One of the easier trails in the Rio Grande Village area is the Hot Springs Trail, which takes you three miles through the hills, canyons, and desert to, where else, Hot Springs! But when the river is high, like it was on this day, the Hot Springs are flooded. So, no relaxing in the springs when you get there! When the river is low, the water from the Springs runs clear and warm. The Springs were developed in the late 1920s. There was a lodge, store, and the Spring House where visitors would soak up the powers of the mineral hot springs. The foundation is the only thing remaining of the Spring House now. The lodge and store buildings still exist though they are no longer used.
The weather forecast was for temperatures in the low 60s so I put on a sweatshirt and nylon windbreaker, packed my little bag with “energy” food to eat along the way, grabbed some water, my hat and walking stick and was on my way.
The trailhead is on the opposite side of the Village, about two miles away, so I drove the van over. After passing through the grove of green cottonwood trees the trail started up. And up. It was uphill for the first 3/10 of a mile. And not just a gradual uphill slope, but steep switchbacks that I am sure have tested many a soul, mine included! As it turned out, this was actually the hardest section of the trail (as far as going uphill, anyways).
The view from the overlook, after you have navigated the first 3/10 of a mile, uphill. It sure seemed like more than 3/10 of a mile to me!
Probably about half way out, there were three hikers making the return trip. They were the first people I had seen since starting out. Of course, they said the trek was worth it. That's what everyone says about every trail it seems. A short while later when I looked back at where I had been, I saw another lone hiker coming my way. In an odd way, it was somewhat comforting to know that someone else was behind me.
It wasn't long before the lone hiker caught up with me. I'm a slow walker, stopping often along the way. His name was Larry and he was from Wisconsin. We chatted for a minute or two and then he was on his way. I'd see him every now and then, up ahead. About this time, it was getting hot. Much hotter, it seemed, than the 60 degrees that had been forecast. I had already taken off the windbreaker and was considering the removal of the sweatshirt. Instead I pulled up the sleeves. Oddly enough it was cooler with the sweatshirt on than with the bare skin exposed to the direct sunlight.
These were growing in what appeared to be solid stone, right on the edge of the canyon. They were about 8 inches tall.
The desert sometimes appears lifeless and barren, but it is really far from it. Life is all around if you just stop to look for it.
Up and down. Following the worn trail of dust and stones. It goes on and on. The Hot Springs are down there, down by the river. Close, but oh so far away!
Getting closer. The Hot Springs are just in front of that sandbar sticking out into the river.
Looking back. At where I'd been.
I heard someone yelling but couldn't make out what they were saying. It was Larry, the lone hiker. He waited until I caught up with him then told me that he had been trying to tell me about the huge spiral fossil in the path. But I had seen it.
The fossil was at least a foot in diameter. And it was right on the pathway. You can't help but step on it as you go down the trail.
Larry and I walked together to the end of the trail. There were picnic tables beneath the shade of a huge palm tree. Upon closer inspection, the tree was made up of five palm trees clumped together, it was amazing. Even more amazing is the fact that I didn't get a picture of it! Larry and I sat beneath that aged tree and ate our lunch. We talked about everything and about nothing. Soon he was on his way back. I stayed and rested for another fifteen minutes before leaving.
The walk back seemed much harder than it was going out. There was very little shade. I found one spot where a rock overhang provided a bit of relief. It helped. I didn't think I'd have enough water so I would take small sips, just enough to wet the lips. It helped.
The last uphill stretch was the hardest. I knew I was getting close to the overlook. I knew I'd made it! And then I heard a voice. Larry had waited for me there, at the overlook. I thought, how sweet. And I thanked him. He said he was concerned since I was alone, he'd been keeping an eye out for me. He said that if I was feeling anything like he was – exhausted – that it would be nice to take a break before tackling that last downhill section.
I found a rock to sit down on. It happened to be in front of a trail sign, which was casting it's shadow. Ah, shade, just enough to get me out of the sun for a few minutes. I drank the remainder of my water and was thankful for it, as warm as it was and as awful as it tasted, it was delicious.
After about 15 minutes of rest, we continued on down the hill, meeting several other people coming up who were just going to the overlook. At the trailhead Larry and I said our goodbyes. He took the picture of me below. Not a glamorous getup, but it got the job done! If I look hot and tired, it's because I was...
Rather pleased with myself, I slowly walked to the van, pulled out a bottle of cool water and sat down in the shade of one of those glorious cottonwood trees! Then I went to the camp store and had an Ice Cream bar! Well, to be honest, I had two!
Santa Elena Canyon was forged through the eons by the waters of the Rio Grande. Mexico is on the left and the United States on the right. Also on the right is the small stream that joins the Rio Grande that must be crossed to get to the trail.
The view from up above, at the highest point of the trail. The Chisos Mountains off in the distance. The small stream on the left merges with the Rio Grande on the right.
The trail drops down to the river, goes into the canyon about half a mile, and ends just on the other side of the big boulder in the center of the picture. The walls of the canyon, at that point, go straight up from the river.
The next morning I returned for another picture of the Canyon. The water level of the stream had dropped significantly overnight but the stream bed was still quite muddy.
Built on the side of a hill, the walls of the Sublett home are all that remain. The back wall had no windows since it faced the hillside.
The remaining walls of the Sublett home.
The view from the front of the Sublett home. As beautiful as it can be sometimes, I'm not sure it would be worth it to me to live in such a place. For some it obviously is, but I'm not one of them!
The Dorgan house was built on a mesa, which overlooked the Sublett home.
The fireplace in the Dorgan home, made of stone, petrified wood, and adobe bricks, dwarfs the remains of the house. It stands about 10 feet tall.
A detail of the adobe walls of the remains of the Dorgan home.
The ruins of the Sublett home, in the center of the picture, appears insignificant in context of its surroundings. The mountains behind the home are in Mexican territory. The Rio Grande flows at the base of those mountains, several miles from the Sublett home.
The Subletts and Dorgans would have witnessed many such mornings as this. In their struggles to make a living, I wonder if they saw the beauty around them.
The Chisos Mountains. From the northeast side, 15 miles or so from Rio Grande Village.
The high peak on the left is the South rim. This was taken at on overlook a few miles south of Castolon, using the 7x magnification of the zoom lens. The informational sign at the overlook stated that the South Rim was 16 miles away!
The view from about seven miles south of Castolon. The Chisos mountains in the background, Cerro Castellan on the right, and the Rio Grande winding its way through the area.
Cerro Castellan, highlighted by the last rays of the sun at the end of another beautiful day. I stood out in the chilly wind for over an hour waiting and hoping for this moment! It was magnificent and lasted only a few seconds. It was also well worth the time and the cold hands!
The trailhead is on the opposite side of the Village, about two miles away, so I drove the van over. After passing through the grove of green cottonwood trees the trail started up. And up. It was uphill for the first 3/10 of a mile. And not just a gradual uphill slope, but steep switchbacks that I am sure have tested many a soul, mine included! As it turned out, this was actually the hardest section of the trail (as far as going uphill, anyways).
The view from the overlook, after you have navigated the first 3/10 of a mile, uphill. It sure seemed like more than 3/10 of a mile to me!
These were growing in what appeared to be solid stone, right on the edge of the canyon. They were about 8 inches tall.
The desert sometimes appears lifeless and barren, but it is really far from it. Life is all around if you just stop to look for it.
Up and down. Following the worn trail of dust and stones. It goes on and on. The Hot Springs are down there, down by the river. Close, but oh so far away!
Getting closer. The Hot Springs are just in front of that sandbar sticking out into the river.
Looking back. At where I'd been.
The fossil was at least a foot in diameter. And it was right on the pathway. You can't help but step on it as you go down the trail.
Rather pleased with myself, I slowly walked to the van, pulled out a bottle of cool water and sat down in the shade of one of those glorious cottonwood trees! Then I went to the camp store and had an Ice Cream bar! Well, to be honest, I had two!
