Big Bend Day Four More Ups
Frost was on the windscreen of the F250 but it started without too much complaint. The forecast was for low 60’s and sun—great hiking weather.
After our breakfast of coffee, bacon, eggs, and toast, we headed out. I wore far too many coats and jackets and ended up taking them off as we hiked. I thought the park should consider putting in lockers at strategic locations along with benches.
The parking lot for the trail is considerably closer to the main road with a much longer hike to the original parking lot. The ranger told us it was not a well-advertised hike as others had not been respectful. One other vehicle was parked there—we met that hiker at the Oak Spring junction; and on our return a runner in blue spandex ran ahead on the trail back to the main road.
It seemed the trail was mostly up on the way there and on the way back. I had decided to wear my hiking books—but the sole parted company from the boot. I tied a shoe lace around it; and continued on.
The end of the trail is over and between some very large granite boulders Neither of us felt sufficiently confident in our balance, agility, and muscle power to climb over the last few rocks. There was also the thought of aging bones and the challenge of packing someone out—-still it is still one of the prettiest places I have ever been. Ferns cover many of the rocks and the water running over the rocks is soothing. Water striders were in some of the quieter parts and I tried for some photos but was unsuccessful.
We stopped at the Oak Spring junction to rest a bit; I tried another drawing and then we returned to the truck where we had lunch sitting on the end gate.
Sam Nail Ranch was across the road with a working windmill, fig trees, and a raven that fussed at us for sitting on a bench.
Our final stop was at the Dorgan Sublett House. It is always fascinating to me—that people would look at this landscape of sand and rocks and scattered cactus and think—what a great place to have a farm. Growing up in Wisconsin, you could hear the corn growing and it was a challenge to keep weeds in somewhat control. Most of the farming here was stock; some fields with irrigation. The houses were made of adobe brick and carefully stacked rocks—plenty of those.
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The weekend tourists seemed to have left—or perhaps they were in different parts of the park—there were more people than we expected but far fewer than the weekend.
Tomorrow we will assess the status of our feet and muscles and make a decision about the day’s activities.
Sylvia Weir Art 
I too have been in places that left me scratching my head as to why anyone would think it was a great place to put down roots – that flat stretch of nothing across South Dakota comes to mind . . .
Driving across South Dakota in January is different than July—I’d be much more inclined in July than January