46: Mammoth Lure

Enchanted Rock, Texas

C R A B A P P L E,  T X

Enchanted Rock Natural Area is a phenomenon of monumental proportions.  Essentially, it’s a bald, dome-shaped batholith rising 425 feet above Big Sandy Creek in the Texas Hill Country.  Imagine a large sand dune all of a sudden hardened over.  Its dome shape comes from exfoliation – millions of years of thin skin layers flaking exposing the underlying next layer to begin the process again. 

Traveling toward Enchanted Rock Natural Area along Ranch Road 965 from Crabapple, Texas, you crest a hill and all of a sudden, there it is.  An unusually large bald hill in pinkish hue standing out prominently amid its tree and shrub-brush covered neighbors.  It’s easy to see how Enchanted Rock it got its name.  

There are a number of legends surrounding this beautiful monadnock.  Native tribes revered it as a holy portal to other worlds.  Others believe that spending the night on the rock makes you invisible.  My favorite though is this: bad fortune and death will befall anyone who climbs the rock with bad intent.  My ascent will surely be grand in its intents.  I’ve spent a lifetime learning how to appreciate the uniqueness of such wonderful geographies.  Staying mindful of the spirit of a place and understanding its uniqueness is a skill I’ve honed through many years of visiting remarkable places like Enchanted Rock. 

Along Ranch Road 965 I pass a mobile sign set up by the DMV.  Its message in flashing orange lights warns that due to the wet weather, the trails up Enchanted Rock are closed.  Unfazed, I drive on, park at the visitor’s center, and strike up a conversation with the ranger.  After I pay the entrance fee, she scoffs at the closure sign and begins telling me what to expect as I ascend Enchanted Rock, then adds that I can ignore all other trail closure signs as well.  I suppose the closure signs are only an attempt at shooing away weak-willed visitors. 

With each step toward its summit, the view gets better, although even the first few steps up this trail start amid pure Hill Country beauty.  It’s a steep, Achilles-stretching climb up this massive boulder.  This place surely seems to warrant National Park status, but I suspect Texans likely think their state parks are better than National Parks.  Everything’s Bigger in Texas. 

Bits of thorny cactus and beautiful flowering life take hold in the sporadic vernal pools found along the way up.  These rarities create some of the most unique ecosystems in the world - tiny oases of life springing forth out of a desert of stone.  Tiny freshwater shrimp live in these pools. They lay eggs which amazingly survive the dry season and hatch when the pools refill. The shrimp swim upside down, eating algae and plankton. In turn, they are eaten by birds, providing an important link in the food chain. These creatures are an integral part of the fragile vernal pool habitat.

I’m not the only one ascending Enchanted Rock – other ignored the closure signs too.  Still though, it’s easy to find a quiet spot to yourself on this massive structure.  Under one of the larger folds in the rock, I find an east-facing spot with unobstructed views out toward Turkey Peak.  Just me and a flock of vultures looking out over the Texas Hill Country – I’m immediately aware that this moment will become the indelible stamp of this visit to Enchanted Rock.  With nothing planned later except a visit to Luckenbach, I take in the view without the pressures of the strict schedule that will be dictating life over the next several days.  It feels wonderful to sit upon such a holy portal unencumbered in the stillness.  Am I becoming invisible?

On the way down, I pass a group of college girls loudly rambling on about last night’s exploits.  Seems they’ve come to Enchanted Rock without the right intent.   I wish them well but wonder if bad fortune is in their future.

What I love about The Nature Conservancy is that every property they help preserve has a unique lure.  Here in Texas where everything is bigger, the preserved lure of Enchanted Rock is mammoth. 

 Luckenbach, Texas

 With lit cigar in hand, I weave my way up to where Bo Porter in black hat sits with his back against an old oak tree leading the Friday picker’s circle in Luckenbach.  I drop ten dollars in his tip jar and ask if he knows any Doc Watson.  He lights up and we shake hands.  When the next song begins, he spots me in the small crowd and smiles as he starts into a really great rendition of Walk On Boy.  After a few lines, others in the circle join in blending the Doc Watson classic into one of the more unique musical experiences I’ve ever witnessed.  When the song is over, Bo and I make eye contact again and I raise my half-empty Altstadt Kolsch in toast to his musical talent. 

Back in the ‘70s, Waylon Jennings wrote a song about Luckenbach, praising this place for its back-to-basics charm.  Forty years later, that charm surprisingly still exists.  Park for free in a grassy field out front and simply walk on back behind the old post office to enjoy the famous picker’s circle.  There’s no entrance fee or queuing up; come and go as you please.  Under the protection of the old oak tree, and with locally brewed beer and a mild cigar in hand, it’s a fantastic way to wind down for a few hours in the Hill Country of dead-center of the lone star state.  It’s about as Texas as Texas can be. 

LEARN MORE ABOUT TNC’S WORK AT ENCHANTED ROCK HERE.