ok, ok. yes, it’s very big
Look. I’ll be honest. Where I come from, the term “Texan” is not so much a geographic indicator for a person as it is an all-encompassing drag; an unspoken hole that said Texan must, unjustly or not, dig himself out of. (Might I suggest taking off that cowboy hat, and tribal design pancho? You’ll have an easier time climbing out…Oof harsh!) But what can I say? Life is made up of adversity to overcome. This is Texas’ lot in life. To prove to Northern New Mexicans…and maybe everyone else too…that they deserve something more affectionate than side eye.
With that as a preface, I think you’ll be able to better understand my complete and utter shock that Texas, the Lonestar State, includes one of the most beautiful National Parks we’ve been able to visit!
Big Bend. It’s big, yes. But more importantly, it is a grand desert landscape enveloped within huge peaks and enormous waves of geologic wonders. It’s the edge of America, just a riverbed away from Mexico’s beautiful Santa Elena National Park (I know…that name. Absolutely angelic, no?), all capped by some of the darkest skies, and the brightest stars, in the nation. The park is close to nowhere. It’s not on your way to anything; but it’s worth your time and the many, many, maaaaany miles one must drive to get here. (I am contractually required to insert a very loud shout out to my dear friend Alex Krohn here, who has been trying to convince me, literally since we met nearly a decade ago, that Big Bend is one of Texas’s few redeeming qualities)
We were apparently so subconsciously excited to visit, that, indeed, we arrived an entire 24 hours early. You see, this retirement-ish life has served as the catalyst for many new hobbies and interests; time tracking is not really one of them. Turns out that when we arrived at our campground, astonished to see that some squatter had failed to vacate our reserved site, in fact…well…we learned that we were the trespassers. Our reservation was to begin the next day.
Luckily, the on-site ranger very graciously let us stay in the corner near the cow pasture despite our temporal oversight.
So Texas. It may be full of refrigerator-sized tumbleweeds, roadside javelina corpses, and irreverent cowboys. But I must remember that Texas brought us Beyonce; Texas brought us brisket; and Texas brought us Big Bend. For that, and exactly just that much and likely nothing more (except maybe also a very fun bachelorette party in Austin occasionally), I am eternally grateful.
