Half-way to the Moon... from Sept. 2002

Why did I fly to Houston to turn around, get in a car, and drive to the farthest and most desolate reaches of Texas?
Well, for the sushi, of course.
On Thursday afternoon I left the office with my backpack packed and God knows how many other bags of things. I remembered, mercifully, that I could not fly with the white gas my backpacking stove uses and had delegated that item to Brad.
All this started almost a year ago, when Brad and I kept mentioning places in Texas we hadn’t been, hadn’t been in a while or hadn’t even heard of, for that matter. I had just seen a picture of the fall colors in McKittridge Canyon in Sunset Magazine… a plan was made. When the temperatures had subsided and the leaves begun to turn – we would go.
McKittridge Canyon is part of Guadalupe Mountain National Park. The peak itself is 8,700 feet – give or take. The park is closer to Carlsbad New Mexico than anyplace you’ve ever heard of in Texas. In fact, we went to see the caverns. And had dinner in Carlsbad. Cookies and coffee can only sustain you for so long.
Anyway, when I arrived in Houston that Thursday, Brad told me that our traveling companions – Carla and Dave – had to work late.
So we made a quick trip to academy and then decided we’d have dinner while we were waiting. A light dinner turned out to be sushi. At a very nice place near the University (Rice). And it was very good sushi. Carla and Dave recommended it. I got the feeling I was really going to like them.
Carla and Dave work together. They race together. And they sleep together. Brad has been doing adventure races with them for a while now – I guess about a year. They are 8-10 years younger than we are, in better shape than I am and looking out on extremely successful and bight futures. It was a good and cohesive group.
After sushi we drove to West Houston, threw everything including ourselves into Dave’s Explorer and got on the road. We stopped at Jason’s Deli so they could eat… and then we were on our way again.Around midnight we found a hotel and stopped for the night. The next day started slowly and we ate, shopped for groceries, drove and drove and drove.
There is nothing in Salt Flat, Texas but salt. And an abandoned hotel.
You see when we made it through what few and desolate towns there are along Interstate 10, we eventually arrived in Van Horn and had to turn north. The official weather report for the Park is taken in someplace called Salt Flat. But it doesn’t exist. It’s just miles and miles of flat West Texas desert interrupted by fields of salt – lying on the surface. Nothing grows there. It is the farthest corner of Texas. The middle of nowhere.
At the park we got a campsite, set up tents – matching blue and yellow North Face backpacking tents, to be exact, and I began making Fajita dinner.
The sun set, and rose again the next morning, to stillness you can scarcely imagine. There were thousands of acres of wispy clouds and naked air, painted yellow and orange and red as the light faded and the stillness entered our souls.
The morning was gorgeous, and the coffee was hot. We took our time, and made our plans – hitting the trailhead at just around 10 a.m. It was 4 miles one way, with 3500 feet of elevation gain. We all climbed pretty fast. Stopping to take pictures and be amazed at the expanding view below us. At the top, it was chilly and we didn’t stay long. We had planned to get back down, grab our stuff and hike out to the campsite at the end of the McKittridge trail to sleep there that night.
Somehow, though, we got to the bottom and didn’t want to rush. Instead, we got in the car and drove to Carlsbad, which I had never seen. All the guided caving tours are booked years in advance, but the big cavern was still excellent and we stayed long enough to watch the bats.
It turns out that I LOVE BATS. They are extraordinarily cute and fascinating creatures - creatures I knew squat about. A very large colony lives in the Carlsbad Caverns and they fly at dusk. We listened to the interpretive staff and waited. The bats flew. And flew and flew. And then we decided to go ahead and head in for dinner. Did you know that 25 percent of the world’s mammals are bats?
We got recommendations earlier in the day from the Mayor of Carlsbad and his entourage – who were also climbing Guadalupe Peak, in honor of the 30th anniversary of the opening of the park. That weekend.
Steaks were had all around. With salads and potatoes and Shiner Bock to wash it down.
Full and tired, we made it back to the tent site where everything was in its place and slept well – even better than the night before (although it was colder). The day had been a success.
On Sunday we hiked the 10 miles into McKittridge. We took stuff with us to cook and when we had reached the summit of the pass we stopped and made lunch. We did do some minor climbing and scrambling along the way. We also stopped at the old hunter’s cabin in the famous photo. It’s boarded up and has wire over the old, pane-less windows, but the bats can find their way in. And we watched up close as they cuddled with each other, trying to stay warm, scratching their tiny heads and looking absolutely adorable.
On the hike out, we all craved showers. The running water in McKittridge is scarce, so when we got to the car we used the wash sink to sponge bathe… rinse our heads, feet and hands.
Then, back on the road.
We made it to Van Horn in time for dinner at a place called Chuy’s. It’s on John Madden’s HAUL OF FAME. The dinner was good. And in another five or so hours a hotel room was in order again.
Breakfast on Monday was huge. And cheap. And then we were off to Houston. We arrived in the middle of the afternoon and went out separate ways… to showers, washing machines, clean clothes, shopping, and more sushi. We agreed to meet at a new sushi restaurant for dinner. Much raw fish, seaweed and plum wine was consumed. We said good bye and I returned to Dallas the next day.
The weeks that followed were hectic and filled with life-changing events for me. Across the rest of the state, the leaves have only now come completely off the trees.
Things are not still. The cycle of life continues.
But there are places – perhaps you haven’t heard of them yet – where you can get away, strip down to the essential you, breathe deeply and not answer your phone. I need to go back.
And come to think of it, I haven’t had sushi since then either.
I guess I better head to Houston. And whatever adventure awaits me next.