Mule Ears

I ride bikes.

I don’t run or jog. I don’t own a Segway and I’m not much for speed-walking. I swim now’n’again and only go snowboarding about once a decade. However, there is one activity I’ve taken to over the past few years; hiking.

Typically, I hike here in Texas with my dear friend, Rebecca. It’s our thing, it’s what we do together. Last year we hiked the South Rim of the Chisos Mountains in Big Bend National Park, my first time. Stunning.

Last week, having hiked the South Rim again in November, we were looking for a new adventure. I suggested something I’ve wanted to do ever since I first came to Big Bend six winters ago. “How about Mule Ears?” Rebecca was into it. So, as the sun was rising, we loaded our packs and struck out to climb the saddle of one of Big Bend’s most prominent features.

It was a dream come true, to explore a part of this great land I’ve only stared at from many miles away. Round trip it was about eleven miles, all quite easy except for the very steep, loose, exposed scree field that took us to the saddle. As we hiked, we chatted and laughed, gossiping like old ladies, bearing our soul to the other.

With a break for lunch and many stops to examine the world under our feet, we were out for about six hours. And let me tell you, that was the best six hours I’ve enjoyed in quite a while. Not just for the exercise, not just for the friendship. But because I got to do something I’d thought about for ages, achieved a goal I silently set years ago.

When we got back to town I made a point of heading to “the porch.” There, I enjoyed a bottle of beer while gazing upon those Mule Ears with eyes of experience, standing with feet that know what it is to climb that peak. As I did so, I was thankful for having such a dear friend as Becca; to walk with, to laugh with, to grow with. I also turned my gaze to the left and thought “you know, I still haven’t climbed Emory Peak, the tallest point out here.”  Hey, Becca…..