After I left Austin, I headed toward Phoenix to meet up with family. I had three days to get there. The highway speed limit in Texas is 80 mph, but Texas is also the 2nd largest state, so it was going to take a couple days to get across. Mostly I needed to figure out where I was going to find a safe sleep.
I felt great driving. Thanks to great Austin radio stations, I had built up my road trip playlist on Spotify and was bopping along pretty well. I drove through Texas wine country (did you know that was a thing? I didn't) and found a Natural Foods Co-op somewhere past Fredericksburg. I napped at a rest stop, and Googled the options ahead. Something called "Caverns of Sonora" caught my eye. I headed there.
Caverns of Sonora is a lot like Cave of the Mounds in Blue Mounds, Wisconsin. While the land above the caves is very different, underground they are similar. Both are "show caves", featuring impressive natural limestone cave formations with mineral deposits and guided tours for visitors. While I was not interested in caving, I figured the attached RV park might work for overnight accommodations. I was right.
Thanks to it being a Tuesday and off-season, I was only the 2nd vehicle in their campground - which is just how I like it. There was an overnight host (good for safety) and both electrical and water at every site. I chose a pretty spot among cedar trees, had dinner and went for a walk. I was ready to start into a book when I remembered my Moms Demand Action Zoom meeting in a half hour! Whoops! One thing this campground definitely did not have was wi-fi. So I drove 9 miles east to the town of Sonora, and asked politely at the Motel 6 if I could use their wi-fi. The 60-something desk attendant looked at me like I was crazy, but said she guessed it would be OK as long as I connected from my car. Such is life on the road.
My meeting went great - and it was good to see my Moms Demand Action friends. Their dedication and hard work was proving helpful in the upcoming election and I was proud of them. (We are working together to reduce gun violence. To join a Moms Demand Action chapter near you, go to www.momsdemandaction.org.)
The next day I woke up early, made coffee and charged up my Bluetti, reading while I waited for it to reach 100%. Down the road I found a nice public library and updated the blog. (The librarian looked an awful lot like the Motel 6 attendant. Sisters? I didn't ask.)
Driving west on Hwy 10 across Texas, I couldn't figure out where I wanted to stay next. I pulled over for salad around 5pm at a shady off-ramp oasis. (I was very glad to have a portable fridge with me. Easy meals.) I decided to head to Hueco Tanks State Park, even though I'd be arriving after closing. At Wisconsin parks you can pull in after hours and self register by leaving a check in an envelope at a drop box by the entrance.
I arrived at Hueco Tanks State Park and Historic Site around 7pm. There was a gate, and it was closed. But there was a white camper van in front of the gate. I pulled over and watched for a bit. A guy hopped out of the van and opened the gate. As he got back in his van he just sat there. So I pulled around him and yelled "Thanks!" out my window. He said something like "Do you have a ..." and I said "Yes, I just arrived a little later than expected!" and kept driving.
Oops. Liar? (Naw. We don't know what he was going to ask.)
I was enthralled by the cool shape of the mountains - and took pictures and a sunset video before going into the campground area through another gate. It was unlocked. I swung it open, drove through, and put it back in place.
It was a pretty and private campground, with lots of Texas scrub and trees between sites. I looked for a place to fill out a reservation card, but couldn't find one. The campsites were all full, but there looked to be an overflow area - a level, gravel, pull-off spot with room for at least 5 cars. No other cars were there. Yay privacy! I pulled in and set up, figuring the next morning I'd find the self-registration box or just go to HQ and pay my fee.
The next morning, though, as I walked back from the restroom at 7:30 a.m., a male ranger in a white truck pulled up beside me. "Is that your Subaru?" he asked sternly. I said it was, and explained that I was on my way to pay the campground fee since I couldn't find the drop box the night before. He asked me/lectured me - how did I get in through the locked gate, did I know I was trespassing, and could I follow him down to headquarters? He told me that they may have to call the police. "This park strictly controls access and the gate closes at 6pm sharp. My guy who did rounds last night didn't see your vehicle after closing...how did you get in?" I didn't want to give up the guy in the white camper van, so I was in a bit of a pickle. I simply said that I had found all gates unlocked, and had let myself in thinking this park was similar to campgrounds I was used to where you could self register. "Well, you didn't register and that's trespassing." He said they would "decide what to do with me" down at headquarters. Yikes.
Now, I'm a rule follower, but this was a bit much. I felt chastened by his rebuke. I didn't like feeling chastened. But I also didn't want to see the inside of a Texas jail cell or pay what I was sure would be a hefty fine. At HQ I tried to look contrite. Another ranger, this one female, gave me the same speech as the first, but looked even more severe. She repeated the same threats. I apologized and promised it wouldn't happen again. (Surely Texas law enforcement has better things to do, right?)
In the end, she charged me $23 for the previous nights' stay and I was a free woman. And my new and official campground pass allowed me to stay in the park until noon, as long as I checked out when I left for the day. (You better believe I checked out at 11:59 exactly!) I took my first breath of the day and set out to look around.
I was directed to start my park visit the way every guest does - by watching a required 11-minute video about the history and ecology of the park. These low mountains are unique. Huecos (Spanish for "hollows") in the rock formations mean water and microhabitats can survive in this location in the middle of the Chihuahuan Desert, making this a site that has been visited by humans across the ages. After a brief chat with the friendly ranger in the Educational Center, I set out to investigate what made this park worthy of such tight surveillance.
And you know what? I am glad it is so closely guarded. I had one of the best hikes of my life. Only 70 people are permitted hiking passes daily, and I felt lucky to be one of them. I went on a self-guided tour and looked at pictographs and petroglyphs. I scrambled up and over rocks, climbing to the top of the north mountain. With only a few groups of climbers in the area it was quiet and still and special. I meditated and did yoga and hiked even higher. Clearly this place was of special importance to humans over the ages - you could feel it, somehow.
I'm a little in my head about how to describe my experience there without sounding like an annoying white woman. I'll just say three words: Spiritual, calming, beautiful. The rest you'll have to discover for yourself. But for God's sake, register first, you HEATHEN!
Sojourn on!
Mom 😭😭😭😭