dirtbagging: part 2/3

By Greyson Gilbert

Struggle is a necessity of life. I am a full believer in that truth. My life feels most directionless and meaningless when I do not have a mission or goal that I am struggling and fighting to achieve every day. Sometimes, it is an actual physical struggle, like climbing a mountain, completing a long run, or pushing through a tough workout. Other times it is more about winning the mental battle over the enemy of fear and doubt. Either way, as Teddy Roosevelt put it, "We must all either wear out or rust out, every one of us. My choice is to wear out." Our second day in the desert reminded me of that.

On Saturday, we woke up, watched the sunrise, bid our new friends goodbye and drove an hour to the park headquarters, where the trailhead for Emory Peak is. The headquarters were filled to the brim with people, all trying to get a campsite like us. After waiting in line for an hour and a half, they announced that all of the campsites in the park were full. Every one. 

There’s no cell service whatsoever when you drive into the Chisos mountains in Central Big Bend, but I got a phone number for a campsite that was in the nearby city of Terlingua, right outside of the park. We found a payphone and called the lady who ran the campsite. They had only one site available for that night, so we gave them our names and finally had a sure place to sleep. By that time, it was about 10:30 and we were itching to get on the trail to summit the highest peak in Big Bend.

About 4 miles in.

The out-and-back trail is just shy of 12 miles round-trip. After a few hours of brutal uphill trekking, Ben and I got to a false summit under a blazing midday sun. The very last section of the trail takes a sudden, dramatic shift from hiking to full on climbing, if you want to reach the very top of Emory Mountain. I navigated up the big rock pile and I was amazed by the view that I found at the peak. You could see the whole entire park from canyon to canyon. No picture could do it justice. I met a Swedish couple up there that were vacationing in America for the winter. They told me it was -20 degrees at their home right now, so they had decided to head southwest, where it was sunny and warm. I didn't blame them.

Looking up at the last leg of the climb and the peak, where those antennae are.

The view of the Chisos Basin from the top of Emory Peak. Emory Peak is at 7,825 feet above sea level, and although it is about a grand shorter than Guadalupe, the tallest peak in Texas, it is the most prominent peak in Texas, with a vertical elevation change of 4,485 feet.

I met back up with Ben on the trail and we headed back down, beat up and exhausted. At that point in time, our only focus was just put one foot in front of the other and get down the mountain, where we could eat and drink some much needed food and water. We got back to the car around 4 o clock and left the busy headquarters, headed to Terlingua. Although Ben was not feeling too well after the hike, we were both proud of what we had accomplished in that short amount of time.

We left Big Bend that afternoon and set up camp on top of a hill at Topanga Campgrounds in Terlingua, TX, a privately owned community campsite. We ate a mountain house meal of chili mac with beans, which revitalized our tired bodies. A group of 3 were at the site next to us and were struggling to start a campfire in the wind, so I went over to offer my help. After I got the fire started, we hung out with them and chatted about their jobs and our school.

The view from where we set up our tent was amazing. A colorful sunset was framed by the distant peaks of the Chisos. The wind was gusting around 25-30 miles per hour as we were setting up our tent on the ridge, and as we climbed in for the night, I had a feeling that it would not get any quieter.

Day 3, tomorrow.