Well that title should get everyone tuned in for today’s tale.
You know how you are really good at some things? Like breathing for instance, I am an excellent breather. I can do it and don’t even realize I’m doing it I’m so good at it. And you know how you are really not so good at some things? Like climbing a vertical trail I’m convinced I’m going to fall off the side of. I am not very good at that, anything like that is just not my thing.
When we arrived in Big Bend National Park the biggest attraction here is the hiking. Rob and I are new to the trail scene, learning as we go and we have enjoyed every hike we have been on. Each trail has it’s own unique characteristics and reasons for attraction. The Santa Elena Canyon Trail assured us “Fun for all ages.” The map said “easy” under it’s description as well as “This trail crosses Terlingua Creek (usually dry) and gradually climbs up to an overlook before dropping to the river bank. Trail has some steep steps and can be very hot midday.” The trail head starts just as any other and we wander back through each turn. It opens up to the Rio Grande and it is quite a sight to see, knowing Mexico is just beyond the river. We take pictures with the canyon walls as a breathtaking backdrop and off we go to join the trail. Only we couldn’t find the trail. We walked this way, we walked that way, nothing, other than the vertical trail leading straight to my own personal hell. Convinced I was hallucinating, I went back to the kiosk to record the map of where we lost this trail that is “Fun for all ages.” I joined back with my group to show them my findings. Right across the “usually dry” Terlingua Creek is the elusive trail we have been searching for. Terlingua Creek is not its usual dry self and brown, murky, rushing water is also something I am not very good at apparently. So this left the vertical trail we found earlier that people were scaling and quickly disappearing into.
Now when I get nervous I’m a sweater. And not the, glistening upper lip kinda sweater. It’s a full on faucet to on position until I get myself out of whatever ridiculous situation I’ve gotten myself into. Sounds super fun so far right? I march on toward the vertical trail with a swamp under each arm and a case of nauseating heartburn. I also get that when I’m nervous. Does anyone else’s body betray them like mine does? It can be such a dick sometimes.
Up and over the first 2 in our group go. Of course because they are 30 and 28 and are riding their bicycles across the planet and are in top physical condition. I’m next and Rob has disappeared. Now part of me was afraid he wasn’t there to push from behind while the Frencheese pulled from the front. And part of me was glad he wasn’t there to push from behind just in case things got a little squeaky back there.
I get into position and find the first foothold and up I go. One step at a time I engage my hands and knees as I reach for anything sticking out of the ground that may have a shred of ability to hold me on the side of this cliff. Funny how “Fun for all ages” actually translates into “scaling a sheer rock face.” Up and up I go, one trembling step at a time until I reach the first plateau and throw my arms up in victory. I quickly put them down 1. Because I smelled like every prepubescent teenager who has yet to discover deodorant (thank you anxiety) and 2. Because I was only 5 steps in to this “Fun for all ages.” Rob joined us after “trying to find an easier trail up for me.” I think it may have had more to do with bringing up my rear. Either way, I was happy to have him back. Up and over, around and through, we really had some great viewpoints.
Now as we all know, what goes up must come down. I was already starting to feel the faucet drip as we started to descend.
We came to the crossroads of water vs trail and this time Chloé and I opt for the water feature. The choice was made as I saw an 80 something crossing with a stick and nerves of steel. Off with the shoes and socks and around my neck they go. Because trying a pair of hiking shoes around your neck as you wade into thigh high water is a great idea for me. Nevertheless, onward we go. Sliding each foot across the bottom to find the next slippery pit of muddy threshold, I managed to reach a bit too far and find myself rapidly approaching split position, and I can’t do the splits. Well, not voluntarily at least. I activate my arms into full windmill rotation to try and salvage any hope of not falling when Chloé gives me a quick shove from behind to keep me upright. I was able to stay dry and the guys’ hopes of watching us pick ourselves up off the muddy bottoms were quickly dashed.
The Santa Elena Canyon Trail (of death) was truly a beautiful sight to see. I’m glad I pushed myself and got outside my comfort zone on the trail that is “Fun for all ages.” Big Bend National Park was the most amazing and unforgiving place I’ve experienced to date. Put it on your list of rugged and out of the way places to visit. Until next time Big Bend…
