We had sized up Big Bend by car, on foot, and on horseback. But on our final day, while rafting a 21-mile stretch of the Rio Grande through another of the Park's crown jewels, Santa Elena Canyon, we came to understand that the river is the surest way to the park's soul. We passed by flatlands thick with candelaria and between weathered walls of limestone and sandstone that rise up 1,500 feet on each side, looking oddly fragile, like papier-mâché stage sets. Turtles dozed on rocks, buzzards and peregrine falcons soared overhead, burros stared at us blankly from the riverbanks—all to the distinctive hum of nature.
Our guide, a bearded and ponytailed fellow, explained that under the shadows of those massive cliffs is an atmosphere so dry that nothing biodegrades. "You leave an orange peel here and come back in a couple hundred years and it'll just be a rock," he said. That sounded suspiciously like a Texas-size lie. Still, I liked the drift of what he was saying.
But I also knew that pollution drifting over the park from coal-fired power plants has changed the air quality in the last ten years. Big Bend is not L.A.; no one is wheezing here as they hike along the trails. On some days, though, it's not hard to spot the blanket of haze that settles over the valleys from the higher elevations. Despite this modern intrusion, the rocks and water that make up this lovely natural museum are all pretty much as they were back when the Spanish, the Mexicans, and the Apaches came and went from here. I hoped they always would be.
After a lunch of cold cuts, we plowed through a stretch of water known as the Rockslide, so named because some time back several massive chunks of the cliff face fell into the river, creating an imposing gauntlet. We squirmed and squished the raft through the rocks until, late in the afternoon and not too far from home base, we finally met our match: a passage so narrow that the boat simply couldn't fit. We had no choice but to hop into the chilly water and give the thing a shove. It was not the most comfortable way to end a trip, but it reminded us of what may be the best reason to keep coming back to Big Bend: It humbles you in all the right ways. And that's no lie.
STAYING THERE
Big Bend is a big place, so bed down in different parts of the park for a couple of days at a time to sample its pleasures more easily.
Best cowboy hotel: Spend a day or two at the Gage Hotel, a charming restoration in the equally charming little town of Marathon, 70 miles north of Big Bend National Park. It's a convenient base from which to visit the towns of Alpine, Marfa, and Fort Davis, as well as the Davis Mountains and the McDonald Observatory. And the roomiest suite here is only $175. (915-386-4205)
Best rooms close to the park: You can choose from a handful of motels, including the Big Bend Motor Inn, in Terlingua, an exemplar of that dying breed of mom-and-pop motels with rooms for $65, clean sheets, and a restaurant, gift shop, and gas station all in one. About 20 miles farther west, the Lajitas Resort, in the small town of the same name, has large double rooms from $115. Big Bend Motor Inn (915-371-2218). Lajitas Resort (915-424-3471).
Room with a view: If you want to move all the way into the park, the Chisos Mountains Lodge has a beautiful setting, but the rooms (from $75) are pedestrian. Still, you must book months in advance. (915-477-2291)
Sheer luxury: You're supposed to be roughing it, but if you must stay in grand style, Cibolo Creek Ranch, 65 miles from the entrance to Big Bend, is hard to beat. It sits in the middle of 40,000 acres, and guest rooms (from $450 including dinner) are straight out of Architectural Digest. (866-496-4960)
Best carbo load: The grilled cheese sandwich at the Fort Davis Drugstore, in the town of the same name, comes with Cheddar and Jack and is served on wheat toast. It's especially tasty if dipped in their house ketchup or hot sauce. Or try a doughnut from Shirley's Burnt Biscuit Bakery, on the main drag in Marathon. I ate one that lasted me through the first five miles of the morning's hike. Fort Davis Drugstore (915-426-3118). Shirley's Burnt Biscuit Bakery (915-386-9020).
Best overload: Somehow the folks at Reata, in Alpine, have figured out a way to whip up a chicken-fried steak that doesn't make you feel as if you've swallowed an anvil. Reata has plain old grilled steak, too, plus regional inventions like tenderloin tamales with cilantro-pecan mash, and lighter fare like filet-wrapped asparagus. (915-837-9232)
Best cowboy food: The bacon-wrapped roast quail with hearty mashed potatoes at Cafe Cenizo (the restaurant of the Gage Hotel, right next door in Marathon) is so spectacular that you might not be able to speak—literally—until you've finished the whole bird. Or just have a regular roasted steak. (915-386-4434)
Best cowboy-watching: Over at the Starlight Theatre Restaurant in the "ghost town" sector of Terlingua, the bar, in a converted movie house, is peopled by ranch hands, river guides, and desert slackers, none of whom seem to have noticed that they've been playing the same loop of Jerry Jeff Walker tunes since 1991. The menu has broadened beyond southwestern since new owners took over a few months ago, but you can still find dishes such as pan-blackened salmon with black-bean ensalada, and beef tenders with chile butter. (915-371-2326)
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