Dagger Mountain

Well, it was my Special Project Day on Thursday and I'd heard about these "shelter caves" on Dagger Mountain, so I thought I'd head out there and explore. If you look in the dead center of this photograph -- or click on it to enlarge -- you can see the limestone shelf with dark areas beneath it. That's them. (Or, more properly, That's they.) Whatever the case, that is our goal for today.


There, that didn't take long, did it? And here we are approaching the shelter caves that cowboys -- and maybe some Native Americans -- used to escape out of north winds in the winter. As there is a long fence of barbed wire here, too, this might have been a rancher's overnight stop while checking on the herd.


And here we are at one of several overhanging ledges that comprise these shelters. Some of them are just barely big enough to huddle or sleep in, some go back a ways into small antechambers of no use to men. Mountain lions might find them useful, though.


Here is one such "cave," as you might call it. Of course, being ever the amateur spelunker, I just had to get on hands and knees and check it out. I listened very intently for some time before doing so, just in case it was inhabited by some large, furry feline. No growls or sounds of movement (unsheathed claws scratching on rock) was forthcoming. This one led to the small antechamber I mentioned earlier, barely big enough to sit up in.


Here we are looking into yet another of these recesses, this one with a tarry covering on the roof like something out of a science-fiction movie. My conjecture is that it's tar from fires made with creosote bushes, since they have a waxy base. Whatever the case, it lent a spooky atmosphere to the place.


Even though this stuff is almost clear and looks watery, it's very hard to the touch. Had it been sappy and gotten on my fingers, I probably would've run screaming into the desert. (It didn't help having just watched The Blob the previous day!)


Here's another shot of the ceiling, looking like an artist's rendition of outer space. I found it quite beautiful and wouldn't mind having the pattern on my own ceiling.


I'm not sure if this is a petroglyph or not. It reminds me of the petroglyphs on The Chimneys, but it didn't make any sense at all -- just lines running up and down the ceiling. Kind of nice, anyway.


On my way out, I decided I ought to record some of the rancher's handiwork. Here is the fence post at the end of the fence where it meets the ledge. Nice texture and movement.


Okay, one final shot. I just fell in love with the the thought of all the years this fence has been here patiently rusting away, waiting for someone to come along and take its picture. I can just hear the ol' cowpoke now: "Dang, ain't this pretty? Somebody oughta take a pitcher of this!" And I did.

Ravin' Ravens

Always seeking to educate as well as entertain, here is a nice raven couple doing some sort of courtship ritual as they view themselves in the mirrored film of the Persimmon Gap Visitor Center's front window. They're regulars around here, and have been for some time, but we just haven't gotten around to naming them yet. After Mary's visit, though, we may have to give it some thought. (Be sure to check out the video I took of this little display over in the right-hand pane.)

Oh, yeah?

Okay, okay. So I was a little vague about the actual height of this bifurcated yucca in my Alpine Run album. Sorry. (It's funny what people will get hung up on. There were some who thought it was an optical delusion.) Not having an inclinometer or any other such device to actually measure its height, I decided to do the next best thing -- stand next to it for a little scale. Now all you unbelievers out there can just take your little 6" rulers out of your pocket protectors and shove 'em up . . . against your monitor and do the math. I'm 5'10" tall. (I used to be 5'11", but something happened.) Let me know what you come up with, give or take an inch.

[You should get something around 21 feet, but that's not taking parallax into account. I have my own 6" ruler, I'm just not smart enough to work a pocket protector.]

Elk Roundup

Yesterday, when last we saw our intrepid elk (whose name turned out to be Mary), she was wandering down the Persimmon Gap entrance road. Today, we find her wandering around our housing area, under the watchful eye of Bob, making herself right at home like some big dog of ours.


"Hmm. Maybe there's some snacks in here." If you recall the shot from yesterday of her tagging along after a pickup, it becomes apparent that Mary's rightful owners feed her and her kin from the back of pickups. No such luck here, though.


Well, she might've been looking for a snack, but she inhaled four bowls of water out of one of my mixing bowls without stopping. Funny thing, too -- she didn't lap it up like a dog as much as suck it up like a vacuum cleaner. Very ladylike.


Sally and Mary getting in out of the sun. We all had the grandest time visiting and making Mary feel right at home, cooing over her and petting her. She rapidly became a fixture in the community.


"Well, maybe there's something in here." Ever on the prowl for munchies, Mary checks out Ranger Cutler's vehicle in hopes of something to nosh. No luck here, either, I'm afraid. Sorry, Mary.


"Come on, Mary. Come on!" Here's Joe, a ranch hand at the Chalk Draw Ranch -- home of J. P. Bryan, the owner of the Gage Hotel -- coming to round up Mary and return her back to her herd. They have their own herd of elk there, so it's no wonder that Mary was so tame.


"This is not my trailer." Mary appears to ponder the openness and rustiness of this cattle trailer, very charitably provided by local rancher Ben Love -- in a personal appearance -- for her relocation.


And in we go. With the help of an apple provided by Sally, Mary is led into the trailer and back to the life she knows so well. Hopefully, after all the fuss we made over her, she'll be able to readjust.


Loaded up and ready to go. Here we are, watching Mary preparing to head off back to her regular life. Even though our whole day was tied up in keeping tabs on "the big dog" -- well, Bob's whole day, anyway -- it was still quite sad to see it put to an end.


And away she goes. It's funny how an event can have such an impact on your day -- or your life -- but Mary's visit was one such event which we will long remember. She will be missed.


Vaya con Dios, Mary. You will be always in our thoughts.

Surprise!!!

It was definitely a weekend for firsts for me here in the park. Not only was that my first elk I've ever seen in the park (I've seen many more in my travels, and even got to view rutting season -- complete with "boinking" -- in Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado), but look what I found in the booth's closet while rummaging for printer ink. Wo! Don't think this little guy didn't take me by surprise.


And I do mean little. I always figured scorpions would be about four inches long or so, but this guy was just over an inch, as you can probably tell by the scale of the laptop. He was really cute, but I was glad he was dead. I'll bet he could still pack a whallop with that little stinger of his, though. I took this shot -- a cropping of the above shot so you can click on it and get the maximum exposure -- this morning after leaving him right where he is so my co-worker Jim wouldn't miss him. [Oh, rats! I forgot to leave him a note warning him. Darn!]

What A Morning!

Well, this is how it started -- nice, muted, fluffy clouds in soft pastel colors against the clear blue sky. I would have been happy with just this. In fact, I was.


But then, as I snapped away at the various permutations of clouds and colors, the sky to the east began to do its Fire Dance. I just love it when this happens.


After taking the weather and gathering my bank for today's -- my Friday -- activities, I was greeted with this spectacular lighting of the mountain just above my place. Full on yellow! I was amazed.


Then the fun started. About a week or so ago, I was informed that some Term positions on the Trail Crew at Acadia would be making their appearance on the job listings, so I busied myself in the early hours spiffing up my resume. While rapt in thought over just how much fiction I could embroider into it, I heard this clopping sound outside my window on the incoming lane side. I looked over and Wo!!! There was an elk! What the . . . ? I'd heard elk bugling last season while talking with my co-worker, Jim, on our "back porch" but I'd never seen one of these beasts here in the park before. What a coup!


Needless to say, traffic was sketchy during this time. Eventually, the elk trotted along beside this pickup (it had been molesting the driver for food at the picnic area just down the hill) and eventually I had to call in the Rangers to come and remove him -- or her -- from the roadway, lest it be damaged in some way. What a remarkable day! Does anybody remember Northern Exposure? The similarity was just too close.

Good Morning

I spent the night at the home of my buddies Jennifer and Romaldo after attending Burger Nite last night, and was rewarded with this shot from the road leading to their house outside of Terlingua on my way home this morning. You gotta get up early to see this kind of stuff.

Lost Mine Trail

Here is one of our iconic rock formations here at Big Bend -- Casa Grande -- doing what it does best: Looming. (I didn't make that up myself, it's actually in the site bulletin for the trail.) That's all it does pretty much all day long, unless it's shrouded in fog, which happens occasionally. It probably still looms, it's just quiet about it.


Along the way, you come across many varieties of plant and tree life, most of which are pointed out in the site bulletin. This is by far my most favorite one for its character and texture -- the alligator juniper. Its name comes from the similarity in its bark to the hide of an alligator, and is quite close.


Up on top, we look across Juniper Canyon toward the south, taking in the tooth-shaped mountain Elephant Tusk and its companions Backbone Ridge and Dominguez Mountain (l to r). The broad ridge on the right (behind the tree) is Toll Mountain. Funny how the tree on the right's shape mimics the lines of the rock on the left. Huh.


Time for lunch. I chose the point on the far side of the little clump of vegetation for my lunch/nap site. It was off the main trail, so the likelihood of intrusion was at a minimum. It worked great -- I have the sunburn to prove it. (Light breeze, partly cloudy, temps in the 60s -- ahh, Texas!)


On our way back down now, we look across toward The Basin. The campground can be made out in the bottom of the light-colored curve (click to enlarge), with The Window formed by the pointy peak in the center and the mountain on the right. The desert sprawls out a good 4000' below that. What a place, huh? And look at all these trees. Don't tell me there aren't any trees in the desert.

Alpine Run

I just wanted to let y'all know there's a new photo album in town -- or at least in the works. I've had a request to show the places and things I see when I'm in town, so I shot a bunch of them yesterday on one of my runs, so this will just be a sampling. By the way, ever since I had to switch over to the Google-powered blog, the images zoom way off the screen if you click on them. I went into the template to see if I could find where this was occurring and tone it down, but I couldn't find it. As I'm not an official member of blogger (they expect you to pay!), I don't have access to the Help Desk. Hopefully, someone else has had the same problem and it'll get fixed soon. Sorry 'bout that.


Here is Alpine's city limit sign, which is much more elaborate and artsy than your typical ones we all have to put up with. Notice the careful composition of this shot: Not only do we have twin yuccas in the foreground, we also have the locally-famous Twin Peaks in the background. Pretty clever, huh? Hey, I had to lean on a barbed-wire fence to accomplish this little feat, so let's hear some hands clapping out there, okay?


Right beside the city limit sign is this old broken-down wagon, no doubt put there for effect. I just couldn't pass up taking a shot at it. Kinda tricky, as it's on the other side of the aforementioned barbed-wire fence, and we all know how that goes.


Now, where would the Great State of Texas be without the dear ol' Longhorn? As you can see, this is only a replica of one -- and not a very accurate one at that -- but it wasn't really meant to be, I guess. I liked it for its character, just the same. This stands just below Lawrence Hall (home of the Museum of the Big Bend) at one of the entrances to Sul Ross State University.

Okay, folks, that's it for now. There were some issues uploading the photos onto Yahoo Photos -- as always! -- so a couple of the pictures that should have been in the middle had to get tacked on at the end. As Yahoo Photos is PC-based and I am now Mac-based, certain features aren't available to me, like rearranging photos, I'm afraid. So, I'll have to wait to rearrange them, as I have a Special Project Day tomorrow (Lost Mine Trail) and won't be back in the booth until Friday, where the computer is Yahoo-friendly. Just keep your eye on that Inbox!

Evening Light

Boy, the light here in the evenings is just unbelievable, especially when it floods into the house. (Steven Spielberg used the same type of light in his movie Always. Check it out.) The lighting across my stove -- splitting the cactus spoonrest -- just excites me to no end sometimes. As always, this shot doesn't do it justice.