I can’t really say I woke up. It was more like I was tired of lying on the ground trying to sleep. The sky was a glowing indigo and the brightness of the stars was dimming. The predawn glow of the sun was casting a soft blanket of light across everything. The wind was still relentless and some time in the night I pulled my nylon blanket over myself. Now began a day of work in which I would approach a limit of my body I wasn’t yet aware of.
It took less than 5 minutes to break camp. Everything was shoved into my backpack that wasn’t even designed for hiking, but it all fit. The ‘scenic overlook’ was close so I took the short hike to face East. I wasn’t trying to be quiet, my shoes scraped on the rocks, my pack jumbled on my back, but when I got to the clearing of the overlook I heard a wheezing snort. When I looked over there was a deer staring at me. I froze, wanting to get a good look and not to scare it away. Since it had already seen me it was too late for it to relax. It silently hopped away into the brush.
A few minutes later the sun silently crept up above the horizon. The surrounding granite turned from a morning gray to its familiar pinkish hue. The mesquite trees were alive with bright green leaves and birds fluttered and sang in the first light. I began hiking back to the parking lot. I slept little, and my stomach was empty, already a fog of fatigue hung over me, but I had a mile to go before I could have any breakfast.
About a quarter mile in I scared another deer. I was surprised they were around. I didn’t know where the nearest water source was but I figured they were munching on the mesquite seeds and enjoying the shade of the thick brush.
I got to my car and discarded my pack. I dug out the french press and the oatmeal. The sun was already beginning to feel oppressive, and despite the early heat I was boiling water for coffee and a hot breakfast. I ate a double serving of oatmeal mixed with basically trail mix. I shoved down as much as I could because I knew I’d need the energy for the day.
I filled my water bladder, 2 water bottles and put electrolytes in one. I put some bars and extra drink mixes in my small backpack and was ready to begin.
I started on the West side of the Rock. Basically I backtracked and headed toward my camp site. That was already the 3rd or 4th time I hiked that trail. I again passed a giant rock, the scenic overlook, and then my campsite. Along the way a man jogged past me. He was shirtless, but wore a floppy hat and a marathon vest. Impressive to think he was jogging around the rock while most people just hike. I passed a few other hikers taking their time. Most were walking slow or maybe I was walking fast.
Around the north trail more and more trees were present. The terrain was still rocky but the trail was mostly in the shade. The great dome appeared and disappeared through the foliage and every once in a while I had to stop to admire it. The prickly pear cacti were in bloom as well. Bright orange and yellow flowers exploding from the otherwise pale green and spiney paddles. Insects were a buzz, and birds flitted low from branch to branch.
I paused for a break at a rocky outcrop. Drank some electrolytes and a protein bar. I was greeted by a couple of lizards eyeing me curiously as I took their shady spot under a rock, but I didn’t stay long and continued on my way.
At one point I noticed bright white chunks of quartz on the ground. The more I went on the more I noticed they were everywhere. Pure white and cloudy doting the ground like snow. The granite dome contained quartz, in some spots there were viens of it streaking out across the smooth pink rock. But where I stood the quartz was loose on the ground, spilled out or broken by some natural fluke millions of years ago.
I continued on. One lap around the Rock was about 4 miles. The sun was much higher once I returned to my car to refill my water. It wasn’t lunch time yet, and the hike hadn’t taken much out of me, but I knew I needed to pace myself and drink as much water as I could.
Enchanted Rock has a mian dome, but next to it there is a smaller dome. In between them is a canyon of sorts. After a short break and water refill I headed for the canyon. The terrain is different there. Much rockier, less secure footing. Boulders from long ago tumbled down into the crevice and rested embedding themselves into the otherwise impermeable stone. But the canyon is also shaded. As the sun neared its zenith, I figured a shady hike was appropriate.
What I didn’t count on was the time it would take me to go through the canyon. There were several twists and turns and alternate trails. All in the shade, but all were rocky and changed elevation. I meandered through the labyrinth of trails scaring rock squirrels and banded lizards.
Once through however, the canyon trail opened up on the north side of the main dome. It was pretty sheer but despite this, and the heat, there were several climbers working their way up and down the mountain.
The temperature was increasing, and I figured it would be best to make it back to the car for lunch. I didn’t want to go back through the canyon and according to the map there was another trail that skirted close to the main dome. I chose that route thinking it would be another shady way.
It wasn’t however, the pass was open and rocky, no trees grew in the cracks, no large boulders hung to give shade. It was 100 degrees and the heat reflected off the flat unforgiving ground. I trudged on and before long I ran out of water in my pack and both my bottles.
I was about half a mile to the parking lot. I figured I could make it, but the heat was taking its toll. I realized even with my sunglasses, boonie hat and the handkerchief on my neck, everything was whitewashed. Like when the exposure is turned too high on a picture. All I could hear was my breathing and didn’t even notice my footsteps. Everything was still, silent as if time had paused.
That’s when I saw a deer walk out in front of me no more than 10 yards away. But it vanished after taking only 2 steps. I knew I saw it, but I didn’t see where it went. I walked on and a rabbit hopped onto the rock in front of me, but it too blended into nothing and was gone.
I knew I saw them, but a rational part of my brain told me: it is too hot for wildlife to be out right now, they weren’t scared, they didn’t run…they weren’t there.
And that, dear reader, was a realization that shook me in a deep unknown part of my dehydrated brain. My ‘fun’ getaway hike just got dangerous. Of course I survived, but the path back to reality and the physical and spiritual lesson learned there, is a story for another day…
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