Down With the Devil- Camp Night 6
After climbing down from Guadalupe Peak, I had little over an hour of light to find a camp site. So, I jumped in the car and hauled ass back into New Mexico.
As someone who grew up in Texas, I never really realized how much land out west is public. Texas entered the Union with about 95% of its land privately held, and so there is very little land open to just wander upon. New Mexico (and many other states) have vast tracts of public land divided between the state, National Forests, Wilderness Areas, and public land under the control of the Bureau of Land Management (BLM.) It was this BLM land I was after that night.
I drove several miles into the desert on a dirt road, and set my tent up in the dark.
Again, click on the photos for better views.
I set my backpacking stove up on the trunk of the car and made two huge portions of Tortellini with bacon, dressed with light olive oil and quickly ate them both. My hungry was trying to claw its way out of my stomach at this point, because there is no telling how many calories I had burned during the day.
After supper I sat outside and stargazed for awhile, but before long I found myself in the tent lying on my back sleeping between bouts of star gazing through the mesh.
It was not as cool out on the desert floor, about 45F, and I woke up sweating in my bag. I did not sleep as well as the night before, but I woke up rested a little before dawn. With the stove starting on boiling water, I broke down camp and walked around a bit. I found an unfinished arrowhead made out of limestone. I had never heard of a limestone arrowhead before.
With my all my camp put up except the stove, I had mashed potatoes with the last of the bacon from the night before for breakfast along with some peaches.
After cleaning up a bit more, I headed back to GUMO for a last hike before making the drive home. Besides, I couldn't come all this way to see the Guaddess without trying to see the Devil.
Back at the trailhead, and with nothing to prove this time, I packed much lighter. Two quarts of water, a light wind breaker (my perfect weather window was past, and the wind was blowing hard and cool) some GORP, the camera, and the ten esentials that one should nearly always carry.
GORP stands for "Good Ol' Raisians and Peanuts." Trail mix. It might sound cliche to take trail mix on a hike, but it is called trail mix for a reason. It is a light weight, high energy food that has a mix of simple carbs (for a quick energy boost) and complex carbs to keep one going for a long bit.
I like mine with a little chocolate.
The Ten Essentials is a list of items that every hiker/backpacker/douche who goes walking outside should carry that has been around forever. The basic version looks like this:
Ten Essentials
1. Map
2. Compass
3. Flashlight
4. Extra food/water
5. Extra clothing
6. shelter
7. First aid supplies
8. knife
9. Matches
10. Fire starting material
Now, not everyone carries the ten essentials everywhere, and that is okay, because the idea behind the ten essentials is to be prepared (and not like a boy scout) for what might happen. Shelter, might just mean a cheap plastic rain poncho, First aid supplies might just be a bit of moleskin for blisters. Toting around all this crap will not make you safe, but knowing why they are on the list might. Generally, I tend to have most of them on most of my walks.
Anyway, it was with this crap that I started up the short trail to see Devil's Hall.
My legs were still a bit tired from the day before, and as that this hike would be under five miles, I started out slowly, not caring when I got back to the trail head. There were also not nearly as many people on Devil's Hall trail, so it was nice to just hear silence.
The Devil's Hall trail is a narrow, rocky trail that eventually drops down into Pine Springs Canyon and follows up the wash. It is what I would consider a "real" trail. The type of trail that feeds my little boy sense of adventure and exploration; not the wide, open, piss poor trails that most of Texas' state parks have.
Before long, Rowdy the man was miles away; Rowdy the boy, grinning and huffing and puffing and crawling around and over large rocks. I put my trekking poles away and used my hands. Soon I came to the Hikers Staircase, a naturally formed, steep staircase that would be a waterfall if there was water. Which is exactly what it really was.
Devil's Hall is a narrow slot in the way that leads to a spring. The light was wrong to get a good photo, but I'm not sure I would have been able to capture it had I the power to move the sun at a word. Go see it.
I mentioned in my last post about using this trip to find that lonely state of mind I used to know seven years ago. That place is one I don't get to visit anymore. I'm rarely truly alone anymore, and I'm starting to forget how to exist alone for extended amounts of time. It is something one learns to do. And there is a line between that place and just being fucking miserable. I spent more than a while crossing back and forth over that border years ago, and while I never want to go back to the miserable part, I do miss the lonely state of mind. I was at my most creative during those times.
While I was still jumpy on the return from Devil's Hall, I knew I was starting to slip into that lonely state of mind once again with oddball thoughts that came to me. For example...
Devil's Hall and Guadalupe Peak trails follow the same contour for a while, with the Guadalupe Peak trail being a couple hundred feet higher off the desert floor. On my way back to the trailhead on this section I noticed a group of people from India resting on the Peak trail. I'd met them yesterday, and they were very nice, but I found myself really wishing I knew some insults in Hindi. I mean, how great would it be the first person in the Guadalupe Mountains to be attacked by non American Indians? In my head I could see them rushing down the hill to tar and feather me while spirits of Apache looked on with shaking heads.
Back at the trailhead, I finished two days of over 13 miles of hiking, and 3400 feet climbed. I jumped in the car (without stretching, which would prove to be a mistake) and flew to Carlsbad for Mexican food, and then four hours home.
The supposed last day of winter died that night.
As someone who grew up in Texas, I never really realized how much land out west is public. Texas entered the Union with about 95% of its land privately held, and so there is very little land open to just wander upon. New Mexico (and many other states) have vast tracts of public land divided between the state, National Forests, Wilderness Areas, and public land under the control of the Bureau of Land Management (BLM.) It was this BLM land I was after that night.
I drove several miles into the desert on a dirt road, and set my tent up in the dark.
Again, click on the photos for better views.
I set my backpacking stove up on the trunk of the car and made two huge portions of Tortellini with bacon, dressed with light olive oil and quickly ate them both. My hungry was trying to claw its way out of my stomach at this point, because there is no telling how many calories I had burned during the day.
After supper I sat outside and stargazed for awhile, but before long I found myself in the tent lying on my back sleeping between bouts of star gazing through the mesh.
It was not as cool out on the desert floor, about 45F, and I woke up sweating in my bag. I did not sleep as well as the night before, but I woke up rested a little before dawn. With the stove starting on boiling water, I broke down camp and walked around a bit. I found an unfinished arrowhead made out of limestone. I had never heard of a limestone arrowhead before.
With my all my camp put up except the stove, I had mashed potatoes with the last of the bacon from the night before for breakfast along with some peaches.
After cleaning up a bit more, I headed back to GUMO for a last hike before making the drive home. Besides, I couldn't come all this way to see the Guaddess without trying to see the Devil.
Back at the trailhead, and with nothing to prove this time, I packed much lighter. Two quarts of water, a light wind breaker (my perfect weather window was past, and the wind was blowing hard and cool) some GORP, the camera, and the ten esentials that one should nearly always carry.
GORP stands for "Good Ol' Raisians and Peanuts." Trail mix. It might sound cliche to take trail mix on a hike, but it is called trail mix for a reason. It is a light weight, high energy food that has a mix of simple carbs (for a quick energy boost) and complex carbs to keep one going for a long bit.
I like mine with a little chocolate.
The Ten Essentials is a list of items that every hiker/backpacker/douche who goes walking outside should carry that has been around forever. The basic version looks like this:
Ten Essentials
1. Map
2. Compass
3. Flashlight
4. Extra food/water
5. Extra clothing
6. shelter
7. First aid supplies
8. knife
9. Matches
10. Fire starting material
Now, not everyone carries the ten essentials everywhere, and that is okay, because the idea behind the ten essentials is to be prepared (and not like a boy scout) for what might happen. Shelter, might just mean a cheap plastic rain poncho, First aid supplies might just be a bit of moleskin for blisters. Toting around all this crap will not make you safe, but knowing why they are on the list might. Generally, I tend to have most of them on most of my walks.
Anyway, it was with this crap that I started up the short trail to see Devil's Hall.
My legs were still a bit tired from the day before, and as that this hike would be under five miles, I started out slowly, not caring when I got back to the trail head. There were also not nearly as many people on Devil's Hall trail, so it was nice to just hear silence.
The Devil's Hall trail is a narrow, rocky trail that eventually drops down into Pine Springs Canyon and follows up the wash. It is what I would consider a "real" trail. The type of trail that feeds my little boy sense of adventure and exploration; not the wide, open, piss poor trails that most of Texas' state parks have.
Before long, Rowdy the man was miles away; Rowdy the boy, grinning and huffing and puffing and crawling around and over large rocks. I put my trekking poles away and used my hands. Soon I came to the Hikers Staircase, a naturally formed, steep staircase that would be a waterfall if there was water. Which is exactly what it really was.
Devil's Hall is a narrow slot in the way that leads to a spring. The light was wrong to get a good photo, but I'm not sure I would have been able to capture it had I the power to move the sun at a word. Go see it.
I mentioned in my last post about using this trip to find that lonely state of mind I used to know seven years ago. That place is one I don't get to visit anymore. I'm rarely truly alone anymore, and I'm starting to forget how to exist alone for extended amounts of time. It is something one learns to do. And there is a line between that place and just being fucking miserable. I spent more than a while crossing back and forth over that border years ago, and while I never want to go back to the miserable part, I do miss the lonely state of mind. I was at my most creative during those times.
While I was still jumpy on the return from Devil's Hall, I knew I was starting to slip into that lonely state of mind once again with oddball thoughts that came to me. For example...
Devil's Hall and Guadalupe Peak trails follow the same contour for a while, with the Guadalupe Peak trail being a couple hundred feet higher off the desert floor. On my way back to the trailhead on this section I noticed a group of people from India resting on the Peak trail. I'd met them yesterday, and they were very nice, but I found myself really wishing I knew some insults in Hindi. I mean, how great would it be the first person in the Guadalupe Mountains to be attacked by non American Indians? In my head I could see them rushing down the hill to tar and feather me while spirits of Apache looked on with shaking heads.
Back at the trailhead, I finished two days of over 13 miles of hiking, and 3400 feet climbed. I jumped in the car (without stretching, which would prove to be a mistake) and flew to Carlsbad for Mexican food, and then four hours home.
The supposed last day of winter died that night.
Nice narrative Rowdy. The part about bumping into the Indians was probably due to lack of carbs after walking so long. You were on the verge of delusions or a vision quest!
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