dirtbagging: part 3/3

"Its not an adventure until something goes wrong."

-Yvon Chouinard, climber and Patagonia Inc. founder

By Greyson Gilbert

The last article left us in a tent while an oncoming storm system hit Terlingua, Texas. Although the wind had kind of died down around 10 p.m., it had seriously picked up since then and woke me up at around 1 in the morning. I was glad that I had tied down the tent well enough to hold up to the 40 mph gusts, but the sheer noise made by the wind and dirt billows were too loud to get any sleep.

I laid awake thinking about our trip and figuring out what the plan for the next day was. I finally fell back asleep at around 3 and woke up again at 5. I figured that was the last shuteye I was going to get for the night, so I got up and read a little bit. I was reminded that when you step out and take a trip like this, you can't expect it to always to be easy or comfortable. Obviously it could have been worse - like, a lot worse - but our second night did serve as a humbling reminder that nature is unpredictable and that we were at her mercy.

Our plan for the third day was to drive 6 hours to White Sands National Monument in Alamogordo, New Mexico, where we would board, hang out, and sleep under the stars, surrounded by looming sand dunes. I checked the weather where we were going and it had been raining there all morning with steady 25 mph winds, and it looked like it wasn't going to get any better as the day went on.

Ben and I discussed our options over some warm coffee and decided that it was best to stay out of the weather system that had completely covered the state of New Mexico. After some debate, and realizing how badly I wanted to break out the snowboard on some sand dunes, we decided on going to Monahans Sandhills State Park, about 4 hours north of where we were at. I had a couple buddies who had gone and I felt it was adequate consolation for our bad luck with the weather.

On the drive to Monahans we pulled over to check out a herd of donkeys and horses on the side of the rode and spoke briefly with a worker who had pulled over also to get a picture. He told us how a guy he knew had died when he hit a horse with his car at that very intersection. Theres no end to the interesting sights you'll see driving in the middle of nowhere west Texas.

We arrived at our destination at about noon. The soft dunes were a refreshing change from the rocky, harsh environment we had left in the mountains. We took our time at Monahans, walking to the top of the Sandhills and riding short spurts down to the bottom with the snowboard. In sand, the board tends to sink and get stuck if you’re not moving too fast, and with the increased friction (compared to snow) it’s pretty hard to get and stay going downhill, but it was still a blast.

 We found about the steepest dune in the park and laughed together as I struggled at first to get momentum, continually wiping out. I missed out on going snowboarding this year so I guess sand boarding had to suffice. It was a heck of a time, and hopefully not my last opportunity to do it.

That afternoon, we ate chicken and rice and beans on the tailgate and tried to figure out where we were going to sleep. Monahans’ camping areas were full, so we called Devils River State Natural Area, Seminole Canyon State Park, and a few other campsites in West Texas that would be worth the stay.
Every single park was completely booked.

Because of our lack of preparation and lack of awareness of how many people wanted to camp throughout Texas, we were left wandering without a plan. As we looked back on the past couple of days, however, there was no regrets.

We swam in the Rio Grande.

We conquered a mountain.

We carved some sand dunes.

We slept under the stars.

We met some incredible people.

We had accomplished everything that we wanted to do. Our trip, although we reluctantly determined that the best option was to head home a day early, had been fulfilling beyond our wildest expectations.

Ben

Me

__________________________________________________________

Photos