Big Bend National Park (TX)

View from Casa Grande, campground is way down below.

By mid-January I’d gained 50 summits in my quest for Sixty, but with only two weeks to go, how was I ever going to manage ten more? I started scanning the map of the good ol’ U.S. of A. for sunny winter destinations (with affordable airfare) and my pointer finger soon landed on Big Bend National Park in west Texas. It should be sunny and 60s in January, I learned, and that was all I needed to know. On the one hand it seemed a bit frivolous to jet over to Texas for a few days of hiking. But on the other hand, I was on a mission and hadn’t been on such an adventure in a beauteous new place for way too long. Most of my vacation time seems generally consumed by domestic duties and the like, with a day or two of fun tossed in here and there for sanity’s sake. Kris was also traveling to Seattle for a 10-day winter break with family, so I figured I could tack on a couple of vacation days to a three-day M.L. King weekend and fly to San Antonio on January 16. So that’s what I did.

After a long drive west—and a near accidental detour into Mexico after missing a turn—I arrived at the Chisos Basin campground just after dark. For the next four days, it was total Blissville, with five new summits added to the count. I had to consult my rule book a few times to be sure a couple of them would qualify. But since I write the rules, I figured the chances were pretty good.

Casa Grande from Chisos Basin.

51. Casa Grande: I crawled out of the tent early dawn on January 17th for my first good look at the Chisos Mountains, having arrived under stars the night before. The mountains surround Chisos Basin like a giant caldron, and in fact, the place owes its existence to several large volcanic eruptions 30 to 60 million years ago, plus some artful erosion in the years since. Imposing Casa Grande rose above my tent and grew more impressive with the morning light. It is thought to be a remnant lava cap that flowed over more erodible ash and sandstone. At the time, I wasn’t even sure yet what mountain I was looking at, given the sparse research I’d done beforehand. But after a morning stroll to the ranger station up the hill and a look at the map, I learned its name—and also discovered that there was a steep, unofficial trail to the summit. After some book browsing and putzing around, I was finally on my way.

The climbers’ path leads west from a mile up the Lost Mine Trail. A jolly jaunt led along the easy ridge, then the grade steepened as I clambered up light brush, rocks and scree to the first false summit. The trail faded through a gentle saddle then reappeared for the climb past rock towers to the next false summit, where a natural arch added an extra flair. After slogging over the crest, I was a little surprised how distant the summit still appeared. I kept on, feeling a little lonelier as I climbed far above the surrounding desert.

Despite a perfect, 70-degree day, I saw no one else on the route. I began to wonder about the super-abundance of warning signs throughout the basin and at trailheads going on about the threat of mountain lion encounters, since they are frequently spotted in the Chisos. But they only hunt early and late in the day, right? Black bears too. I marched on. Another very steep and skinny scree slope finally brought me to the top where I wandered among two gentle high points to be sure I’d nabbed the correct one. The view was tremendous and I enjoyed a 2:30 lunch gazing down on my tent from my 7,325-foot perch. Not a bad way to get acquainted with a fabulous place that had somehow evaded my radar for so many years.

Miles (RT):  4.2 miles; elevation gain: 1,600 feet
Cumulative mileage and gain:  234.4 miles / 61,650 feet