The Ghetto of a Thousand Rules.

North, twenty six miles out of El Paso down highway sixty two, there is a turn off at a space craft shaped real-estate building.This road winds and dips its way out into the flats of a desert landscape between rolling hills, as if from no were lie’s an out cropping of rock only several dozen acres in size, Hueco Tanks State Park. Just before the entrance gates were climber vehicles and sometimes tourists line up each morning to get in (on days you are void of reservations), turns left an ever deteriorating road. To the Hueco Rock Ranch it makes its way along the flats a five minute drive from the park. Here behind a house and barn were climber gather each evening, is a several acre “camp ground”, if you will (more just dirt flats with two roads and dispersed vegetation). If you sit on the ground all you see are the few bushes around you, the top parts of the barn and house and tops of the two “large” peaks that are North and West mountain of the park, if you stand up you see for miles in every direction, even with small glimpses of Mexico.

In the back east corner I find myself huddle under a blanket in my tent listening to the intermittent rain and howling northern winds cutting at my 14+ old Outbound tent. Today is a forced rest day (like all the others I’ve taken, forced by rain and a day of snow - good thing the desert is so dry), but much needed as I have climbed 13 of the last 16 or so days and my body screams with fatigue.

This morning I woke to the sound of a giant flag howling in the wind above my head and an unusual amount of light entering my tent. I rose to discover my fly half off flapping dangerously in the wind, as it threatened to blow away. I quickly dressed and ran out in the biting cold to peg the fly now with 5 extra guy lines. I sat huddled in my tent reading until my stomach could take no more. I went out to grab my coffee and oatmeal, set up my mini stove (in vestibule) to discover a missing crucial piece to my stove. Out in the wind I attempted to cook on the big stove, hunkered in the back of the truck to make a peanut butter burrito up against the duck tape back window, thanks to a mishap yesterday which ended with me putting a ski pole through the glass, to poor results I now consuming runny oats in my tent.

On any other day we climb in perfect temperatures which continue to get warmer, when void of this northern wind. In the evenings we eat then head to the barn to play table tennis and soccer, enjoy a card game, a beer and new friends. When we tire of these activities there is an endless supply of pallet fires to warm the soul, and stories of the days before, injuries, which there are a few of at this moment (including my pinkie finger which its pulley decided to explode a week of so ago - which only affects few moments). With all that there is still nothing to complain about, life is good. I’m enjoying the company of four books right now, and some new films I’ve picked up.

Peace and Love,
Teacozy