Things Get Scary
We had a map with a trail we couldn't find and a GPS that showed us where we were and where we were going, but not how to get there! The options were to traverse overland in the rugged terrain or try to find the trail for an easier ride back, but which to choose?
We rode over the ridges and around them, up the washes and out, looking for the trail or a way to our rig. A straight-line course was impossible. The terrain is rocky and arid with dagger-leafed lechuagilla, spiney ocotillo, candelilla, and creosote brush. Cacti abound, including the ferocious "horse crippler."
Siroco forged on, over the rocks and through the brush collecting cactus spines and scrapes on his legs while the more cautious mule hesitated, backed up, and walked around the prickly obstacles. Rona kept asking, "Where is the road?"
Siroco was getting tired and stumbling. Rona was afraid he'd go down, but Rojo continued on, trotting to catch up from his dawdle. Trotting up one rocky ridge, his breastcollar broke, the saddle rotated, and I fell off into the brush - fortunately not onto a cactus or rattlesnake!
Rojo is accustomed to (and often responsible for) my involuntary dismounts. As always, he just stood there. I adjusted the saddle and we continued on our trek with Siroco soldiering on, continuing to lead our wanderings as it got even later.
A Welcome Sight
The sun had sunk behind the mountains to the west and the temperature in the high desert was beginning to drop when we finally saw the road in the distance. A ride down the final ridge and across the flats brought us to the much-sought-after Ross Maxwell Scenic Drive, but we were still three miles from the overlook and our rig. It was about to get dark, and javelina were now Rona's concern. Siroco is afraid of all barnyard animals, particularly pigs.
We reached our trailer at 6:45 p.m., just as daylight faded. It had been a 17-mile, seven-hour ride, but it seemed much longer.
Relieved, we untacked our tired, trusty mounts, offered them water, doctored Siroco's legs, and loaded the horses into the trailer with hay for the return to camp. After a well-deserved Corona with lime, we headed out.
We were neither eaten nor stranded in the desert that day, but our adventure could have easily ended badly. There are always lessons to be learned on the trail and we returned from the Mule Ears with our share.
We should've been better prepared for the wilderness with emergency supplies and gear, and more adept at translating map topography and GPS data to actual ground terrain.
The most important lesson was an appreciation for our well-conditioned, willing, courageous mounts. It was Siroco and Rojo who carried us through.
For more information on Big Bend National Park, call (432) 477-2251, or visit www.nps.gov/bibe.
