Nine men met in the parking lot of the Wal-Mart in Del Rio.

Jim Green and Emet Huntsman had it all under control. As usual they had expertly planned the meals for our little trip and we were zipping through the store like men on a mission. Ice, Cokes, cookies, meat, a couple boxes of ammo and, oh yeah the beer were all stowed safely away and within a few minutes we were gone and you couldn't even tell we had been there.

Less than an hour later we had crossed the Pecos, cell phones no longer worked, and we were in that great part of the state where nature still rules and man just passes through. Yeah, life was getting good. It was late in the afternoon when we arrived in the park.

We spent our first night in  Nugent Mountain camp ground a back country primitive sight with an unobstructed view of the great western wall of the Sierra Del Carmen's.  These mountains reach heights of over 8000' and actually form the eastern or southern wall of Boquillas Canyon. The setting sun turns this massive wall into an inferno of orange light that rivals any cloud that you may
have seen in the sky at dusk and Nugent Mountain camp ground has a commanding view of this spectacle.

The next two days were spent driving the back roads of the park and hiking in the mountains. Some of us spent a day lost around Burro Mesa looking for something called Apache Canyon. We were told there was an old ranch house still standing there and that it was worth the walk but we could not find it. Still, a day wandering lost in the mountains of west Texas is an experience that stays with you and those of us who took that hike had a great time. Wish you all could have been there.

Day 3 saw us pack up and do something different. We moved west out of the park and headed for Presidio. We arrived there Sunday morning and stocked up on more food, snacks and beer and headed west again on Ranch Road 170.  Approximately 35 miles later we came to Ruidosa Texas, this is one of those little settlements of approximately fifty or so hearty soles that has no  discernable reason for existing. It sits on a dry flat plain of sun baked sand a mile or so from the Rio Grande at the foot of the Chinati Mountains and its tumbled down building and homes look as if they are collapsing under the weight of the huge west Texas sky and the ever present coat of dust that covers every thing. 

Approximately 1/2 mile west of town we turned onto Hot Springs Road and we drove the 6 miles to Chinati Hot Springs a rustic desert resort where we would spend our next two nights.  The springs are down in a shallow canyon and as we dropped into the parking lot of the resort the old cotton wood trees and the green of an oasis in the desert again worked their magic. The canyon actually has surface water flowing in it for a short distance and the yards of the resort are irrigated with a series of small canals dug into the rocky ground. As always the presence of water immediately cools the surrounding area by at least 15 degrees or so it seems. The hot springs come out of the ground at a  continuous 109 degrees and they are great. The rock tubs are out of doors and it is hard to describe the pleasure of relaxing in WATER after 3 days in the desert. Let's just say it was great and leave it at that.

Chinati  Hot Springs was built in the 1930's and to say it is rustic is probably being kind but it fit our group like a glove and we enjoyed it immensely.  The place has a communal kitchen and all meals are prepared and eaten in  that building, it was a hoot. We had ample food and there were only 4 other  people in the resort and that included the couple that managed the place,  we invited them to eat with us each of the 2 nights we were there.
 
Now each of these trips seems to teach me something. Our nightly discussions this time centered on Wesleyan theology and on the Trinity.  Beliefs on both topics were spiritedly discussed and thoroughly examined around the camp fire and over the CB radios as the arguments continued throughout the trip. Our men are true to their beliefs and they are not shy when it comes to telling you why you're wrong and they are right. We revel in these discussions (arguments) and they are the high points of our trip.
 
It's funny how it seems that whenever I get to thinking I'm living right and that I've got my mind around God something happens to show me just how much I still have to grow. You see, when we arrived at the Springs I went into the office to check us in and I finally met David and Chrissie, the managers, face to face, I was a little put off by David's appearance. He is a 50 year old white male with dread locks (corn rows if you will) that reach his shoulders and don't look as if they have been washed in 20 years.  Now the Big Bend area of Texas is populated by characters and you learn to live with them if you go out there much but it is always a shock and takes some getting used to.

As I said, we had supper the first night and fed everybody at the Springs including David and Chrissie and as we ate David sat down across from me and we got to visiting. David asked what had brought us to his establishment and I told him we had come to run The Chispa Road. This is a 70 mile strip of dirt, rock, silt and God knows what else road that runs through the wilds of West Texas and is nearly impassable. David was shocked, he protested loudly that nobody with any sense drove that road. He said it was barely a road, that there had been shootings, robberies, kidnappings and God knows what else happening on that road over the last few years and everybody pretty well stayed away from it.  

Jimmy Green had come over during the discussion and put in his 2 cents worth " I didn't hear anything that would keep me from going " and we all laughed. David sat for a minute with a funny look on his face and then got up and left without saying a word, I was half afraid we had offended him.  10 minutes later he was back with a chain saw and a satellite cellular phone. He put these two items on the table in front of me and said " if I can't talk you out of going then at least take these with you and I will give you my private phone number, if you get into trouble call me and I will have the Border Patrol come and get you, they are friends of mine".

Now, I ask you who was the better man ? Who was acting more like our Lord ?  I'm thinking about how awful his hair looks and he's worrying about my safety. You know I hate coming out second at anything but I have to admit that I was the lesser man that day. Yeah, every time I think I got a handle on this Christ thing something happens to show me just how far I've got to go. The Lord used a guy with bad hair ( at least he has hair ) to show me just how shallow I was (am) and I keep thinking about it. Funny how people who don't go to church can make some of us who do look so bad.

Well, the Chispa Road was tough but we ran it at a time when it was dry and we had no extreme problems either from the country or those scary evil folks who are supposed to live there. In fact we saw no one for 70 miles not 1 living sole, just a few wild cows and horses and they looked as forlorn and worn down as the collapsed houses, broken down power lines and closed mines that represented the broken dreams of the folks who once lived there. I wonder where they are now !


Jim Callaway
President, McAllen Dist.UMM