The drive was hell. Eleven hours on the road to get to nowhere.

We have arrived at Ft. Stockton and realize we still have a two hour drive to reach the park.
We were running out of daylight and we still had to set up camp and get something cooked for dinner.

As we turn south on 385 toward our destination I see storm clouds and rain off in the distance. I think to myself, "What else could go wrong today? Now it looks like we are headed toward a flash flood."

Your mind does funny things when you are tired and hungry, visions of miniature apocalypses begin to manifest: climbing mountains roads in a gale and driving off a cliff, the darkness that was near and the uncertainty that goes with being in an unfamiliar place.

The thunderstorms had passed this part of 385 and every couple of hundred of feet we had to slow down to go through a low spot in the road where the rainwater had pooled. Everything conspired to make this drive drag on .

The landscape had rapidly changed from the mesas topped with high tech windmills on I-10 to something that was looking more mountainous. It was the Chisos Mountains of Big Bend that would end our long day. As we got closer to Marathon I thought I could see them in the distance. Dark thunderclouds and rain hovered over the blue mountains and occasional bolts of lightening would strike unseen targets. I hoped this wasn't where we were going. It was.

I became aware of the scent of sweet flowers.

There was nothing. No cars. No traffic. No homes. No electrical poles. Just the desert and the strange mountains that loomed ahead of us.

We finally get to the sign familiar to me from the park's website but we have over thirty miles to go to get to Panther Junction. When we arrive it is closed and we have not seen another car or person since Ft. Stockton. We begin the climb through the mountains to the Basin. I am blind to the scenery around me until we get to the campgrounds. We make the rounds and finally select some campsites, # 1 and # 3. Both campsites have covered tables and one had partial shade from what we would later learn to be a pinion juniper. We were surprised at the number of others camped here. We had been told this was the slow season.

The rain had subsided into a light mist. I get out of the truck and look around.

It is cloudy, misty but the pictures I had seen from the website and other places on the Internet did not do this place justice. Mountains of pink rock dotted with bright green vegetation surrounded us. Strange plants and flowers surrounded the campsite. Sweet flowers still perfumed the air. I thought I saw a black bear running along the road. I am spellbound by the beauty. It was a fantasy.

We had arrived just in time to set up the tent and unload some things before the night finally fell. I can't get the Coleman stove to light so peanut butter and jelly sandwiches make do.

We go to bed on cots in damp tents, shivering. I can't believe we are finally here.

Later in the night, I am awakened by the noise of animals prowling about the camp. I unzip the tent door and see the sky has cleared. It was a moonless night and you could see the Milky Way.

I am spellbound by the beauty. It was a dream.