This is the second year that wife Shari and I have taken in the Dirt Fest at Terlingua/Lajitas in the Big Bend. I notice, and maybe you have too, that there are lots of books on the Big Bend – picture books, historical books, technical books on the geology, the plants, the wildlife, the art, and the list just goes on and on. The reason is that this land of over a million acres is a compelling inspiration on so many levels. The fist thing about it is its grandeur. The views are stunning as you approach it, and every corner you turn is painted with colors and lines like no other place you have ever seen. The landscape is so dramatic that it stirs feelings of danger and primal threat as you imagine those first humans who made some kind of life out here – or tried to. You forget most of the time that half of your vista is taking in Mexico because the Rio Grande lies behind and below the maze of volcanic afterthought that is left from the creation of the place. When you do travel to places where the river can be experienced, you sense that this mostly lazy thread that winds between the hills and canyons takes its turn in the battle to alter the rocks in some awesome explosion of force when the rains pull the trigger upstream. This is not a visit, or a trip, or a mere sightseeing side-trip. The Big Bend in many ways is a chance to see the Earth’s past and touch the power and beauty that hints to us everywhere but punches you squarly in the face here.
The great mountain biking here cannot be fully understood, nor quickly taken in. It’s bigger, longer, and threatening to contemplate. Exactly what the sport can be in your wildest dreams.