On July 14, 2016, Lori and I hiked the devils staircase trail at Guadalupe mountains state park, and Lori’s Tevas had to be retired when the soles delaminated, but not before we hiked the final 1/2 mile on her repaired shoe across a field of bowling ball- and larger-sized boulders.
As we finished the hike, a guy appeared covered in blood. He had gone off trail and fallen and hit his head, and lost consciousness, and woken up and pulled himself back onto the trail and then appeared in front of us. He accepted water, but he was no longer actively bleeding and refused help. He did not appear impaired, though who knows with a fresh head injury? He refused help and went on his way. I hope he’s ok today.
The next day we hiked to the highest point in TX. I was in my Tevas, but sadly, Lori’s had been retired. At the top, out of nowhere, a red biplane flew over the top of us and disappeared too quickly to get a photo.
As we hiked up, a few people passed us on their way down. One couple, a young woman and an older woman in tears, maybe daughter and mother, left us with the impression that something about the hike was too much for the older woman. They had not summited.
We also saw a couple of mountain goats as we neared the top, which harbored several trees that swarmed with lady bugs.
It was a great experience, and fun to leave our note in the time capsule there.
Just below the summit, a Boulder in the trail proved the scariest part of the hike, as it required walking on a very steep, angled down and away from the mountain and somewhat slippery, though very uneven surface, with a sheer drop below it.
I miss Guadalupe Mountains, and I’m glad Lori and I had the opportunity. I hope to get there again soon.
