Big Bend VI - Shaking the Dust From Our Boots...

Just in case you didn’t know what you wanted for Christmas – this fine item is available, posted on the wall of a store in Terlingua. Congratulations to the couple who got engaged at the top of the Lost Mine trail while we were hiking. We saw them coming down, and they looked gloriously happy.

Thank you, again, to FedEx and SuperFriend Dana, who saved my bacon.

Hey, gas station guy – you might want to try civilization for a while. You’ve spent a little too much time in the company of your own thoughts.

How big are tarantulas? Big enough that when you’re driving 60 mph on the highway, you can see them crossing the road. Think about that.

The kids on our rafting trip were a lot of fun – but I’m glad I didn’t have to drive them home. Mud EVERYWHERE.

Okay, lady – we get it, you wanted to go to Santa Elena Canyon. We all did. But after the sights and extra time we got on Colorado Canyon, you can’t think we got a bad deal. Oh wait…you still do.

“Planting a flag” in Mexico is definitely a euphemism. Thankfully, not one I had to endure.

I can’t wait to go back and have breakfast at India’s Café again.

Hearing the stories from the river guides about bureaucratic border nonsense makes me want to bang my head against a wall. Or a margarita.

One of the prettiest sunrises I’ve seen was an early morning at the Chisos Mountain Lodge. Glorious.

The tug-of-war rages – with this jewel of a park, I want the Big Bend area to succeed. But if they become too successful, the area could lose the remoteness that makes it special.

The walls of Santa Elena Canyon could double for the Wall in Game of Thrones – without the ice.

Big Bend, Part II - Or, That's as Close to Lightning as I Need to Be

As I carried the box holding my camera bag back to my room, lightning flashed to the south. Backing up for a second – the Chisos Mountain Lodge sits in a big bowl in the mountains. The Window is a crack in the west side of the bowl, making a beautiful spot for sunsets – or lightning watching, if you’re into that kind of thing.

From where I was standing, lightning buzzed and flashed through the clouds to the west – still far enough away that it wasn’t raining, but making for some great views through the Window.

Racing back to my room, I pulled out my bag and tripod and headed for a small scenic overlook trail in front of the lodge. The storm seemed to be drifting to the left of the Window, behind the mountains, but some long exposures helped me capture a couple of lightning strikes.

After about 20 minutes of shooting, I went back to the room to see what Superwife’s plans were for the evening. We had talked about going for an evening hike, and I was hoping to find a place where we could continue to watch the storm.

Not a problem, as it turned out.

We packed our gear, stepped out of our room, and found a cloud monster had eaten the surrounding mountains.

The storm had shifted course, bringing the lightning and rain right into the bowl around us. The wind picked up fast, blowing hats off and sending papers swirling. Rain began to pelt us, hard drops that sprayed off the ground. Thunder boomed around the timpani drum of the mountains.

Immediately giving up on the hike, we started for the lodge. I stopped in amazement as the clouds rolled down the mountain behind our building, disappearing the trees and rock formations.

I stopped to try and capture the swarming clouds, but the wind and rain made it almost impossible. I shot one frame:

And then we ran for the lodge, where we sat and felt very small as the storm raged around us.

The turning point was a sudden change in tone from the roof and windows. Quarter-sized hail started bouncing off the deck and dinging the cars in the parking lot.

After about 15 minutes of that, the storm lessened quickly, leaving a watercolor-smeared sky.

Next – Why all that rain in a desert isn’t necessarily a good thing.