Guadalupe Peak-11/17/2005

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[Ed: Imported from Americas Roof ‘Summit Trip Reports’ forum]

[By: Matthew DiBiase on November 23 2005 at 3:25 PM]

[Link: http://www.network54.com/Forum/198362/message/1132777511/Guadalupe+Peak-11-17-2005]

GUADALUPE PEAK-TEXAS
NOVEMBER 17, 2005

“Once you are in Texas it seems to take forever to get out, and some people never make it….Texas is a state of mind. Texas is an obsession. Above all, Texas is a nation in every sense of the word….Texas is the only state that came into the Union by treaty. It retains the right to secede at will….It is a mystique closely approximating a religion….Rich, poor, Panhandle, Gulf, city, country, Texas is the obsession, the proper study and the passionate possession of all Texans.”

John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley

It was appropriate that my first trip to Texas should involve the bagging of its highest point. I had been contemplating this journey for the past eight years and my main concern was not the altitude of the peak but the weather patterns around the area. Last year it had been my intention to climb Guadalupe Peak in October 2005 but when checking the weather patterns around Guadalupe Peak I saw that it had been uncommonly rainy and stormy with massive flooding. Then I read a travel article in my local newspaper that said that one of the best times to visit Guadalupe Peak and the West Texas area is November. I decided to take a chance and move my trip back a month and pray for good luck. My prayers were rewarded when I got to spend ten lovely days visiting El Paso, Big Bend National Park, the Davis Mountains, and topping it off by bagging my 19th high point when I climbed Guadalupe Peak.

My base camp for climbing Guadalupe Peak was a dusty whistle-stop along the I-10 and the Southern Pacific Railway named Van Horn, Texas. Van Horn is a town that seems to be slowly dying as testament to the number of abandoned or burned out businesses that dot its main drag. Van Horn is an overnight haven for truckers or RVers who are on their way to somewhere else. I was unique. I actually spent three nights in Van Horn. I got into Van Horn on the 16th and checked the weather report via the computer at my hotel. The weather channel predicted perfect weather for the 17th and not so perfect weather for the 18th. Armed with this knowledge I loaded up on supplies for the journey. I was bringing five liters of water and six candy bars for the hike. I had my usual hiking equipment courtesy of L.L. Bean. I intended to get started at 6:00AM Van Horn time. (Van Horn is in the Central Time zone but Guadalupe Mountains National Park is in the Mountain Time zone. That factor alone caused me some problems getting some sleep during my trip).

As always I slept poorly that night. Even though I had a wake-up call at 6:00AM I was too anxious to sleep properly. I was up about 5:00AM waiting for the show to begin. When the call came I was out the door and having breakfast at the Sands Restaurant on the edge of town. Sunrise was at 7:30AM Central Time so I was eating French toast, sausage patties, and scrambled eggs in the pre-dawn darkness. I was back at the hotel at 6:25AM and quickly packed my equipment into the car (a silver Ford Focus). I left the hotel at 6:30AM and immediately got on Route 54 going due north towards the park. I needed something to keep me awake after a poor night’s sleep so I decided to play the disc one of the Who’s 1970 Isle of Wight concert CD. Within seconds the car’s interior reverberated with Pete Townsend’s jagged power chords and Keith Moon’s manic drumming.

I was doing 70 MPH so it took me an hour to get to the park. While I was driving I was treated to some interesting and dazzling vistas along the way. Route 54 takes you through some desolate mountain country. The atmosphere is one of isolation but here and there I could see some distant ranches tucked into the folds of the mountainous terrain. How those ranches maintained themselves is beyond my comprehension because the adjective that best describes this area is parched. To the West I could see the moon looking full and bright in its grayness. To the East I could see the faint glow of the pre-dawn sunlight slowly filtering its way through the gaps and declivities of the mountains. I spied various shades of orange and red light forming a colorful backdrop behind the eastern peaks. I encountered no other vehicles on the road during my drive. One time, near the end, I had to stop to make a pit stop along the road side. One thing that strikes me about the desert is how silent it is.

Finishing my ablutions, I made tracks for the park. As soon as I reached Route 62/180 I switched into the Mountain Time Zone (henceforth all times will be Mountain Time unless otherwise noted). It’s seven miles to Guadalupe Mountains National Park from the junction. It was 7:00AM when I reached the entrance and made my way to the Pine Springs Campground parking lot. One should note that the roadyway to the campground has now been completely paved whereas before it was a dirt road. There was as ample parking at the campground and I found a spot near the restrooms. It took me nearly thirty minutes to get my equipment together and to put on my hiking outfit. There were a few RVs parked at the lot and there was one nice gentleman sitting on a lawn chair enjoying the sunrise while preparing his breakfast (I asked him to take a picture of me at the trailhead before I began my journey—which he gladly did).

My main worry about the hike had been about the weather and not the hike itself. The greatest miracle in life is always a prayer that is answered. God answered my prayer and then some. I was treated to perfect, optimum conditions for hiking. The entire day was sunny, cool, clear, and very little wind at the lower elevations. Visibility was limitless in the morning hours although there was some haze later on as the day got warmer. There were no clouds at all. Never in my highpointing career was I granted such perfect weather.

At the trailhead there is a bulletin board containing relevant information as to hiking conditions plus the register is kept there. I was the first person up the trail for the 17th and I left my spoor before setting off. It was 7:27AM. The trail branches off from the other trails instantly and you start switchbacking almost right from the start. The trail in the beginning is more rock than earth. You are exposed at the start. When you reach the first mountain proper the trail winds back and forth from sunlight to shadow; from windward to leeward. The higher up you go on the first mountain the narrower the trail becomes. Obviously people ride horses on this trail though I can’t see how because it got very narrow at certain points. (Periodically I would see signs instructing horse-riders to dismount). Throughout the ascent I was completely alone. I had not had a chance to get acclimatised therefore I adopted a slow, leisurely pace to conserve energy. I chose a policy of hiking fifty minutes with ten minute restbreaks for water and food. I had enough supplies to get the job done. I never lacked for anything. I took breaks at 8:15AM and 9:15AM. The first break was just around the bend from the first mountain. I was in the leeward side but could see the parking lot from my position. Upon resuming the hike I entered the timberzone of the mountain. This portion of the trail was my favorite part of the hike. You are covered by moderate stands of ponderosa pine and the trail becomes softer and level as it traverses the first mountain and the second mountain along the way.

After my second rest break I was surprised to encounter a middle-aged male hiker descending the trail. Interestingly he had summitted the day before and had spent the night at the campsite below the summit. (I would later pass it on the ascent). When he told me that he had spent the night I was amazed because the weather the night before had been very cold in the mid-twenties). I asked him if he had seen anyone else on the trail above and he said no. I asked him how much I had to go and he said I was about halfway there. (I was a little disappointed. I thought I was closer because I saw a high mountain ahead of me but the guy told me that was a false summit. The true summit lay beyond).

When you reach the third elevation you switchback some more along an exposed ledge until you round a corner. There you find a small bridge over a gap in the trail. (Once you’ve crossed the bridge that’s when you know you are making the final approach to the summit). When I got there I could see hitching posts higher up and the metallic glint and gleam of the monument atop the summit of Guadalupe Peak. I knew I was close. I took a deep breath and began the final approach. After the relative ease and comfort of the middle part of the hike, the task of reaching the summit became tougher. The final switchbacks are narrower and steeper. The trail contains more loose scree and the footings are a touch trickier. After switching back a few times I rounded a corner into a sun-bleached trail. I looked down a few times and knew it would be a long drop if I made a false step. As I got closer it got cooler. The winds picked up a touch (although they were not intolerable). Just before you reach the summit you see a small sign telling you that the summit is this way (apparently that is to warn the horse-riders because the hitching posts are in the opposite direction of the final trail to the summit).

I made the turn and kept walking up and then, suddenly, like a a punch in the face, there it is: the monument. For a second I did a doubletake and then I hugged and kissed the monument, knowing I had reached my goal. It was 9:57AM. The ascent had taken me 2.5 hours. I did the now familiar rituals: the trinity of prayers, the photos of me with the U.S. and Texas state flags, the panoramic shots from the summit, the exploration of the summit region, and making my entry into the summit register (as I expected I was the first person on the summit that day).

As expected the views were magnificent. Visibility was limitless. I could see from horizon to horizon. No clouds obscured the view. Although there was haze on the outer limits of the horizon, I was struck by the crystal clarity of the autumn atmosphere of the summit. This was the signal moment of my trip and I felt shriven from my past sins because of this.

I spent an hour atop the summit. No one else came up during that time. I sat atop the summit like a penitent sentinel observing life rotate around me. Actually my mind slowly became blank. I had no major thoughts. In a way I was going through an emotional and spiritual purging of the past three months where I had endured a great deal of emotional pain. I was experiencing a Zen-like disconnection from myself. Yes, I was atop the summit but I might as well be elsewhere as well. That is not a criticism of the summit or the park itself. Actually I say this as praise because I felt that the summit (and the journey itself) had healed me for the time being of the pain of being myself in a strange home that seemed cold, hostile, and alien to me. If you ever meet me, you will find that I am at my best when I am on the road; when I am away from home because that is when I am free of the baggage I am fleeing from; that is why I am a packaged tourist on the Magical Mystery Tour called life. What I experienced was not unique. I’ve felt this before. When I climbed Bear Butte in South Dakota, I experienced a similar emptying of my internal burdens and felt healed for the moment by some Greater Power.

Even in my reverie, I kept myself occupied. I tried to find the survey marker without success (underneath the monument?). I noticed the rocks are white in color (limestone?) The rocks were tucked between tufts of what could have been tundra grass or stunted trees. I couldn’t tell. I finished my water bottle and ate a candy bar. My main thoughts were on the descent. Going down the final steps on the summit trail were going to be hairy. I needed to be gentle with my movements and show caution.

It was 10:57AM when I started the descent. I adopted a tortoise like pace, making sure my center of gravity was low and my footholds were firm. When I rounded the bend and was taking the switchbacks downward I ran into another hiker, a young guy. I told him he would be at the summit in 17 minutes. (The guy was a fast hiker. Soon after I made it back to the trailhead, he returned as well). Then, before I reached the bridge, I encountered a British couple from Newcastle in the North Country of England. We said hello and goodbye. After I crossed the bridge I encountered a couple wearing National Park Service volunteer uniforms. Whether they worked in the park, I didn’t know. They were the only people I encountered during my descent.

Once I reached the bridge, I relaxed a bit in my hiking. The trail had broadened and flattened out and it was a matter of walking the remaining distance. Again I took two rest breaks at 11:46AM and 12:45PM. My body was saturated with sweat. At the lower elevations I was a bit over-dressed (but atop the summit my warm clothing was a blessing. It was cold and I needed to wear my gloves as well).

It was 1:28PM when I reached the car. The Pine Springs Campground has excellent facilities. There is a restroom, picnic ground, information kiosks, and a payphone, all within easy access. I called my parents, used the facilities to clean up, changed my clothes, and loaded my equipment into the car. I stopped by the Visitor’s Center to buy two postcards to send to friends and loved ones and left the Park at 2:12PM. I didn’t return to Van Horn until 4:12PM Central Time.

I must say that the Guadalupe Peak trail is one of the most sparsely used trails I’ve ever encountered. Quite an interesting experience to say the least!

And now for the obligatory ‘thank yous’. First and foremost: to God, in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen; to the Quality Inn and Suites in El Paso for letting me stay at their lovely hotel; to the Best Western Hotel in Alpine for the same reasons: to Thrifty Car rental in El Paso for the silver Ford Focus that took me 1346 miles in ten days; to La Casita restaurant in Alpine for the delicious Mexican food; to the Longhorn Steakhouse in Alpine for the great Tex-Mex food as well; to Big Bend National Park for all the wonderful, glorious scenic wonders. Big Bend is one of the best kept secrets in the National Park system. Please give it a visit some day. You won’t be disappointed; to all personnel working at the Sul Ross University and the Culberson County libraries in Alpine and Van Horn, Texas, respectively for letting me use their computers to keep up to date with my email and my personal projects during my vacation. Sul Ross is a quiet, friendly university nestled in the hills overlooking Alpine. It was named after Sul Ross, a famous Texas Ranger who helped protect white settlers from Comanche raids during the mid-19th century; to Cappetto’s Italian restaurant in El Paso. If you have a hankering for great Italian food give Cappetto’s a try. The veal, the garlic bread, and the pasta were delicious!; to Monsignor Arturo Banuelas, pastor of Saint Pius X church in El Paso, for celebrating a great Mass the night before I returned home and for giving a rousing, magnificent, loving sermon that reaffirmed my faith (when it badly needed reaffirming). Monsignor Banuelas is a true man of God. Vaya con Dios!

Next year’s objective will be Mount Elbert in Colorado next September. It will be my first attempt past 14,000 feet. See you at the highpoints!

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