On the southeastern border of the park lies the last wilderness. There is no gas. No potable water. No border point of entry. No electricity. The facilities are vault toilets. The visitor center has burned down. This is Castolon.
Chisos Basin is the crown jewel of the park. The lodge, high-altitude climate, 4 bars of LTE and signature hikes in the mountains attract the day trippers. South of Chisos, Rio Grande Village is for the river adventurers. River access and border crossings are supported by a full-service gas station, laundry, showers and a mart. The Rio Grande campground is full hook-up.
After 7 days exhausting Rio and Chisos, our same sized Village neighbor strongly suggested that we not take Roxie down the Ross-Maxwell scenic highway to Castolon. Hairpin turns and 20% grades are just not worth the risk. Plus, when you get there, how will you live? We had an idea and two weeks prior, detoured for WIFI in a McDonalds parking lot in Louisiana, where we reserved 4 nights in Cottonwood as soon as the reservation window opened.
Cottonwood is the primitive campground in the heart of Castolon. We had ample opportunity to cancel, and almost did many times as the oppressive heat wave set new high temp records in Big Bend. In the end we decided to give it a shot. What’s the worst that could happen? Don’t answer that.
The Ross-Maxwell scenic highway is eminently passable by a big rig if you know what you are doing. Most visitors drive it, turn around, and drive it back same day in their sedan. Eric worked Boss’ gears to the end of the road, where Bossy Bonnie runs a tight ship at Cottonwood Campground. Tents and tear drops fill most of the sites. Roxie tucked in to shady site 7 trying not to draw attention to her height and length. The rangers will tell you that since they rarely drive to Castolon, what Bonnie says goes. We hit it off splendidly once she saw our solar set-up. She just wanted to be sure weren’t going to flip on on generators, idle the truck, or disturb the completely natural birding environment.
There is an art to living unplugged when the environment is triple digit hot. It’s not easy, but in survival there is some satisfaction. A cold beer out of the fridge, a shower at the end of the day and a cool place to sleep are all possible if you have a plan, but it’s not easy. And also, sometime plans fall apart.
In Cottonwood, a massive Game-of-Thrones wall provides the southern backdrop. Tall cottonwood trees provide life saving shade. After sunset, the darkness is so thick you could cut it. The night sky has 100 times the number of visible stars. A Great Horned Owl sits perches over our site in a large Cottonwood tree, Queen of her domain. It is nature at her best, formidably unforgiving and achingly beautiful all at once.
The reason people come to Cottonwood to camp is to visit Santa Elena Canyon or to spot a great horned owl. Since said owl was perched above Roxie (check), we took off for the Rio Grande where the limestone walls rise 1500 feet from the banks. Ranger Christie at the Castolon station suggested we wear water shoes and, if we’re feeling adventurous, walk up the river at the end of the marked trail. Get your feet wet; go as far as you feel comfortable, she said.
What Christie didn’t know was that we find comfort in discomfort. Challenge on. After a quick stop at the overlook for an I’m not sure what that we’re hiking view, we entered a conga line for another overlook that wound its way up for a birdseye view then down to the water for an I can’t believe I’m standing in this canyon view. Spectacular.
While our fellow hikers were in boots and sneaks, we were in our sturdy Keen water shoes that we’d procured in West Virginia while rafting the New River Gorge. With walking sticks, water and almond butter and strawberry jam sandwiches, we left the wrong-shoed people behind and started a splash walk up the ankle deep middle until it got deeper and muddier and Eric was trying to boulder scramble an impossible pass to keep us going.
There was no way Sheri was making the scramble, but while she waited behind for Eric to reconnoiter, an adventure company was shepherding its paid flock through the water at the shallowest passes and Sheri joined the group, skirt hiked up like a bathing suit.
When we reunited on the other side, we pressed faster and farther until we reached what Eric called The Cathedral and Sheri called the Sacrificial Temple. Either way it wasn’t on the trail map and we felt like we’d discovered hidden Big Bend. And if that weren’t enough, we pressed forward another mile into the canyon, agreeing to just one more bend until three had passed and Sheri was sucked into quickmuck, almost losing her shoes and her life at the same time. At that point we discussed turning back, but of course we pressed on. Would we ever be traversing the Mexico /America border in a silent canyon again? Unlikely.
It was a deep crossing that finally pulled the plug. We turned back reluctantly, returning to the Cathedral Sacrificial Temple to hide in the shade and refuel with lunch and sunscreen. On the return we pitied the fools who wore regular shoes and ourselves for pressing so far so long that we were baking in a 2pm 109 degree all sun trail return.
Back at camp it is living, cooking, and sleeping in high heat. We modify our lifestyle because Mother Nature makes no accommodations for us. With a 60 gallon tank of fresh water and two solar panels to charge the batteries we are hopeful we can survive til departure on Sunday. How long can we go on 3 hours of sleep each night? Relentless flies, a baking sun during the day, and at night a 30 mph 95 degree wind that is overturning tables, tents and chairs. Can we make it? Place your bets.
