BackLounge Travel: Big Bend National Park, Texas
For pristine night skies with a view of Saturn's rings and probable encounters with bears, ditch the Grand Canyon for the Big Bend
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In the morning, we ran into the park ranger. A sprightly woman of about 65 in a khaki uniform, she emerged from the gigantic RV (recreational vehicle) she shared with her husband. “Ah," we thought on seeing her, “she’ll have the answer!" So we ran after her and asked.
“Bear!" we thought she’d say. We wanted her to say. But she didn’t.
We had been on the road all of the previous day. No surprise there: Big Bend National Park in western Texas, US, is the kind of place that takes all day to reach, regardless of where you start from. And since it’s 100 miles (around 160km) or more from the nearest reasonable towns, you have to really want to go to Big Bend. And boy, I wanted to go.
On a visit years ago, we had lugged along a small but powerful Schmidt-Cassegrain telescope to train on Big Bend’s famously pristine night skies. We shivered as we peered, sitting outside our tents. But my reward was my first-ever sight of Saturn’s rings, and it filled me with a thrill I still hold on to.
On another visit, two of us tried to wade across the Rio Grande. The river forms the border with Mexico in that part of Texas, and the huge curve it makes there gives the park its name. There’s a spot, with dramatic cliffs on either side, where the river is no more than 20-30m across.
Why not squeeze in a quick Mexican vacation, we thought. We reached the middle without problems, but the flow suddenly got just swift enough to leave me unsure that my next step wouldn’t be my last. Ever.
Oh yes, I wanted to go to Big Bend.
I mean, well-travelled friends asked: “Ah, a road trip through the southern states! Going to the Grand Canyon?" My reply—No, we’re going to Big Bend!—usually brought on furrowed brows and looks of sympathy for the family: “You mean he’s depriving you of seeing the greatest natural wonder in the known universe and taking you to, where, Big Ben?"
No, no, it’s Big BenD! With the “D"!
Some 10 miles down the road, we swung left on to a dirt track and rumbled through a haze of low shrubs to a large oval-shaped clearing. All we could see was a number of large boxes, regularly spaced on the periphery of the clearing. Bear-proof boxes, we realized, each next to a flattened space where we could pitch a tent. And that’s it.
“Backcountry", yes indeed. But no water, no toilets, no fellow-campers, and bears possibly rattling around outside our tent all night, searching for food? No thanks.
“String up your rain sheet," the ranger lady advised. “There’s a 10% chance of rain tonight. You don’t want to be trying to set it up in the middle of the night."
We followed her advice.
“Don’t forget about the bears," the ranger lady advised.
We followed her advice.
We dined—cheese and bread—by the light of a handsome desert sunset. With not much to do afterwards, sleep beckoned. So we slithered into our sleeping bags.
Some indeterminate hours later, I woke from a dreamless sleep. The tent was being blown about as if some giant hand had grabbed it and was suffering the fits. We had staked it down securely, and, besides, it contained all four of us plus sleeping bags and assorted other gear. So I wasn’t worried that we’d fly off into the night. But it was shaking something fierce, and now there were raindrops as well, heavy on our rain sheet.
Then I heard it. A whisper, sibilant and distinct, above the rain. Was I now dreaming? A bear in the rain whispering to me? I actually shook my head to clear the cobwebs. And now it was even calling my name! “Dilip!" it said, urgently, “there’s something here!"
Not a bear, but my wife, over on the other side of the tent, whispering frantically. “Right here beside me, outside the tent! I can feel it!" Suddenly wide awake, I whispered back: “No, it’s just the wind that’s shaking the tent! Go to sleep!" But she was insistent: “No no, not the wind! I can feel it! Up against me on the outside, something warm and solid, burrowing against me like a child!"
Between us, our son groaned in sleepy frustration: “Can you guys please stop muttering and let me sleep?"
In the morning, we surveyed the outside of the tent. No sign of an animal. But even the thought that a bear—a real live hairy hungry bear!—might have been there filled us with a certain tingling awe. One more Big Bend memory to savour and tell the world about, surely.
So we ran after the park ranger lady.
“Rabbit!" she said.
Trip planner
Go
There are flights from Mumbai/New Delhi to Austin, Texas, with two stops (usually, one each in Europe and an east coast city in the US). From Austin, it’s about an 8- to 10-hour drive (around 450 miles) and can cost around $40 (about 2,540) a day for the smallest car. Fuel is about $2.50 a gallon. If you have the time, get off the main highway (I-10) through that part of Texas and take the smaller, far prettier roads.
Stay
If you have a tent (or an RV), Big Bend has three major campgrounds: Chisos Basin Campground, Rio Grande or Cottonwood. Chisos Basin is the highest (5,400ft) and most spectacular (but it cannot handle large RVs). There is also the Chisos Mountains Lodge, which offers rooms and cottages. Rooms start at $135 a night for double occupancy. The towns of Terlingua and Study Butte, just outside the park, have various motel options.
Eat
The Chisos Mountains Lodge Restaurant and Patio, part of the Chisos Mountains Lodge, is the only restaurant inside the park. Terlingua and Study Butte have several restaurants, though you should check for closing times, especially in winter. Marathon (75 miles away) has Big Bend Pizza, home to the best home-made pizza we had anywhere in the US, run by Susan Spears—she makes the pizza in front of you.
Dilip D’ Souza writes the column A Matter Of Numbers for Mint.
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