometimes grumpy) adventurers. We were eight strong ... well, maybe two or three strong and the rest not so much. Chief Mike had traveled the farthest, having driven down from Dallas to join us in San Antonio. Zoltan the Magnificent (see, I didn't even mention his Hungarian heritage, since he's tired of hearing about it) came over from Houston. Magic Fingers Cynthia brought her well-received massaging skills from Austin. The rest of us hailed from San Antonio: Usually-the-Dear-Leader Joline, Mother-to-All Susan, Real Photographer Sandra, Eddie the Otter, and Stuck-in-the-Bow Henry, your humble blogger. We were joined by Guide Yvette and Guide-in-Training Prester. All in all, a great group for a river trip.

Eddie and Susan help Sandra launch her kayak, while Mike practices his leadership skills.

The scenery was quite nice even before we reached the canyon entrance.

Sandra really piled the gear onto the Dagger Delta.





As we approached the Mexican town of Boquillas del Carmen (above), two boys practiced their salesmanship skills, but to no avail. I guess no one wanted a wire scorpion or wooden walking stick.








Eddie's Otter, the smallest boat in our band, had its stern deck barely out of the water.


We were serenaded by Victor Valdez at the entrance to the canyon. You can spot him and some other guys up on the rocks on the Mexican side of the river in the center of the photo. I didn't realize how famous Victor is until I returned home. He is featured in this All Things Considered episode on npr, which describes the effect of a ridiculous Homeland Security policy on the little town of Boquillas. The "Rio Grande Balladeer" is featured again in this second All Things Considered segment.

To hear more of Victor's voice, click on this YouTube clip and listen to his song reverberate through the canyon. And here's another clip that's perhaps even better.



Boats approach the final turn into Boquillas Canyon. Note the diagonal fault line running down the face of the mountain in the background.





















We pulled over to the Mexican side of the river for lunch close to the base of the mountain with the fault line.













Prester and Yvette started setting up for lunch.

















In the sandy bank were footprints of a raccoon and a heron.

Mike is seen giving Zoltan a lesson in geology as he points to the fault.

Looks like Susan and Cynthia already have full plates as Mike, Sandra, Joline, Zoltan and Eddie fight over the leftovers. Yvette tries to maintain order at the table as Prester scares the photographer.

The delicious lunch eaten, Zoltan and the boats are ready to get back on the river.






The scenery became even more spectacular as we headed deeper into the canyon.




A Great Blue Heron, pushed down the river by the intruders, turns and heads back upstream to reclaim its territory.

After entering the canyon, we never saw another person.

The contrast between the sunlit cliff faces and the dark shadows was striking. It also made photography difficult.







The river divides the Sierra del Carmen on the Mexican side from the Dead Horse Mountains on the U. S. side.





Two burros watched from high up on the Mexican side as we paddled past.

















Just how high up is shown in this photo. Can you spot the donkeys, or at least the white one?







Every bend in the river seemed to offer another view that demanded to be recorded.













Sandra floats by a debris pile, and Prester seems to be enjoying the trip as much as the paying customers.







Susan leads the flotilla around a bend.






Another Great Blue Heron, pushed as far down river as it was willing to go, perched on a rock and waited for us to pass before heading back up the river.







Joline shades her face from the bright sun.













Two horses on the Mexican bank.








Three donkeys responded to Mike's mating call by looking our way, but kept their distance high up on the Mexican side of the river.

Just some more impressive scenery.

Our campsite was on the U. S. bank where the park's Marufo Vega Trail descends to the river. After setting up camp, Zoltan and Mike enjoyed some cold cervezas.

Cynthia snapped a photo of me at my almost-on-the-river campsite.

Cynthia starring in On the Waterfront.





As dinner was being expertly prepared by our guides, I served the frozen margaritas which I had carried from home. The freezer bags, supplemented by the small chunk of dry ice purchased in Del Rio, had done their job. I think Yvette was surprised by the opportunity to enjoy a frozen margarita, with salt, on the river. And we were all impressed with the dinner, which featured filet mignon grilled to perfection by Prester and wonderful mashed potatoes. Cheesecake for dessert topped off the meal.

After paddling 14 miles that day in a loaded boat that sometimes seemed to have a mind of its own, I was ready to relax and rest my sore muscles. Shoulder massages by Cynthia and Susan were welcomed by all, much more so than the jokes Mike and I told. With sunset at 6:00, most of us were in our sleeping bags by 8:00. With my tent set up at a lower level and closer to the river than the others, I was largely shielded from the snorers' symphony, and quickly fell asleep.

Shortly after midnight, I was awakened by a loud, strange noise very close to our camp. It was the braying of an angry donkey! The burro was apparently following its normal route down to the river when it came around a bend to find Mike asleep in the middle of the path. After loudly complaining for about fifteen seconds, the donkey realized that it had met its match and retreated back the way it had come. Perhaps it had heard about the unusual mating call earlier in the day from its cousins on the Mexican side.

After this brief interruption, I quickly went back to sleep. I did hear another round of braying later, but it seemed to be from further away. I never heard the javelinas which passed within a few feet of my tent, as evidenced by the fresh hoofprints found in the morning. Pawprints showed that our camp had also been visited by coyotes and a good-sized cat, probably a bobcat. It was obvious that we were the visitors in this place.

Note: To view an additional 56 photos of our first day on the river, click this link to my Flickr page, then click on "Slideshow."

Rio Grande - Prologue

After weeks of planning by Mike, we were finally on our way to Big Bend and the Rio Grande. And we only missed our targeted departure time from my house by an hour and a half! We did lose some more time on our way out of San Antonio, as we had to make two filling station stops (Stop 1 and Stop 2) before finding an air pump capable of properly inflating the tires on the two boat trailers.

In this photo by Cynthia, Mike supervises the hitching of my boat trailer to his truck.

Our target was Terlingua and, hopefully, Santa Elena Canyon. Seven paddlers were distributed between Mike's truck, pulling my trailer loaded with two canoes and three kayaks, and Cynthia's SUV, which was towing her small trailer with two kayaks. This two-vehicle caravan would travel the scenic Hwy. 90 route to Big Bend. Eddie had decided the night before to drive solo via Interstate 10 and meet us at Big Bend River Tours' office in Terlingua, where we would camp for the night.

Joline was not about to let our late start deter us from stopping at Haby's Alsatian Bakery (Stop 3) in Castroville. After filling up on pastries, we proceeded down the road for all of another mile before stopping again, this time at Dziuks Meat Market (Stop 4). The photo shows Joline ordering various types of jerky while Cynthia ponders her own selection of dried animal products.

Note: Left click on any photo to enlarge.

Zoltan and Cynthia outside Dzuik's.

Stop 5 was the HEB in Del Rio, where we filled up with gas and supplies and used the facilities. We won't count the two stops on the side of the road, caused by the vehicles losing track of each other on the way out of Del Rio, ...

... the stop for road repairs west of Del Rio, nor the stops at the La Migra checkpoints.










The rest area next to the High Bridge over the Pecos River (Stop 6) provided us with some great scenery and photo opportunities. It really is a must stop for anyone traveling along Highway 90. At this point, both the Rio Grande and the Pecos River form the upper reaches of Lake Amistad.

Shown above is the Pecos River, looking upstream (if that is the proper terminology for a river drowned by lake waters) towards the Hwy. 90 bridge. The view downstream, including the confluence of the Pecos with the Rio Grande in the background, is shown below.

Cynthia's photo of me on the wrong side of the railing.

Zoltan's halo is revealed by the special setting on my camera. I promised not to spill the secret of his saintly identity. The camera also showed Susan to be a mere mortal.

Joline and Mike got into a pointing contest, while Cynthia and Susan pretended to be interested.

Zoltan couldn't resist taking a photo of the four roadside beauties who accosted us at the rest area. They had apparently slipped across the border undetected. They seemed harmless enough, so we offered them a ride - a decision that would come back to haunt us.

We only made it about another 16 miles before Highway 90 crossed over Eagle Nest Canyon (to see the origin of its name, see this article from Handbook of Texas Online). At Susan's insistence, we pulled over after crossing the bridge and walked back to view the canyon (Stop 7), pictured above. Just south of the bridge, and across the gorge from us, were the cliffs above Bonfire Shelter, described in the Handbook as "the oldest mass bison-kill site in the New World." There are three layers of bone deposits from large game animals at the base of the cliff, the oldest dating back to as much as 14,000 years ago. The middle layer consists of skeletal remains of a now extinct bison which was about a third larger than current bison, and herds of which were stampeded over the cliff by Paleo-Indians about 10,000 years ago. For more information about this interesting site, click on this link to another article from the Handbook. And for something more graphic, see this artist's rendition of a bison jump, as this hunting technique is named.

Cynthia's group photo of us at Eagle Nest Canyon, with the cliffs above
the Bonfire Shelter in the background.

We continued down the highway for all of an hour before our next stop, this time for food and facilities at the Town & Country Food Store in Sanderson (Stop 8). Although chicken gizzards are supposedly what make this store famous, I concluded that rude service is its true specialty. With three cash registers watched over by three employees, two of the three counters were marked with crude cardboard "closed" signs. While two "workers" stood by their idle machines, customers were forced to wait in a long line in front of the third register. And they were out of gizzards. Well, that was OK with me, as I settled for a frozen slush drink.

Another hour west on Hwy. 90 brought us to Marathon, where we would finally leave our old friend and turn south onto Hwy. 385 towards Big Bend National Park. But before making the turn, as you might have guessed, we first had to stop at a convenience store (Stop 9) for gasoline and yet another bathroom break. Well, actually, we first made the turn and traveled a half mile before turning around and heading back to the store. By the way, don't buy gas in Marathon if you can help it. The gas prices there are much higher than any others we saw on our journey.

This quaint gallery was across the highway from the store.

The landscape turned increasingly rugged as we traveled towards and into the park, and darkness descended upon us as the sun set behind the mountains to the west. At Panther Junction, the location of the park headquarters, we turned west and eventually exited the park. About two and a half hours after our gas stop in Marathon, we drove through Study Butte and into Terlingua. A left at the intersection and then, just a couple hundred yards later, a right into Big Bend River Tours. Despite our late start and all of the wonderful stops, we had made it!

With only four hours of sleep the night before and none on the road, I was ready for bed. While the others went out for dinner in Terlingua, I laid out my ground sheet, pad, and sleeping bag. Although the Milky Way was spectacular, some shooting stars added to the show, the occasional braying of a donkey, barking of dogs, and yelping of coyotes were not what I was used to, and the temperature was descending towards frigid, I was soon asleep and dreaming about unknown canyons and rapids.

The gentle roar of the unseen rapids ahead suddenly increased in intensity. Before we were ready, we were being swept into the turbulent water and straight towards a massive boulder. I shouted out instructions to my paddling partner in the stern of the canoe, but to no avail. It looked like there was no escape, and now the noise of the water smashing into unseen obstructions was unbearable ... Suddenly I was awake! And then the snoring of my companions receded back to its normal level and gentle rhythms. I drifted back to sleep ... still looking forward to the adventure ahead.

Note: To view an additional 13 photos of our journey from San Antonio to Terlingua, click this link to my Flickr page, then click on "Slideshow."