this shot is level. That is the incline on the big rock.
I needed a change of scenery. I made a reservation last week, got up super early and headed due west to Fredericksburg, Texas where I took a left onto a rural highway and eventually drove through the front gates of Enchanted Rock State Natural Area. I grabbed my backpack, my wide brimmed hat and a paper map of the park and got moving.
Enchanted Rock is the largest granite rock in the continental united states and peaks at 1800+ feet above sea level. Lots of people climb the rock via the Summit Trail and it can be a tough climb in hot weather but at least the trail goes straight up the tamest side. The rock soaks up heat from the sun with a brutal efficiency. And the climb is a steep angle. Best to do your climb in the early part of the morning.
For my traditional climb to the summit I took along a Panasonic S1R camera with the Lumix 24-70mm f2.8. Seemed the right mix of focal lengths and the right kind of resolution. My backpack had two insulated water bottles, the map, some hand sanitizer, a small first aid kit, a German Army knife, an extra bandana and my phone. Oh, and a tube of sunscreen. Which I used. Liberally.
I've climbed the rock many times before but I have to confess that I trudged up a bit slower this time and was a little winded at the top. When I was twenty I could have run up it in a flat out sprint. In fact, I think I did that once or twice in the company of a very competitive friend. At 64 a nice, steady pace seemed like the ticket.
When I got to the top I sat down in the shadow of a big boulder and meditated about life and the interesting times that we now find ourselves in. So much has changed so quickly. I thought I'd be banging out photos for corporate clients for a few more years and then I'd throw in the towel and leave on a high note. But I think that high note might already have been sung. We'll see. Either way fate pushes the plot I'll be fine with it. One seems always convinced that they are in control of their own destiny until something comes along to remind you that you continue to exist by the grace of nature and chance. On the other hand you only get one shot at being alive so it's best to focus on enjoying what's in the moment. "Be mindful of the future, but not at the expense of the moment." -Star Wars: the Phantom Menace.
I wanted to spend time in this particular park today for a selfish reason. It's also why I came alone. To be honest I always think that I'm fighting off the inevitable process of aging when I'm swimming hard in the pool. But now that there is no pool I often find myself worrying that I'm getting soft, letting myself go. Giving into inertia and entropy and slowly shuffling toward a physical decline that seems always to be lurking; waiting in the shadows, ready to slow you down and tire you out.
My intention at Enchanted Rock was to start with a baseline jaunt up the big rock and then descend on the south side through a challenging field of huge boulders and loose granite. Halfway through my descent, off the beaten path but through a boulder field I'd traversed a couple of decades ago, I had a moment of genuine fear. I had to jump a gap between boulders and land on a small spot. Fear riveted me and I paused. Then I took off my backpack and packed my camera down into it. That was the only way I felt I could make the scramble. I needed both hands free in case I had to grab onto the rock to keep from falling. The camera swinging in front of me on the strap was throwing off my balance.
I made the climb down by the skin of my teeth--- but I made it. I would have felt really stupid if I'd have fucked up and crashed but since I was the only one in that more remote area no one would have seen an embarrassing (and dangerous) fall. Not my smartest bit of logistics but I survived and having replicated a descend that was challenging for me 20 or 25 years ago brought a smile to my face; under my face mask. I could still move. My balance isn't gone yet.
I spent most of the morning, from 9 to noon, exploring and doing non-technical rock climbs in other boulder fields in between two of the bigger rock domes. Then it was time for lunch. I shot a lot of stuff with the S1R and 24-70mm but damn, it's heavy stuff. I headed back to the car to grab my lunch and to find a picnic table in the shade. I had a peanut butter (salted, crunchy) and black berry jam sandwich on sourdough bread, with a water chaser. Then I pulled the map of the area out of my pack and planned out my afternoon. Where the morning was about challenging myself on the rocks the afternoon was about an endurance walk.
There is a Loop Trail called... the Loop Trail that rings the entire park. It's a little under five miles but it's got lots and lots of steep elevations and descents, it's a primitive trail and it's annoyingly poorly marked in a number of places. I had one full bottle of water left in my pack and I also switched out cameras. I left the S1R in the car and took the Sigma fp with the Zeiss 50mm out for a spin. It's lighter.
I slathered on sunscreen, memorized the curves and cutbacks on the map and then headed out. Some of the trail intersects with smooth, angled granite fields and it's easy to miss the continuing trail on the other side of a 200 meter run of rock. Most of the trail is dry clay or gravel but parts just disappear and you have to survey the 180 degrees in front of you in order to pick out where it continues. Every 100 steps or so I stop just to listen to my surroundings without the crunching sound of gravel beneath my feet.
At one point, about half way around the trail and up on a little granite hill I stopped suddenly to listen and heard a distinct rattle. I stayed motionless and watched as a six footer slithered out of the grass, across the trail about 15 feet in front of me, and into the rocks on the other side. I watched it move away but I stayed still and waited because sometimes (many times) rattlesnakes travel in pairs. I scanned the grass with intensity and then, wavering a bit from the heat of the direct sun, I moved forward on the trail trying to keep my foot falls as soft as I could. No sense attracting attention.
The park threw me a bit of a curve ball today. I'd gone nearly 80% of way around when I hit an actual roadblock and a sign that the end part of the trail was closed right now and I'd need to detour back to Turkey Pass Trail and then follow it to Front Side Trail. The clear sky meant the sun was warming up the afternoon quickly and I'd made a bad calculation about the amount of water I needed to carry in. After all, it's a series of primitive trails with no amenities. No restrooms. No water.
The detour added nearly two miles and required me to scramble back over some of the steeper parts of the trail that I'd just come through. I'm happy I had a map and a compass with me... A bit more water would have been nice too.
I found some shade on the edge of a granite ledge and decided to take a break and savor the last few ounces of water in my bottle. I was about to take off my pack and sit down when I heard another rattle just a few feet into the brush line. I decided to back away slowly, across the granite ledge, and find somewhere else to sip water. I didn't have snake bite kit with me and I didn't know exactly how far I'd have to go if nature tossed me a bad hand.
Half an hour and a bit of sweat later I walked out of the primitive trails and back onto the main Summit Trail. I'd made it back to the start. I walked over to my car, tossed in the camera and back pack, took off my straw hat and sat on the open tailgate taking stock of my situation. My life. And, in that moment of honest reflection I decided that I was pretty damn happy and satisfied. It's fun being a photographer but I no longer needed to define myself by my job. I'm getting older but I can still knock out a physical adventure at pace. I can still make it up a big dome of pink granite ahead of a lot of people less than half my....level of experience.
But what I really needed just in the moment, after reflecting that life is still exciting and fun and happy for me, was something cool and refreshing to drink. I headed back toward Fredericksburg, Texas and did something I'd never get away with if my friends or family were with me... I headed to the McDonalds and got a large Coca-Cola from the drive thru. Crushed ice, sugar and phosphoric acid never tasted so good!!!
As I headed back to Austin at the end of a tiring but life affirming day I pulled the Joni Mitchell CD out of the car's player and stuck in the "Best of Cream." Eric Clapton got so much just right. "I Feel Free" and a big Coke. What more could a sweaty rock climber want?
the rock face across the way looks so close but it's hundreds and hundreds of yards away...
that particular boulder is at least twice as tall as me.
man in blue shirt included for scale.
That's the incline. It gets to you after a while. Going up or down...
this part is the crappiest part of the trail. Too much sand and gravel. Nothing solid.
Keens makes great hiking shoes. Love them. Have two pair which I rotate.
This is the new pair.
Have fun out in real life. Don't put stuff off.
22 comments:
"and having replicated a descend that was challenging for me 20 or 25 years ago brought a smile to my face; under my face mask."
Seriously? You're out in the middle of nowhere and you're wearing a face mask? Sometimes I can't tell if you're being truthful or just teasing us. I admit it, I'm a literalist and don't really get satire. You're awesome and I'm glad you had a good time and came back in one piece.
Great read. Great photos.
Brilliant bit of writing.
On a few arty points.
1) you should always shoot in square format (not really, but the format really suits you)
2) Buddhist wisdom co-opted by Star Wars and everyone else. My favourite paraphrasing of it is in Leonard Cohen's song Anthem "The birds they sing, at the break of day, start again I seem to hear them say, do not dwell, on what has passed away, or what is yet to be."
Later in the song is also the wonderful line (which named the Hay on Wye fringe philosophy and music Festival around here That has gone online at the end of the month)
" Ring the bells that still can ring.
Forget your perfect offering, there is a crack, a crack in everything. That's How the light gets in."
And lastly...
3)your fellow texan Annie Clark (stage name St vincent) - wrote a song about encountering a rattlesnake. Called Rattlesnake. Well worth checking out.
Top writing and lovely photos!
Mark
Very cool. I've lived in Texas 30 + years but I've never been to this location. It sounds like a spot worth visiting in the winter - cooler temperatures and no snakes!
So what did we learn?
From your story, hardship came once as you were going downhill. But you packed up your camera and persevere through, getting back on yoir feet.
Then two major seperate scares came that full stoped you and needed you to tread lightly. But they passed and you could move on back to home and enjoy lifes pleasures.
So where are we at? The downhill hardship, or did that pass in 2009?
Are we at the fisrt scare to stop us?
So we may have one more big scare ahead of us. But we will enjoy lifes pleasures in the future.
You don't do adventure mildly, Mr. Tuck. A great read. Two cameras mentioned, but that was just decoration to a much deeper story. Keens pictured, my favorite all time sandals and adventure shoes. Rattlesnakes are no joke, glad you have the experience to recognize and navigate that particular danger. Next adventure I'm betting that big Panny gets left at home.
Great adventure and writing! But why not take the kid with you?
I'm too slow for the kid. I'd just hold him up. Alone time is good too.
A very nicely written post. Sounds like a great day. Hiking is wonderful, snakes not so much. I can relate to the fear of physical atrophy that aging thrusts upon all of us. I absolutely hated turning 50. I realize now that I spent my 47th year to my 50th year being miserable about it and mourning my lost youth. I'm 52 now and I'm over it. I may not move on a tennis court the way I used to at 21, but I can still play hard and play well. I miss it dearly though as you miss swimming. Maybe soon?
Well, I for one have not slowed down. That's because I was always slow.
Wow I would love to spend a day crawling around those rocks! I bet it's really interesting at dusk and twilight as well. That dome looks like some crashed space ship trying to break it's earthly bonds. Loved your account of running into snakes. When I was a kid in South Dakota we use to catch rattlers and sell them to the tourist traps.
The part of hiking I enjoy the most are the quiet times I spend with myself and nature. I still like to pound it out but getting to the top or beating my last time has now taken second place in my priorities. That being said I'm in the best shape I have been in the past 25 years.
Of the selection of images you shared with us, which one is deserving of a print?
Oh one more thing. LOSE THE WHITE SOCKS!
Eric
Bully! Loved looking at the photos of the slab. As a sometimes-hiker here in the Adirondacks, I loved vicariously going on the outdoor adventure as ours are still on hold partly due to the fact the weather has been lousy and it might snow tomorrow. Glad to hear I'm not the only one who has outdoor adventures that don't always go precisely as planned ...
Not sure about the snakes though. Not a threat I'm attuned to. Even though we do have a few timber rattlesnakes around here encounters are rare so I don't have the danger signals built up in the brain.
And you know, I thought I'd always shoot Pictures-For-Money in some way long into my later years. Barely entering the older-years slope of life now, the possibility exists that that plan may not happen and I have to get my first actual job of my working life.
Maybe I need to head outdoors today to allow those thoughts to bubble in the cool before the storm that's coming. Thanks for the inspiration.
Hi Kirk,
Sounds like a fun hike. As a biologist who sometimes works with and around snakes, I would like to clarify a few of your comments.
1. I don't know of any evidence that rattlesnakes travel in pairs. They will gather in winter dens, and of course must come into contact during mating, but other than that any close grouping would be incidental.
2. It makes no sense to tiptoe around snakes if your goal is avoidance. Snakes don't hear like we do, but instead sense vibrations through the ground. This helps them detect prey and also avoid large potentially dangerous creatures they don't want to mess with (e.g., bison and you). So if you don't want to see snakes, stomp to your heart's content. As a bonus, that rattlesnake you don't want to encounter will sense you from a greater distance, start to rattle sooner, and let you know to avoid it before you get close. No snake is interested in a close encounter with a large creature that it can't eat. Most will retreat without you ever knowing they were there.
3. The value of commercial snakebite kits is questionable. Since you brought it up, perhaps you have done your research and formed your own opinion, so I will only say that the biologists I know who work directly with venomous snakes don't use them and instead rely on traditional snakebite first aid methods and recommendations from organizations like the Red Cross.
To add just a bit more information for anyone wanting to avoid (rattle)snakes. Snakes are cold-blooded, meaning they rely on their environment to help them gain or lose heat. In the morning you will find them in areas exposed to the warming sun, such as south- or east-facing rocky ledges, especially if the night was cool. In the hot afternoon, they will probably retreat to more shaded locations. Regardless, don't place your hands or feet in locations that you can't see, and definitely don't try to pick up any snake without proper tools and training.
ASW, All great advice! My first aid concerning rattlesnake bites comes from a 1960's Boy Scout manual. I'll be cutting an "X" on the bite site and sucking out as much poison as I can then binding the wound with an ice pack, if I have one. My good friend Henry White talked to me about this yesterday. I told him I was a bit embarrassed because I left my knife back at the car. He suggested that I could break the front element of my Zeiss lens and use the shards to administer my primitive first aid. But he cautioned me to first use the lens as a magnifying glass to start a small but very smoky fire suggesting that the smoke would be the most effective way to bring the park rangers precisely to my location the quickest... Henry White is always full of great advice but rarely around when you really need him...
Would your experience with the snakes be typical of a day's visit to the park do you think? Are there a lot of them ?
Nice to see you went to "ERock". Been there many times and I recognize all the photos. Plus, I have always enjoyed the big loop trail. Glad you revisited ERock, listened to the important clues, and mused on how time moves on.
HI Patrick, I'll defer to more knowledgeable people but in general I'd say "no" and then follow it up with "it's also seasonal." In the most used area the people traffic probably dissuades the snakes from hanging around. We did a fashion shoot at Enchanted Rock for a magazine back in 1994 and it seemed like we saw many more back then. I'm guessing the further off the marked trails you get the more likely you are to say "hi" to one. On top of the rocks in the mornings and under the rocks in the heat of the day. Just watch where you put your hands when climbing...
Kirk,
That is a great idea that Henry has about using the front lens element if you don't have a knife. I'm assuming he said if you have a choice of lens always use the Zeiss since they are so sharp.
Fred
Fred, once again you have nailed it! Henry White also mentioned that Zeiss glass is so "clean" that you'll never get an infection...
Kirk, smart man that Henry. Remind me to buy him a drink when I see him next and tell him about the time I spent as a rattlesnake wrangler for a gun dog trainer when I lived in Tucson 25 years ago (true story.)
Fred
I'm glad you had a great time. Enchanted Rock seems like way to much nature for a city boy like me.
Nice, Kirk. Who knew Texas had a granite dome, other than Texans? Take away a sizable fraction of the oxygen and this one would look right at home in the high Sierra (the most famous being Yosemite's Half Dome).
I'm informed by geos that the erosion pattern you show is called exfoliation, and not the kind people pay for in spas. The granite forms in layers, like an onion, and erodes away layer by layer. If it were farther north I'd guess the ginormous boulders plopped on the granite plain are glacial erratics, but that far south? I don't know whether the ice sheets made it to Texas, so maybe just shed from above as part of the erosion process.
Folks may focus [sorry] on the rattler but adequate water is usually the prime concern on hot, long, outdoor days. Time to get ready for summer, we're nearly at 100 ourselves, today. Nobody asked me, I'd be happy to put triple digits off 'til July.
Take care!
p.s. Agree on Keens, they make some great shoes, and bombproof. I've been to their Portland flagship retail store and was tickled by the sandal vending machine out front, by the entrance. Portland will give Austin a run for the weird and whimsical title, believe me.
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