T
he world is made of nooks and
crannies. Traveling the broad
rivers of concrete, to and fro,
day to day, it’s easy to forget that the
majority of real estate is still devoid of
homes, offices, identical stores and
manmade objects. We wear channels
through the world with our feet and
wheels, but outside the familiar paths
there are different patterns worn by
wind and water; there are living histo-
ries and vibrant traditions still being
written. When your family is young,
it’s all the more important to show
your children that the world is more
than an endless repetition of macadam
and manicured parks.
When I was young in New England,
we used to explore the New
Hampshire woods and streams. I loved
the old stone walls that crisscrossed the
forests—reminders of the old farms
now covered by young growth. It
made me think of the settlers who built
them two and three centuries before,
clearing the old-growth trees by hand,
ploughing rocky soil, piling the stones
to mark their fields. I still love to find
traces of long-vanished footprints, and
the Trans-Pecos is full of them, human
and geologic. Now that I have my own
children, I think a lot about the places
I want to show them, the landscapes
that will shape and inform their con-
cepts of history and the earth.
I often tell visitors to go see Ernst
Tinaja. It’s a familiar conversation: I
say the name, and they struggle to
wrap the unfamiliar words into a pack-
age that will mean something to them.
I write it down, then explain that a
tinaja is a naturally-occurring hole
eroded into rock by the swirling eddies
of passing water. Ernst Tinaja is an
arroyo, a watercourse that remains dry
in the absence of rain. When it rains,
the local topography funnels the water
to create a temporary river (or, for
those from less arid climates, a creek).
Sometimes the water hits a bump. The
bump makes the water swirl. The
swirl, over time, erodes the limestone,
creating a bigger bump. Eventually, a
hollow place is carved out of the bed of
the arroyo, which holds water when it
rains, a precious rarity in the
Chihuahuan desert, and an important
ecological boon for plants, animals and
humans.
Ernst Tinaja is not so much a trail in
Big Bend National Park as it is a pleas-
ant scramble up the arroyo (check the
weather forecast first, lest a distant
storm place you in danger of a flash
flood). The walls of the wide, shallow
canyon are strongly layered bands of
cherty limestone and sandstone, mark-
ing the ebb and flow of ancient oceans.
The crazed hump and tilt of these
bands are a remembrance of tectonic
plates beneath our feet, slow behe-
moths floating like bumper boats on a
sea of magma. The power of the quiet
earth is such that massive sheets of
stone buck and ripple. Purple and red
sandstone swirls reveal fossils every-
where, to the most casual observer.
Whole cliffs of swallows’ nests are rem-
iniscent of stone-age cities. It is surreal.
Timeless. Forty minutes or so from
Panther Junction.
For me it’s a perfect place to bring
children, because there are few places
I’ve been where geologic time and the
awesome forces of earth movement are
laid so plainly bare to the naked eye.
It’s one thing to explain to a little one
about eons and extinctions and the
powers that make and destroy moun-
tains; it’s quite another to be able to
point to a stripe of rock, wiggling crazi-
ly, and explain that the space between
it and the one below it is a million
years or an ice age or the receding of a
great inland sea.
Not very far to the west of Ernst
Tinaja lies the Chisos Basin, and there
near the lodge is the Lost Mine Trail.
For older children, capable of a some-
times-challenging day hike, the Lost
Mine offers mystery, education and
sweeping vistas of the desert. The hike
takes its name from Lost Mine Peak,
which in turn is so called because of the
legend of a secret mine whose location
was lost when the workers were all
killed by Comanche. Many have
sought the treasure, but it has yet to be
found. The hike is about five miles
long, and the way up to the top can be
a challenge; but the walk back to the
car is delightfully downhill, and the
views of Juniper Canyon and the sur-
rounding peaks and forests of the
Chisos are well worth the effort.
There is a trail guide available at the
continued on page 24
THE BEER FROM OUT HERE
Cenizo
Third Quarter 2016
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