“If you spend enough time in the desert, you will hear it speak.”

—Nnedi Okorafo

WHAT’S GOOD

Farmers Market Highlights

Join us this Saturday, April 4th, 9 AM - 1 PM, for our weekly Farmers Market at Charis Park. This weekend features local artists and a native edible & medicinal plant sale. One Another Coffee will be serving up new seasonal sips all morning from 8 AM - 1 PM.

What the Desert Teaches

Amy Lynn Johnson, Communications Manager, Sunset Ridge Collective

My car broke down in the desert once. I was on a West Texas road trip with my dad who’d never visited the area despite being born and raised in the Lone Star State. We were staying in a converted gas station in Marfa back in October 2021. I drove him up to the McDonald Observatory in the Davis Mountains on our first night and we marvelled at the stars in one of the darkest skies in North America.

The next day we headed out to Big Bend National Park. We stopped by the visitor center and got some tips from a ranger on spots to see: the basin window and Santa Elena Canyon. After asking what kind of car we were driving (an SUV), he told us we could take Old Maverick Road for a better view and to save time on our way out of Santa Elena. We were looking at a full 6 ½ hours in the car that day, including the two hours we’d already driven to get to the park. My dad had limited mobility, so there wasn’t any big hiking for us.

*My dad at the beginning of our adventure into Big Bend*

For those who’ve never travelled to this far corner of Texas, it takes effort to travel, let alone live out here. Brewster County is the largest county in Texas—over 6,000 square miles and home to less than 10,000 people. (Bexar County is a meager 1,256 square miles in comparison.) There are long stretches of nothing but sky and mountains and desert to be seen—and where no signal is to be had.

With all that said, it’s one of the most beautiful places on Earth to visit—especially Big Bend National Park.

My dad and I made our way to the iconic window in the basin at the center of the park first. We took in the view, snapped some pictures, and got back in the car for the drive down to Santa Elena Canyon. It’s one of the most visited parts of the park—a natural canyon with the Rio Grande flowing through it, with parts of the trail and river reaching over into the Mexico side.

We just walked far enough to enjoy the bank of the river and catch a glimpse of the canyon. Still incredibly beautiful—and remote. The day was getting on and we still had a ways to get back to Marfa for the night. We made our way to Old Maverick Road at about 3:45 in the afternoon.

It wasn’t long before we realized taking that unimproved road was a big mistake. It was gentle at first, but as we crept our way along, the dashboard in my car shook for dear life. The check battery light came on at one point. We got out and looked at everything, but I knew we had to get ourselves off this road and out of the park.

Thankfully we made it to the sole gas station in Terlingua and took a breather. We started to attempt the drive back to Marfa but when the electrical system started to blink at us, I turned back around. The car died in the gas station parking lot after 5pm on a weekday.

I miraculously got a hold of a home mechanic who not only said he could help us with my car, but he also offered to drive us all the way back to Marfa that night so my dad could take his daily medications.

We puttered around Marfa the last two days of our trip, waiting at the mercy of a stranger in the middle of nowhere. I was grateful that I wasn’t on a solo trip, or alone with my kids, and that my dad carried such calm when I could’ve completely freaked out about the situation.

Our Terlingua mechanic fixed our car, drove back out to pick us up and drove back town to Terlingua. We made it out of there on my dad’s birthday. We celebrated with McDonald’s in Alpine, and made it back to San Antonio at I don’t know what hour that night. It was the only one-on-one road trip I’ve been on with my dad, and it’s one we’ll never forget.

Just this month I went back for another solo trip to Big Bend. This time hiking down into the waters of Santa Elena, and back up to look through the window before the basin is closed for two years.

On my way out of the basin, I noticed a cyclist battling the uphill road and wondered how far he had biked from. Soon after I saw him fly by as I took in the view on the other side of the hill he’d pedaled and I drove up.

Back on the road, a car coming from the other direction stopped with its flashers. I thought they’d spotted some wildlife in the brush (it is black bear country!). Instead someone got out to pick up a water bottle on my side of the road. They got back in their car and inched up to my window. “Could you give this to that cyclist who just went by if you see him? We saw it fall and don’t want him to be without it.” There was no need to explain the importance of water out here. I agreed emphatically and hoped I’d find the cyclist before the road split.

I had to honk and wave the water bottle at him as I slowed down to pass him. I pulled over ahead and he pulled up to my window. “I thought I recognized that water bottle.” I told him about the driver who flagged me down for it. “Thanks—I would’ve been tough out of luck without it!” We laughed and smiled, and both went on our way.

There’s a generosity of help for your fellow human that happens out here in the desert. We appreciate how much smaller we are out here. And that expansiveness never fails in helping me breathe more deeply with gratitude for being alive.