I sit now and write, it is cooler, being a hundred miles north of Big Bend. The wind is blowing so hard that the RV rocks violently, when it gusts Dusty jumps, shows me her worried look and asks me what she did wrong. We are in an RV park, just a bit of desert with a few poles that supply electric, water and sewer. It was a long ride here yesterday, but we needed to make it to Marfa at night. We drove through the Big Bend Ranch State Park, just west of the national park. It was rated one of the most beautiful roads in America, by National Geographic. We could see why, the road, following the Rio Grande, crashes up and down through the valley of US/Mexican mountains. Sometimes at the water level, sometimes at the peaks.
We made one stop, Sandy had had all the walking she wanted to do that day, and so I did the Closed Canyon by myself. I expected a short hike through a small close rock canyon. The start to the canyon was a hundred yards from the road. A 5-foot opening shows a level floor of rock covered with loose gravel. I walk a hundred yards inside and it winds and twists, widens and narrows. But it keeps on going. I am tired, but want to get to the end. I’m not sure if that’s a guy thing, but I have to get to the end. I don’t really care about the end, do I expect a view of the opening of the secret valley? But I have to get there. It is failure if I don’t go as far as I can. I must have gone a mile and a half. Great, beautiful, gorgeous rock. How much gorgeous rock have I seen on this trip. I don’t care about the gorgeous rock, I am not looking at the rock any more, just pounding along with the guy thing. I am tired and the morning’s walk had almost crippled me. My face feels so hot it will melt off. Its probably just around the next bend. Almost there.
I don’t know how long Closed Canyon is. Maybe it never ends. I finally came to my senses, or maybe my heart was just beating too hard, but I turn around, the guy part frustrated and head back. But as I leave the canyon into the hotter air, I refuse to be beaten and in my guy voice, I vow to return, someday, to get to the end, when I have more time.
We have been hearing about the Marfa mystery lights for a week. Everyone in Big Bend seems to have his or her story. Reports have been going on since 1883. It is why Marfa is on the map at all. We rested until 9:00pm and then drove out, the darkness having taken hold for an hour, to the viewing sight 8 miles east of Marfa. Finding a spot to stand and stare south, we wait for something to happen. I am reminded of Close Encounters of the Third Kind when the people lined the high pass road waiting for alien ships, only to be accosted by helicopters. The descriptions on the Internet run from colored lights dancing in the sky to blinking lights moving close to the horizon. We stood there and it was only that there were 25 other people staring at the blackness nearby that kept me from feeling stupid. Finally Sandy asks, “Did you see that white light move?” We stare and there are sometimes 2 sometimes 4 lights, way off in the distance. They look like bright flashlights seen from 15 or 20 feet away. But we see these lights off in the field, five hundred yards away? Maybe more. It is pitch black and the lights are at times strong and then blink out or move up a few feet or to the side ten. When they appear again, they are sometimes in the same place or sometimes fifty feet away. It’s weird. The phenomenon goes on for about 45 minutes and we go home and dream of alien encounters.
No comments:
Post a Comment