that okie bird

As my birthday approached, I had exactly one thought for just what I wanted to do to celebrate. I wanted to get in my truck, drive to a remote national park and backpack to a destination deep in the wilderness. My birthday hasn’t really been my favorite day, during my 20’s and now especially in my 30’s. It’s just another day on the calendar sure, but it’s difficult not to compare milestones and intentions in where I thought I would be at this age and where I am in reality.

Birthday Plans

Just days before my birthday, my friend and hiking partner showed up at my house, and with very minimal time spent on decision making, packed my Osprey Xena 70 liter hiking bag and whisked me away driving southwest. Texas seemed like a perfect destination for a winter hike, and we’d simply figure out the logistics on the way.

Guadalupe Mountains National Park covers over 86,000 acres in west Texas, a short distance south of the New Mexico state line. Authorized in 1966 by an act of congress and formally established in 1972, this park contains the highest point in Texas within its borders – Guadalupe Peak reaching 8,751 feet. The mountains are surrounded by the Chihuahuan Desert resulting in a beautiful arid wilderness landscape.

Southwestern Texas

Arriving at the park, I was reminded some of Big Bend National Park, which lies less than 300 miles to the south. Endless ocotillo and prickly pear cactus, huge agave and yuccas, and just miles of desert brush and grasses line the landscape. I had visited Big Bend just the previous month, and it had been on my mind frequently. I love hiking year round, and Texas proves to be a perfect winter hiking destination. The desert certainly gets cold at night, but in comparison to parks in the north it feels much less freezing.

We parked at the Pine Springs Visitor Center, where social distancing was in full effect – allowing only one or two families in the building at a time. After obtaining a backcountry camping permit from the ranger, we returned to the truck to unpack and repack our bags to ensure we had everything needed. The ranger mentioned more than once about the lack of water in the backcountry, and to pack at least one gallon per person per day. We took this to heart, packing just that and our bags felt impossibly heavy.

But full of excitement and not a small amount of nervousness as our backpacking trips have amounted to less than 10 total at this point, we pulled on our heavy bags and made our way to the trailhead.

Hiking the Guadalupe Peak Trail

I’m not going to lie, this hike was incredibly strenuous. It is by far the most challenging hike I’ve embarked on so far. Thousands of feet climb in altitude in just a few miles with a 32 pound backpack is no joke. Switchbacks lead you up the mountain at a gentle – yet constant – elevation. The park and the trail was quite busy this day, the sun shone brightly and the temperature reached only 52 for a high.

In full, the three mile hike up the mountain took us four hours before arriving at our campsite for the night. We were the first ones to reach the Guadalupe Peak Wilderness Campground, which includes five designated campsites. Although exhausted, we walked to the campsite furthest from the trail. The view from the campsite over 3,000 feet above the rest of Texas was worth every grueling minute of the hike.

The Wilderness Campground

We dropped our bags, did a little dance to celebrate both arriving at our destination and no longer having to carry said bags on our backs, and quickly began setting up camp. Nearly three hours remained until sunset, leaving a great amount of time to set up everything, eat, do all camp chores and relax while watching the sunset. In reality, we set up camp, ate, laid on our mats to rest our eyes resulting in us falling asleep and missing the full sunset. But no matter, the moon rising over the Texas landscape was just as gorgeous and surreal as any sunset. And getting to sleep inside the boundaries of Guadalupe Mountains National Park was an incredible experience.

A Chilly Night in Guadalupe Mountains National Park

That night the temperature dipped down to about 30 degrees, and the wind raged seemingly without a pause. I’m an insomniac on a normal day, so sleeping outside with endless unknowns and noises tends to keep me up most of the night as it did this night. But happily, I stayed warm the whole night through, and drifted off shortly before sunrise.

I awoke on the morning of my birthday to a bright quiet day. B surprised me with a birthday gift of a whittling knife and book, which incredibly thoughtful of itself, was also surprising and thoughtful that he would carry the extra weight with him up the mountain to make sure I would awaken to a birthday gift.

Morning Essentials for Camping

The morning air was crisp and cool, and after a quick breakfast and coffee we packed up camp and headed back to the trail. We chose to leave our heavy bags at the start of the spur to the campsites, and hike to Guadalupe Peak carrying only a couple bottles of water and snacks. At this point we met a fellow hiker who had already hiked the mile to the summit and back that morning, and he was making his way back to his campsite where he had opted to leave his bag. Near the beginning of our brief conversation, he mentioned it was his birthday and he was happy to do something special to celebrate. We air high-fived (still in full blown pandemic here) our mutual birthday and wished each other luck on the rest of our adventures.

After a great hike to the summit, the highest point in Texas, we collected our bags once more and began the hike back to the car. As hard as the incline going up was, I struggled just as much if not slightly more, with the decline. After about a mile, the muscles in my tired legs shook almost constantly. They were overworked, and my body was revolting against my lack of sleep. B had almost no such issues, if he had been alone he probably would’ve made it back to the truck in an hour. But he waited with me during my frequent stops I took in order to rest my legs.

Back to Home Base

When we finally did spot the truck, the rest of the trail flew by and before we knew it we were able to drop our bags and sit in the comfortable seats. I believe I just about shouted in relief, and didn’t put on that heavy bag again for some time.

Guadalupe Mountains National Park is an absolutely gorgeous and unique place, and worth the trip. I can imagine it gets quite busy during the spring and the fall, and we found the winter to be a perfect time for a visit.

I drove alone, heading south on highways 385 with more than 70 miles to go before reaching my destination. Passing by seemingly barren farmlands and derelict buildings driving 75 miles an hour, I wondered what I was doing. What I was doing in southwest Texas all alone two days before my 13th wedding anniversary? Life felt so impossible; I couldn’t do this. How can I be single and independent now after 17 years of being a we? I drove through the entrance station of the country’s 27^th national park feeling lost and unsure, but I left two days later an altogether different person.

Where Desert Meets Mountains.

Big Bend National Park was established in 1944, encompassing over 800,000 acres of land along the Texas/Mexico border featuring the mingling of the Chihuahuan desert and Chisos Mountains. And it is a stellar place to feel alone when you are in search of quiet and solitude.

Driving along the two-lane highway into the park, a deafening avalanche of thoughts crowded my brain. Will I encounter a bear or mountain lion? What happens if an unsavory stranger crosses my path? Will my truck’s tires behave themselves and not inexplicably deflate while I’m in the middle of nowhere proving me to be the hopeless female I fear is my fate? As soon as I laid eyes on the grand “Big Bend National Park” sign welcoming me into the park’s domain, my thoughts quieted. My brain felt less crowded, and my anxiety began to lift.

The Wonder of National Parks.

I was once again within the boundary of my favorite destination to travel to – a national park. Full of beauty and history, wonders and mysteries, national parks are places of endless discovery. Out of the more than 400 national park units, Big Bend seemed like the perfect place to visit at this time in my life. It is one that I had not visited and yet was within a day’s drive, it is one of the “big 62”, and I’ve been dreaming about visiting since first viewing Ansel Adams’ 1940’s photographs depicting the awe of Big Bend.

I reserved a backcountry campsite permit for two nights, two miles from the overnight parking lot for my first solo camping experience. Camping near-ish to other people while being a relatively short distance from my car felt like a safe choice. After all, I was doing something inherently crazy; backpacking alone in a desert climate, just miles from the Mexico border, with no one to rely on for support and companionship.

After stopping by the visitor’s center, I finally parked my Nissan Titan in the parking space it would occupy for the next two days. The weather was pretty perfect, full sunshine and in the low 50’s, minimum wind. I lowered my tailgate, hoisted my backpack, an Osprey Xena 70 liter, up and began making a quick lunch of dehydrated black bean chili on my camp stove. It was not yet one o’clock in the afternoon, and I had hours of daylight left and only two miles to hike. After lunch, I unpacked and repacked my bag ensuring all I needed to survive was snug within and I took a deep breath as I lifted all 35 pounds onto my back.

The Climb.

Those two seemingly short miles proved to be tough as shit. The park is several thousand feet higher than my lungs are accustomed to, and I struggled. But I arrived at my campsite two hours later with plenty of daylight left. The view was absolutely stunning. When a park ranger visited a short time later to verify my reservation and asked if I enjoyed my site, I told her “If there’s a better view from a campsite in this park, I couldn’t handle it.”

I was in fairly high spirits as I set up my new tent for only the second time ever, made my campsite comfortable and got everything ready to make dinner. After scarfing down my chana masala meal, I got ready for my wilderness bedtime as the sun began setting behind the trees. That’s when my leg lost an unexpected confrontation with a cactus (thankfully I thought to add tweezers to my first aid kit), and the temperature began to swiftly drop. And with the onset of cold, my anxiety crept back along with unwanted thoughts. Will I be warm enough in my new sleeping bag? Did I for sure stash all my food securely in the bear box? What do I do if I get hypothermia and no one knows where to find my frozen body?

The Most Bleak of Nights.

Reader, I will admit to you right now, the night of December 6^th was one of the most miserable nights I’ve had. I couldn’t stop shivering and shaking from the cold and my rampant anxiety exasperated my perceived situation, making it more unbearable. I knew a few facts, like my sleeping bag was rated for 9 degrees Fahrenheit and it was only supposed to get down to 30 degrees. And that I would survive better enclosed in my tent than trying to bail out and walk back to my truck in the dark while mountain lions might be active.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed to bail, and I couldn’t do this, and who was I kidding, I’m not strong or capable or adventuress at all. It was a bleak night.

Swirling Thoughts.

Throughout the sleepless night, I had plenty of time to think all the thoughts I’d been pushing away for the past several weeks. Thoughts about my failed marriage, and how to move on into singleness. About what the future may hold, and different paths that could be taken. Attempting to answer pressing questions like, do I move out of our house immediately or wait and save money first? How do I find a job during a worldwide pandemic? Who am I kidding, thinking I can start over with no support or help? Do I seriously have to move in to my mom’s house, even though I’m a grown ass woman? And wait, will she even have me?

The Morning Light.

But, I survived.

At first light, I crawled out of my sleeping bag and immediately headed back to the bear box to boil water for coffee and oatmeal. As I slowly warmed up with hot coffee and sunshine, I was so proud of myself for staying the full night and simultaneously feeling more lost than ever. The one consistency in my life is that I’ve always been a walking contradiction.

As soon as the sun rose high enough over the tree line to warm my freezing bones, I began to pack up my camp. I had reserved the site for two nights, but I couldn’t do the cold misery a second night in a row. I decided it would prove nothing, and I would be slightly warmer sleeping in my truck in the parking lot. My bag repacked, although not quite as efficiently, I descended 1,000 feet in elevation back to my truck.

Cell Phone Service.

With a mile behind me, my phone rang surprising me as I thought I had no signal, and I got to talk to my friend. He listened with patience as I lamented my failures, while he tried to convince me they were successes. The final mile went quickly and before I knew it, I dropped my third-grader sized backpack on the backseat and sighed heavily.

“I am not going back up the trail tonight. I’m going to sleep in my truck and leave the park tomorrow. I don’t know why I thought I could do this. Maybe I don’t even like camping… or backpacking… maybe not even hiking. I don’t know why I’m here; I’m so stupid to think I could be alone.” I rambled helplessly into the phone.

Warmth.

When he was finally able to get a word in edgewise, he talked me down and we spent the next couple of hours reminiscing over past adventures and dreaming about the endless possibilities of the future.

That night as I lay warm in my truck, I gazed out the window and for only the second time in my life, I saw the Milky Way.

Yes, this was worth it. I could do this. I will be okay.

Guadalupe Mountains National Park, Texas