Oh Dark Thirty

If you are a Weckerly you always leave for your trip at Oh Dark Thirty!!! And we did.

"We will get to Chisos Mountain Lodge at Big Bend and hopefully check in by 2 PM, and then head to the McDonald Observatory," we reasoned. We had 7 PM reservations to the "Star Party" on our first night there. Previously, I had not been able to secure tickets, but put our names on the waiting list. And I felt so excited when we received the email saying we could actually get tickets. You don't know how long I have wanted to go to the observatory and see the stars!

So off we went! We were on the road by 5 AM. (That's Oh Dark Thirty for you Weckerlys!)

You'll need to be aware of the distance we planned to cover. Google maps said that San Marcos to Chisos Mountain Lodge was seven and a half hours. Then it is another two and a half or three hours from there to the McDonald Observatory near Ft. Davis, Texas, making the one-way total 621 miles by 7 PM.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

It took us until 1 PM to reach the entrance to Chisos lodge. We were so proud of ourselves for arriving earlier than planned. And then guess what? What always happens on road trips? 

Construction! The road up to the lodge was closed for repair! Closed every weekday from 8 to 11 AM and 1 to 3 PM. Every day of our stay! Closed!

(That information would have been helpful to know in advance.)

We missed the opening of the road by one minute. No kidding. At 12:59 PM the flagman waved us off and we had to wait two hours for the road to re-open. If I had not stopped for this photo we would have made the time cut off.

Big Bend Mountains in Big Bend Nat'l Park, Texas

Yep! We got up two hours early in order to wait two hours for road construction. . . . (I digress.) 

Pretty picture anyway!

Panther Junction is the name of the ranger station three miles from the construction. Aptly named because I saw one the morning we left. (But I'm getting ahead of myself.) We visited the post office there, walked through the botanical garden twice, and purchased postcards at the outdoor gift shop. I had time to write a few cards and mail them.

And we weren't alone. Others who had missed the two-hour open road window were hanging around also. Everyone we met was wearing a face mask and practicing social distancing. The clerk at the gift shop didn't even touch my purchase or credit card. I checked myself out under his direction.

The UPS delivery truck pulled up while we waited and the driver delivered two small packages to the gift shop and drove off. We would see the same driver later up at Chisos Basin. Butch and I wondered where his route was and how long it took him to drive it?

The botanical garden was interesting. It jogged my memory of names of desert plants with which I had been familiar as a kid; yucca, cholla, prickly pear. Lots of cactus. One cactus I had never seen before was the purple prickly pear.

Purplish Prickly Pear
Found only with the greater Big Bend region,
this prickly pear can be vibrant green during
wet times, or deep magenta during colder
months or dry times. Yellow flowers with red
centers will bloom from April to July.

Really beautiful.

So after postcard writing (Butch mailed them for me) and license plate looking (Wisconsin, Louisiana, and Texas) and people watching (folks came to fill their water bottles at the spigot near our bench) we drove back to the construction stop and waited for the pilot truck to take us up to the lodge.

With one eye on the clock we checked in and quickly unloaded the car. I hurried to put our groceries in the tiny fridge and freezer. Then we took the burritos we had purchased with our breakfast to eat for dinner in the car on the way to the observatory. (I didn't even take time to check my phone for messages or emails, we had not had cell service since Ft. Stockton at 10 AM.) We were headed back through the construction zone by 3:45. Time enough to get to the observatory, I thought. I remember telling Butch that I was purposely tamping down my excitement and taking deep breaths to calm my anticipation. 

Our drive was scenic, the map said so. (Who decides when the route warrants the red dots on the map to signify that it is scenic?) We commented on the various mountain formations. One had "elephant" in the name but you had to really use your imagination to see the elephant. And another peak we had previously decided was Blue Mountain turned out to be Santiago Peak. The variation of color, shape and even the texture of the landscape kept us looking in amazement as we passed. Climbing in elevation again as we neared Ft. Davis we noticed a pair of mule deer, a buck and a doe. It's always a surprise how big they are compared with the deer we have in San Marcos.

Finally I thought I saw a building or tower on one of the mountains, just a glimpse, and then in a few more switchbacks there it was. The white domed structures on two peaks were an exciting sight.

McDonald Observatory, Ft. Davis, Texas.

Imagine our shock when the driveway was blocked with barriers, yellow tape, and a sign that said "CLOSED." Wait, what? We drove to the next entrance to encounter the same thing! Butch squeezed the car past the last barrier on the left and we proceeded up the driveway. A man came out of a building and was walking up to the parking lot. I rolled the window down and asked,  "Is this the place for the star party?" He informed us that the decision to discontinue the viewings due to COVID-19 had been made just that morning. A message had been sent out. "Didn't you get a message?" Of course, now that I had cell service, I did have an email saying that the viewing had been cancelled and our tickets would be refunded! He was very apologetic, but there it was. No star party! Ten hours in the car rushing to get here and poof, gone.

It left me stunned and blinking.

Deep sigh!

What could we do? We turned the car around to squeeze past the barriers again and drive three hours back the way we came.

There are two small consolations however. 

On our way back down the mountain I see this thing in the sky. We are somewhat close to Marfa, a town famous for sightings of mysterious lights. So I keep watching it with keen interest and questioning Butch to make sure he sees what I'm seeing. When he gets a chance, he pulls over and gets his spotting scope out of the trunk. (Doesn't everyone have a spotting scope in the trunk?) And you won't believe it, it's not a spaceship, it's a blimp or a dirigible! Here's proof:

Not a spaceship but a blimp or dirigible.

Maybe we saw the origin of the lights of Marfa!

And the second consolation was seeing the stars myself! Just before the road to Chisos Basin, Butch stopped to let me watch the stars for a bit. The night sky in the desert in January is prime star viewing. I just can't get enough.

I took this picture with my Nikon CoolPix L830, no special lens.
This is part of Cassiopeia, I think. Of course, the photo does not capture
the full effect of the sparkling night sky. Even so, it's pretty
good, I think, for this amateur photographer.
If you don't agree, keep it to yourself.