With the tallest peak in Texas, Guadalupe Mountains national park offers lofty adventures
By E. Dan Klepper
I am standing on the summit of Guadalupe Peak, the highest point in Texas,
tracing the Earth’s curvature with my fingertip. The horizon bends like a longbow at this height—8,749 feet above sea level—and a gauzy canopy hangs above it, capped by an azure sky.
It’s six o’clock in the evening, probably not a good time to
linger on the Peak while anticipating the hike back down to Pine Springs
Campground, a 3,000-foot drop in elevation by way of dozens of rocky
switchbacks. But thanks to the dramatic light, all three of the state’s
runner-up peaks—Shumard, Bush, and Bartlett—are collapsing into the silhouette
of the distant Brokeoff Mountains, and the crenulated edges of El Capitan,
directly below, radiate the bright evening’s glow. Taking in the Peak’s
irresistible view feels like flying, and in fact, I stand higher than the
routine altitude of a small plane. Add in the narrow confines of the Peak
itself, and a hike up the Guadalupe Peak Trail—a favorite daylong adventure in
Guadalupe Mountains National Park—approximates the only way to soar across the
top of Texas without the aid of wings.
I am standing on the summit of Guadalupe Peak, the highest
point in Texas, tracing the Earth’s curvature with my fingertip. The horizon
bends like a longbow at this height—8,749 feet above sea level—and a gauzy canopy hangs above it, capped by an azure sky.
This year commemorates the 40th anniversary of Guadalupe
Mountains National Park, a desert mountain environment with more than half of
its 86,000-plus acres designated as wilderness. Established by Congress in
1972, the national park lies along the northern limits of the state’s “boot
heel” and shares a border with New Mexico. It originated with a 1959 land gift
from
petroleum geologist Wallace Pratt, and was supplemented by the purchase of J.C.
Hunter Jr.’s Guadalupe Mountain Ranch a decade later. Pratt loved the country’s rugged beauty enough to build a
summer home on his McKittrick Canyon property, a riparian waterway in the
northeast corner of the park where bigtooth maples turn saffron in the fall.
The McKittrick Canyon Trail has become one of the park’s premier autumn
destinations. Hunter’s ranch holdings comprise the lion’s share of the national
park, forged from several smaller ranches in the surrounding sierras and
foothills. Pratt and Hunter, both conservationists, recognized the intrinsic
character of the Guadalupes and helped facilitate the national park’s creation.
The park also celebrates a history that extends far beyond
the conservancy efforts of Hunter and Pratt. The Guadalupe range shelters
important components of the state’s natural heritage including springs, salt
basins, gypsum and quartz dunes, fossils, and native plants and animals (more than 300 species of birds
alone). The park also contains some of the earliest remnants of our frontier
past. Explorers, pioneers, settlers, surveyors, Native Americans, and the
military all crossed this way over the last century-and-a-half, leaving behind
ranch houses, overland-mail and stage routes, encampments, and rock ruins.
As my hiking companion and I make our way down the Guadalupe
Peak Trail in the failing light, I recall the words of U.S. Boundary
Commissioner John Russell Bartlett, who in 1850 set out to validate the state’s
border provisions as outlined in the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. His
description of the surrounding environment, recorded as he and his crew passed
through the region via mule and wagon train, remain some of our earliest, and
most distinct, eyewitness accounts of the Guadalupe Mountains.
“The road here, after passing through long defiles, winds
for some distance along the side of the mountain,” Bartlett wrote of traveling
through Guadalupe Pass, a natural byway that comes into view a thousand feet
below me as I descend the switchbacks along the east side of the Peak. “Now it
plunges down some deep abyss, and then it suddenly rises again upon some little
castellated spur. … Again we pass along the brink of a deep gorge, whose
bottom, filled with trees, is concealed from our view, while the evergreen
cedar juts forth here and there from the chasms in its side.” Bartlett’s
narrative also serves as an apt description of Guadalupe Peak Trail, a slender
footpath blasted out of the mountain’s vertiginous flanks less than 40 years
ago. 
From the August 2012 issue.
Subscribe Order back issues
|