The Consolations of Altitude

A Park Ranger – or he might be Border Patrol – is yelling at me. And he’s right to, because I have just done something stupid. I have pulled over to the shoulder of the narrow, tightly curving road that climbs several thousand feet to the Chisos Basin, deep within Big Bend National Park, an enormous expanse of jaw-dropping landscape along the Mexican border in southwest Texas. I’ve done this because I am frankly confused by what is happening outside my car.

I had woken to a crisp March morning, and had worn long sleeves and a jacket for my brief hike between the vertiginous walls of the Santa Elena Canyon, along the bank of a placid Rio Grande. As I went deeper into the park, the late morning sun intensified and the air became so clear that I could see patches of vibrant desert fauna on mountainsides far, far in the distance. Then I suddenly plunged into opaque whiteness. I could barely see the near side of the road, where the twisted arms of vegetation grew thick, glittering white coats seemingly before my eyes. I knew I shouldn’t stop, but all my flatlander’s highway experience was useless in this otherworldly landscape. I stepped out of the car into cold, damp mist, just in time for the Ranger to arrive and snap me out of it, happily before someone less familiar with this mountain mystery came speeding around the bend.

I apologize, restart the car, and soon the fog dissipates. Fifteen minutes later, the temperature is in the 60s, and the view from 5,000 feet above sea level is incomparable.

Big Bend is quite remote, about eight hours’ drive from Austin. Villa Terlingua comprises three guesthouses of different sizes, each lovingly built and uniquely decorated, perched on a hillside just west of the park. Terlingua itself is a scatter of unexpected metal sculptures, limestone ruins, a café (with WiFi and gluten-free options) and the Starlight Theatre, a former music hall, now an excellent restaurant and bar with a porch where locals and travelers alike gather to watch the stunning sunsets. The Villa’s owner, Cynta, is welcoming and generous with the wisdom of her years as a guide; it is only thanks to her advice that I experienced the canyon, the haunting climb into the mountains and a blissful hour's soak in a natural hot spring tucked into the bank of the Rio Grande in a single day.

Give yourself at least a few days to explore this unforgettable part of North America. Wear layers and sunblock. And don’t stop on the side of a mountain road!