West Texas New Years 2023

We rang in 2019 in Big Bend and it was pretty spectacular. But it was also very crowded. So last summer, when George found an AirBnB option about fifteen miles outside Terlingua in the middle of nowhere with its own kitchen, we booked it without much additional consideration. And in uncharacteristic fashion, we didn’t go back in and fill in the blanks — instead opting for a “huh, so what do we want to do today?” approach.

And after being tossed overboard by the great log flume of decembermania, I didn’t put up anything on the blog. But I was delighted to later learn that there were those wishing that I had — so I’d like to offer a little recap of yet another adventure in this magical place.

Day 0: Austin to Terlingua

I woke up at the crack of dawn to drive to Terlingua in one sitting. Aside from a startling impact to my windshield near Iraan, it was a lovely drive. I met up with the boys on US-67 just south of I-10 and we rolled through Alpine and into Terlingua Ranch together.

Day 1: Old Ore Road and Ernst Tinaja

We spent the first day on Old Ore Road, revisiting Ernst Tinaja on the way, and finished up at the Rio Grande Overlook. The drive was easier than when we had to do it in the dark back in 2018, although there’s been some washout since I did it in February. And at one point, we ended up passing a posse of three cars, one of which had a transfer case stuck in neutral and the other was missing two wheels — its owner got two flats and had to get new tires back in town.

While we executed this delicate pass, Evan noticed that the Rover seemed to be leaking diff fluid from the front transaxle and I set off the Xterra’s car alarm… in such a way that the easiest method to silence it was to yank my horn relay. So it was a rough day for automobiles everywhere.

But we survived our trials and arrived back to Ernst Tinaja, which remains my favorite little hidden gem of the park. But that pool about half-way through the canyon is still full, which I yet again attempted to find a way over.

And as we rolled out the end of Old Ore Road back to the park highway, the sun was starting to set in the distance.

Day 2: Santa Elena Canyon and Mule Ears Springs, and a Missing Comrade

I woke up to a light rain, which in all the times I’ve been in this region, I’ve only seen one other time. During breakfast and the drive into the park, the rain stopped and clouds parted. What remained was a glorious technicolor desert.

Today was reserved for hiking instead of offroad escapades, so given yesterday’s worrying fluid leak in the Rover, Evan left it behind and braved the passenger seat of the pickup. We started with Old Maverick Road from the park entrance at Terlingua straight down to Santa Elena Canyon where the river enters the park from Lajitas. This was the best view of the canyon I’ve ever seen.

We made a stop briefly at the Castolon Ranger’s Station and Visitor Center so that George could stamp his parks passport. We asked if they had any recommendations for a hike nearby, and they suggested Mule Ears Trail, which I’ve never done before. It’s another iconic hike, with a view of the Mule Ears through the desert floor all the way to a tiny spring next to the ruins of a sheep corral built with stone.

Back at the house, we made dinner, set a fire, and watched the stars a while.

Day 3, New Year’s Eve: AutoZone, Madrid Falls, and Camping at Choro Vista

We applied our Evan Trip Stickers, then packed out of the AirBnB to head up the stunning FM170 along the river to Presidio. We made one last top there before diving back into Big Bend Ranch State Park. As ordered by tradition, we visited an AutoZone — Evan wanted extra diff fluid, just in case, and in exchange for letting me use their restroom (the last for a while…), I finally bought replacement for the dome light that’s been out for ages.

Reasonably prepared and lightly fed, we left Presidio and entered the park. Our campsite, Choro Vista, wasn’t too much further down Madrid Falls Road from where Vista del Chisos was. The drive in was lovely, if a little washboarded, to the Sauceda Ranger’s Station. From there, Madris Falls Road was perhaps a little more washed out than last time, but also we were better at it. And Evan broke out the drone again and experimented with chase patterns on “The Big Hill.”

I gotta admit, it’s pretty epic looking footage. I originally had dreams of mixing in video and audio segments pulled in from our dashcams, too, but mercifully, my dashcam overwrote all of that before I got back to it, so I was spared what would have turned into many additional hours of editing.

We finally arrived into Choro Vista an hour before sunset and made our way down to the Madrid Falls Overlook.

The sun set as we hiked back to the dramatic ridge over our campsite where we caught the beginnings of twilight. Then it was a rush to make camp before it got too dark.

We spent the evening by the campfire, ready to welcome 2023.

Day 4, New Year’s Day: Ojito Adentro and Alpine’s Oldest Hotel

If I keep doing this, I need to start thinking about where sunrise is gonna hit me.

Happy New Year! We woke up and wandered about a bit before cleaning up and heading back the way we came to Sauceda.

There were a few hikes along the main park road I’d wanted to check out. The Ranger who was wandering around the Ranger’s Station sent us on a quest to another little spring, Ojito Adentro.

We took an unpaved road, Casa Piedra or County Road 169, depending on which map you’re reading, out the north end of the park toward Marfa. Being much less traveled than the two park highways on either side, the drive was beautiful yet sparsely sprinkled with homesteads that look a little … uninviting and prepper-y, replete with No Tresspassing signs and intimidating yard art along fencelines. When we hit pavement again, we stopped at the Site of Alamito to reinflate tires and poke around what little remains of this ghost town.

Alamito Creek has been a passageway and the scene of human activity sine prehistoric times. […] Beginning in the 1850s, the infamous Chihuahua Trail, a route for heavy freight wagons from San Antonio to Chihuahua, Mexico, passed near Alamito. By 1870, Alamito was a community with several families farming and working on nearby ranches. John Davis, a pioneer from North Carolina, was a strong community leader. He married Francisca Herrera, the daughter of Carlos Herrera, one of the first Spanish settlers of Alamito, in 1875. They build a home with a chapel, one-room school, and a canal for crop irrigation. Davis was known for serving peach brandy to weary travelers who came through on the Chihuahua Trail. Francisca died in 1892 and was buried near the chapel in Alamito. The grief-stricken Davis went back to North Carolina and never returned to this area. [… These days, only ruins of the Davis-Herrera homestead remain, but ruts of the Chihuahua Trail can still be seen in the bedrock to the north.]

“Site of Alamito,” Texas Historical Commission placard on Highway 169

Aired up, we headed back into Alpine, where George had booked us rooms at the oldest place in town, The Holland Hotel. It (re-?)opened to the public in 1928 to great fanfare at a total construction cost of $250,000 and bosting 70 guest rooms, baths, telephone service, and its own banquet hall. (Each floor had a had a framed copy of every regional paper that ran this press release.)

Day 5: Alpine to Tulsa

700 miles, more or less. I followed the boys back to Tulsa to see a couple folks. Audiobooks, radio chatter, highway hypnosis.

Day 6: A return to the real world

Wherein I set up shop in the corner of the living room and tried to remember how work works while dogs tried to distract (rescue?) me.

Day 7: Climb Tulsa

Our friend Thomas, who now lives in Japan, was back home visiting family, and has taken up bouldering lately. So he asked if we could hit up Climb Tulsa one night, which has become one of my favorite gyms. He did well!

Day 8: Tulsa to Austin

I’m closing in on 100,000 miles with Xterra the Younger. I can’t tell if doing that in less than 5 years is fast or slow. But I have now solidly overtaken the Rover’s odometer. And no, that SES light is nothing serious — just that clogged EVAP valve code that pops up every time he gets dusty.


It would be hard to summarize 2022, except to say it was full of surprises and grand adventures — literal and metaphorical. 2023 has a lot to live up to. Happy New Year!