Remaining silent about the destruction of nature is an endorsement of that destruction.

The following story takes place at Enchanted Rock SNA, to have a better feel for the places and names used click on the link for a PDF map of the area provided by the Texas Parks and Wildlife Dept.   (MAP)

Enchanted Rock

Last Saturday I convinced myself that it wasn’t going to be very hot outside, so I decided to head out for a day of hiking around Enchanted Rock State Natural Area, which centers around a billion year old, 640 acre, granite batholith near Fredericksburg, Texas.  The park itself is about 1,600 acres and provides great hiking trails and camping spots and is a really cool place to go rock climbing. I’m not too sure why I felt that it was going to be cooler on that particular day, but I was dreadfully wrong.  It was just shy of 100 degrees outside with high humidity and not even the slightest breeze outside.  It would have been miserable, if not for the breath taking surroundings.

I started out on the trail leading from Sandy Creek to the summit, deciding to save the best for last I cut over to the Frog Pond, which with our excessively dry June, turned into a cracked mud flat, devoid of any water.  Turning away from the sad sight of the frog and waterless frog pond, I cut between Freshman Mountain and Turkey Peak to head over to Buzzard’s Roost, where I hoped to collect some choice bryophytes that abound on the rocks. (Quick note: A scientific permit is required to gather any type of fossil, rock, plant or animal.) Buzzard’s Roost is a steep 300 foot climb to reach the summit which lived up grandly to its name.  As I neared the top a pair of Turkey Vultures, more commonly called Buzzards, were resting their wings and sunning themselves on one of the many huge granite outcroppings.

After reaching the summit and collecting the specimens that I was after, I rested for a while and watched the world from the Buzzard’s perspective high above the valley floor.  Few creatures stirred down below and the solitude was magnificent. 

I climbed down the steep rocks and picked my way through the areas of heavy brush to reach the Loop Trail, that would lead me over to the Moss Lake Primitive Camping Area, so that I could scout out a few locations for a future camping trip in the area.  There were some nice spots, but very little level ground.  The lack of choice sites was made up for by the stunning views of Enchanted Rock.  I marked a few of the better camping places with my GPS, so that I could find them again.  The heat was becoming quite intense so I sat on a fallen log, in the shade of the live oak trees and sipped from my canteen, and took in the smell and sounds of the forest.  After my brief rest, I worked my way around, following the Loop Trail, to the back side of Little Rock (its only 1790 ft tall) and climb up to one of my favorite formations.   I’ve always been fascinated by rocks that have been weathered by the powers of wind and rain so that they have a hole drilled through them.

When I was a child, I believed that such rocks were portals to other worlds and possible window to the future and to this day I have a soft spot in my heart for such formations. 

On my descent from Little Rock, I noticed a blaze of color in the otherwise parched landscape.  Growing out of small patch of soil on the side of the slick rock was a Lantana in full bloom. Its color rang out oblivious to the summer drought and heat.  All around the Lantana, Gulf Fritillary Butterflies fluttered by and stopped on the flowers  deeply drinking the sweet nectar, before moving on to attend to important butterfly business.  

After reaching the valley floor once again, I headed out for the Walnut Springs camping area to a nice place where I stop and have lunch.  I dined near the springs under the shade of an old Juniper.  I filled my canteen from the spring and supplemented my lunch of trail mix with some delicious Prickly Pear Cactus Tuna (fruit) before leaving my serene picnic spot.

After a light lunch and the refreshing spring water, I decided it was time to strike out of the Enchanted Rock summit.  I walked along the Echo Canyon Trail, until I came upon a group of volunteers that were laboring to repair a section of trail.  Caught up in the spirit, I postponed my summit climb for a while, in order to help them haul bags of rock and sand up the steep trail to fill in spots prone to erosion.  When the volunteer crew leader called for a rest, I said my good-byes and headed on up the trail.  I had decided to take a short cut up the side of the rock instead of going a around the rock to the Summit Trail.  My way was shorter, but much steeper and more rugged terrain, so I’m not so sure that it was much of a time saver.  It did, however, give me the chance to see up close a side of Enchanted Rock that most people don’t make the effort to get to.  I scrambled to the summit and what little breath that I had left was sucked from my lungs by the awesome view of the surrounding hill country.  It was hot, humid, hard work to get to the top, but it was worth every second of hardship to behold the beauty that lay all around.