Guadalupe Mountains National Park - Hiking to Guadalupe Peak, the Highest Point in Texas and Some Park Info
"You're going to hike a mountain in Texas? Texas is all flat!"
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| At the top of Texas, Guadalupe Peak at 8,751ft. The hike climbs almost 3,000ft in elevation over 4.2 miles to the top. Texas is not all flat. |
Buckle in. This is a long and detailed post in an attempt to do both the park and my hike justice.
The Drive Down
I drove down to the Texas boarder all the way from northern New Mexico (read about my time near Taos, NM here). The main part of Guadalupe Mountains National Park is about half an hour south of the New Mexico/Texas boarder. I took a detour on the way down to drive through Santa Fe. In hindsight, this was a terrible decision. All I did was drive on tiny roads too concerned with trying not to hit the pedestrians all over the place to look at anything. I took another detour through Roswell just to say I went there. You have to keep these long haul drives interesting.
It was a long trip down to Texas, and yes a lot of it was insanely flat. Once I hit southern New Mexico, the mountains of the central and northern part of the state turned into flat plateaus. I would drive on a flat plateau for forever, drop down over a hill, and then drive forever on another endless plateau. Eventually, I started to see isolated mountains far ahead and the unmistakable silhouette of El Capitan (Yosemite is not the only park with this namesake) and the Guadalupe Mountains.
Guadalupe Mountains National Park is one of the least visited National Parks, which is a large reason why I decided on a trip to New Mexico and West Texas in September and October 2021. I was able to check off a few more parks while staying away from the mass herds of people who only recently discovered the outdoors during Covid. Hiking Guadalupe Peak, the tallest point in Texas, was the central focus of my trip. I built the itinerary for everything else around it. I'll be honest, I didn't even know this park existed until I started looking for less frequently visited national parks. I'm glad I discovered it because it was definitely worth the trip.
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| This is the worst picture ever, but if you look past the buggy windshield you can see the abrupt form of El Capitan at the start of the mountains. This was my first glimpse of the Guadalupes. El Capitan was used as a landmark for centuries, if not longer by various travelers due to its unmistakable appearance, easily visible for miles. |
Pine Springs Campground
I got to Pine Springs campground at the base of the Guadalupe Mountains just before dark and set my tent up with ease. This was my first time using my new tent. I tried (not very hard, admittedly), but I could not push the stakes down into the hard desert earth. I didn't think anything of it because I rarely use them normally. I was glad to find the campground about half-full. As a first come first served campground in a National Park, I was worried about arriving so late. Today, it is virtually impossible to secure a campsite at a National Park unless you arrive the second someone leaves or it is a reserved site. (I believe this specific campground has moved to electronic reservations since.) I had several backup spots marked on my map, mostly parking areas on BLM land at least 30 minutes away. I was glad that I didn't need to drive around, desperately looking for a spot in the dark. I have had to do that many times before, and it isn't fun.
This was also my first time camping in the desert. I was a little nervous. While I am a seasoned camper, I didn't know what to expect in the desert. I figured I'd either be okay with it or hate everything about it. I saw a tarantula near my tent in the brush beside the campsite clearing. My first real life tarantula encounter! I stomped around aggressively to make it run in the opposite direction of my tent and forced myself to pretend that it was only a figment of my imagination. Strike 1 for desert camping. This was the only one I saw at the campsite, so I was okay, but I did a thorough investigation every time I stepped out of my tent after seeing him! Additionally, I decided that the zipper for the doors should be up toward the top instead of down near the ground where an unwanted spider could somehow slip inside. Not today, Satan!
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| Views from my campsite of the mountains to the north of the campground's canyon - Guadalupe Peak is to the southwest and can't be seen from here. |
I went camping in the desert.
It rained.
A storm blew through overnight. This was not what I was expecting for my first night camping in the desert. Summertime is monsoon season for the Chihuahuan Desert. I figured I had avoided most of the rainy season by the end of September and would only have to contend with possible afternoon thunderstorms. Silly me.
The actual storm lasted only about 30 minutes. It was bad enough that I thought about taking shelter in the car. I had one problem: the gusts of wind. Every time a gust blew, my entire tent - with me in it - would flip almost completely on its side with only me holding it down along the edge, sideways between the bottom and side of the tent. Every time. I couldn't leave no matter how bad the lightening was because it would blow away without me holding it down! I thought it might even blow away with me in it! Strike 2 for desert camping! I wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. I wish I could say that I'm exaggerating, but my tent was actually sideways every couple of minutes! It was windy all night, but luckily I only had to worry about blowing away during the 30 minute storm. Aside from almost blowing away, my tent did a good job holding up during its inaugural night and storm. It stayed dry inside, sustaining no damage.
The weather was beautiful in the morning. I was happy it passed through overnight.
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| Sunrise at my campsite |
Visiting Guadalupe Mountains National Park
This park is literally in the middle of nowhere. It is technically in the town of Pine Springs, but Pine Springs isn't exactly a town: it's a few very spread out ranches and an unlimited amount of oil wells. There is no gas, food, or basically anything around for many miles. You need to come prepared with enough gas and supplies, including extra for potential emergency situations. I also brought a large amount of water to use for camping and drinking, although there is potable water at some of the trailheads and campgrounds.
This is not the park for you if:
- You are the type of park visitor who enjoys simply driving the scenic loop and getting out at a few places for pictures. There are no scenic loops or roads
- You like to sleep in a hotel or indoors
- Camping to you means relaxing at a campfire with marshmallows and food cooked over the fire
- You are afraid knowing that a rattlesnake or several other creepy crawlies could be nearby. Mountain lions are rare but also roam the park.
This is the park for you if:
- You like to hike! There are several hiking trails through slot canyons, along salt flats, and other mountains to climb in addition to the Top of Texas
- You don't mind roughing it when you camp - no electricity or showers and only pit toilets
- Campfires aren't the most important part to you about camping. There are no fires allowed - the southwest is dry and fire prone. All cooking must be done on a gas stove. I guess you could cook a marshmallow over a gas flame if you insist on eating one
- You are okay with seeing a giant ass grasshopper or the occasional tarantula, rattlesnake, or other wildlife encounter.
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| My finger next to a smaller one of the giant grasshoppers I saw. There was one the size of my hand that I didn't get a picture of because I yelled in terror when I saw it making it hop away, presumably also in terror. |
Guadalupe Mountains Formation
Before I talk about my hike, I wanted to quickly mention what makes the Guadalupe Mountains so unique. The Permian Basin was once a shallow sea covering much of modern day Western Texas and up into part of New Mexico some 200+ million years ago. The Capitan Reef formed (not to be confused with Capitol Reef in Utah, which is not an actual reef) from limestone largely from algae and sponges, instead of coral like modern reefs. The sea started to fill in with sediment and dead organic matter, became closed off from the main ocean, and eventually evaporated, leaving behind minerals and sediment. The basin and reef were completely filled in and buried. The dead organic matter was transformed into oil and gas over millions of years. If you've heard of the Permian Basin before, it was most likely in reference to the area's rich oil and gas deposits. They make up a large portion of the total oil produced in the US. You can see gas flare offs from oil rigs all around when driving thorough the area at night.
The Capitan Reef would have remained buried under all of the sediment if not for a large tectonic uplift which started about 20 or 30 million years ago. Parts of the reef rose vertically as much as 2 miles! The caves in and around nearby Carlsbad Caverns National Park (future blog post) were formed from the same reef structure as the Guadalupe Mountains. Those sections did not uplift as high up as the mountain sections and remain mostly underground.
El Capitan is the beginning of the reef. Years of exposure weathered away the sediment, while leaving the reef structure mostly intact. According to scientists, it appears almost exactly how it would have looked hundreds of millions of years ago during its heyday under water because the sediment surrounding it has washed away.
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| El Cap in all her glory! |
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| A great view of El Cap and the mountains behind it. You can actually see Guadalupe Peak in this photo. I think it's the peak you see right in the middle of this picture (not the seemingly larger ones to the right). Everywhere you look, there are marine fossils. Nothing is more bizarre than climbing a mountain and seeing very distinct fossils of shells and other marine life. I almost didn't believe that I was on a giant reef until I started to see fossils similar to those that I've seen in the Great Lakes or at the ocean.
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The Hike up Guadalupe Peak
Okay, now to the part you wanted to read (I'm sorry, this blog post took on the form of a recipe post with a long life story before the recipe).
The hike to 8,751ft Guadalupe Peak is 4.2 miles with a 3,000ft elevation gain. Then you have to do it all in reverse to get back down. The round trip hike is 8.4 miles, rated strenuous, and reportedly takes roughly 6-8 hours to complete. Some sources, including the sign at the rest area and view point along Rt. 62, list the height at 8,749ft. However, the Park Service lists the most accepted height at 8,751ft.
I woke up early at sunrise so that I could do most of my hiking before the hot afternoon sun. Temperatures can get to 90°F in the afternoons at the end of September. Afternoons are also when storms tend to blow through. The top of a mountain or edge of a cliff was the last place I wanted to be in a storm or the hot desert afternoon sun.
My phone had no idea what time zone it was in, and neither did I. I didn't even know what time it was. It kept switching back and forth as it kept picking up different cell phone towers. I believe it was around 7:30am when I started (from looking at timestamps from pictures). I wrote down in the trail registry that it was maybe 8:30 with ??? after the time. I looked up the time after the hike in one of the few spots in the park where I had a signal: West Texas and Guadalupe Mountains National Park are mountain time, but the main part of Texas is central time. The line is just a few miles away from the park. The problem was, I didn't know which was correct at the time. I also didn't know how much time had passed between me checking my watch to know if it had switched an hour ahead or behind. I didn't have the frame of reference to look back on. My pictures on my phone are all out of order because it switched so much. I wish I would have brought a normal watch instead of my Garmin, then I would have had a fixed time to look back on.
The trailhead starts at the Pine Springs parking area. I walked over from my nearby campsite. I was a little worried when I didn't see very many cars in the parking lot. I didn't know why there weren't more hikers getting an early start.
After about half a mile, the trail starts a long series of steep steps and switchbacks for about a mile along the eastern face of the mountain. Physically, this is the hardest part of the trail. Each switchback brings better views looking east towards the parking lot and trailhead. The views of the mountains across the canyon to the north are stunning as well.
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| The steps and switchback section. |
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Panorama of one of the first good vistas along the switchbacks. I like this photo because it includes a friendly prickly pear. A selfie while I stopped for a breather. You can see the parking lot in the background where the trail starts. After the long switchbacks, the first of two cliff sections appears by way of a warning sign. I had done a lot of research prior to my trip to try to prepare myself for the cliffs. I watched videos of others hiking the drop offs but found no information about how far straight down they went. Much of the info on the cliff sections are anecdotal from those who have hiked it like, "it wasn't so bad," and "the pictures make it look worse than what it is." I am terrified of heights, but it looked doable from all of the videos. I knew many children and families do the hike. It wasn't like Angel's Landing in Zion or anything supposedly dangerous. I have navigated short sections on trails and mountains before that had steep drop offs. I knew I'd be scared, but I was determined to at least try. I made sure to start my GoPro so that I could get good footage of the cliffs. I recorded the entirety of each cliff section hiking up and back down. I did not take pictures because I knew I would freak out trying to do that. Plus, I like my phone securely with me and not at the bottom of a canyon in pieces. I also would have footage from the GoPro to see what it looked like after the fact to avoid looking down. I never wanted to look down, but I still wanted to know what it looked like. As I started over the first section I quickly realized that all of the reviews and videos I watched were crap. I was terrified! If you watch my YouTube video, you'll know my thoughts the exact second I take my first step. I forced myself to go on, focusing on each step individually and the wall next to me, never the cliff to my right. I talked myself through it and came out on the other side. "That wasn't so bad," I told myself. It was not too long, and I managed not to freak out. One cliff section down. One more to go before the top. |
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| The warning sign at the start of the cliff. Horses are allowed on the trail, and you're required to dismount for these sections. You know you're safe again when you see the back of the sign warning the other direction. I think the spacing on this sign is weird. |
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| Screenshot from my GoPro hiking the first cliff section. See, it was scary! |
After the first cliff section, the trail turns and follows the northern face of the mountain. This section was a steady but gradual incline along some ridges. It was extremely windy; it seemed like all of the wind hit directly on this side. This is where the views really start to blow you away (okay the entire thing is one great view, but these were my favorite). I passed a guy on his way down who told me he had turned around about a half a mile ahead of me because he had no interest in being blown around on a cliff. This worried me. I was mentally trying to calculate how far I was hiking after that to figure out how close I was to that point. I'm terrible at judging distances, so this proved impossible. The ridges were very windy, but at no time did I feel like I would be blown off a cliff. The ridges were steep, but not straight down. After I had known for sure that I made it past half a mile, I relaxed again.
The ecosystem shifts abruptly here from harsh desert to cooler grassy valleys with small sections of pine forest. This side of the mountain is cooler and shaded out from morning sun - another good reason to hike in the morning. Pines used to cover this region during the last ice age, and the only remaining pines able to survive live up high in these cooler areas on shaded northern slopes. After passing the backcountry campground in another pine forest, the final cliff section appears.
I started along it, more confident than before. Once I crossed this cliff, I only had only a little over a mile or a mile and a half to go to the summit. This section was a little longer. I started to round a corner along the cliff and accidently looked down.
I have felt absolute terror from heights before - from the Empire State Building to the Arch in St Louis - I have forced myself up those structures just to say I did it. At each one, I was nearly frozen with sweat and terror. I even shrieked while stepping out on the plexiglass bump-outs at the Willis (Sears) Tower in Chicago. (I was only able to do this while clawing on to my ex's arm so that if it broke, I would drag him down with me.) I know I have a fear of heights and would never hike Angel's Landing or any similar extreme hike. The Guadalupe Peak trail only has a few cliffs sections. As I mentioned earlier, I have done a few steep hikes before and knew I could at least try this one.
This was an entirely new level of fear for me. All of those other times, I was almost frozen with fear but still able to move around. When I looked down here, I felt a giant wave pass through my entire body. It was a weird jello-like paralysis that flowed up from my toes and all the way up to my head. I have never felt a literal wave of terror like that before. I turned and backed into the cliff for support. It felt like an eternity, but it was really only a couple of seconds. The jello feeling didn't linger, it had only flashed through me. The terror, of course stayed.
I was in the process of turning around, admitting my defeat when I saw the bridge. Known as the "Tallest Bridge in Texas," once you cross this, you are at the end of the cliff section and more than 2/3rds of the way to the top. How could I turn around when I knew I was right there, with only about a mile and a half to go. I had made it so far already. I was over the first cliff section and mostly through this one. If I turned back, I would have kicked myself forever knowing all I had to do was take a few more steps. I mustered up my courage. I told myself I could do it. I slowly started forward again, talking myself through each step. The bridge sketched me out, but I crossed it and powered on. I felt a surge of adrenaline and accomplishment as I turned back and looked at what I just overcame. For many people with no fear or just a slight fear of heights, this is a breeze. For me, it required some incredible mental courage.
After this cliff section, I buzzed along.
I want to emphasize that while I like to travel, hike, and camp alone, I know my limits. Solo adventuring has taught me time and time again that the things you can overcome are amazing and wonderful, but there are times when asking for help or turning around require just as much strength and are just as important to learn when to do. Knowing when to quit can also be amazing and wonderful. I talk about how I had to push myself through this even though my mind was screaming against it. To be alone on a trail or in the wilderness, you have to know yourself. There are limits you must set and must stick to. If you don't, you get hurt. This was a case where I knew it was just a mental hurdle, not too risky, and one that I could overcome by myself if I could find the strength. If I had to climb boulders while on this cliffside, then I most likely would have been at my actual limit. This however, was just walking. And, I did it.
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| Looking back at the bridge |
Guadalupe Peak
Once the unmistakable ripples of El Capitan's wavy spine become visible, you know you are close. The very last part of the hike has a few more steep switchbacks up solid but narrow and crumbly weathered limestone rock. I had to use my hands a few times to take steps up, holding on to the side of the rockface. I was a little unsure of the exact path up, so I went slow and took very deliberate steps. I was a paranoid that I was not on the trail and would unknowingly take a step off a 3,000ft drop off. I knew I was in the right spot when I saw a sign for a horse hitching post. Up ahead I had my first glimpse of the metal summit marker at the peak. From piecing together the timestamps on my pictures, I summitted between 10:00 and 10:15. It only took around 2.5 hours to get to the top.
Expletives of joy and that feeling you get when you're tired but finally finish something rang out! I picked my way up the limestone chunks to the summit marker. I didn't see the summit box with the book to sign, which I guessed was removed for Covid purposes. Fun fact about the metal obelisk summit marker: American Airlines installed it in 1958 to celebrate the 100th anniversary of a mail stagecoach route that went nearby, using the peak and El Cap for navigation. I have no idea why American Airlines were the ones to do this. It seems random, but they did and it's there.
I thought I had the mountain to myself but noticed a guy sitting off to the side eating a sandwich. We took pictures for each other. While it would have been an even more surreal experience to have the whole peak to myself, it was nice to see another person and to be able to get a few pictures of myself that weren't selfies.
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| I'M ON TOP OF THE WORLD... I mean TEXAS! |
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| Beautiful view of El Capitan from the peak |
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| Obligatory summit selfie. |
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| Looking north from the peak at the rest of the mountain range |
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| Complete panorama from the peak. Southward facing El Capitan shows the vast desert and then looking north are the rest of the mountains |
The elephant on the mountain was that I'd have to traverse the two cliff sections yet again on my way down. The forecast for the day was windy in the afternoon. I had zero interest in navigating the drop offs with gusty winds, so I spent only about 10 minutes at the top - just enough to eat a sandwich while taking some pictures and admiring the view.
Hiking to the top of a mountain is weird. You spend so much time planning for it and hiking it, but when you get to the top, you spend as little time as possible there. Sure you feel elated from adrenaline and a sense of accomplishment coursing through your veins, but you have the desire to get back down as quickly as you can. It's strange. You still spend time soaking it all in at the top, but I think you need to get back down before you can really soak the whole experience in. Afterward, you get to ride the high for several days.
The Return
I started back down with the guy who was up there with me. We talked for a bit. He was faster than me, so after about 15 minutes of hiking together I said goodbye and wished him luck on his next stop - hiking the Grand Canyon rim to rim! I hate small talk, but I love it with fellow hikers. It is always interesting to meet another person from another place with another completely different life and bond over the same hike at the same place at the same time. It is like fate put you together.
Most people take less time going down, but it took me more time on my descent. My joints were hurting with every step. I took my time, utilizing my trekking poles to take as much weight off of my legs as possible. I took a leisurely pace and took in the breathtaking views. The views on the way down are always so much better because you are constantly looking down at everything. On the way up, you are more focused on finding the path, plus you typically have to keep turning around to see below you. There were a few times up near the summit where I started going down the wrong crumbly limestone path. However, unlike my fear on the way up, I did not stumble over a 3,000ft cliff. Instead, I would realize the path was less stable and move over to the real trail nearby.
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| The view on the way down of the southern side of the mountains. The top 1/4th of the hike gives great views of the vast desert. You can't see south of the mountain during the majority of the hike. |
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| Look closely and you can see the trail along the side of the cliff ahead. The bridge is towards the bottom of that section. |
When I got to the the first cliff section with the bridge, I was prepared. I went over the bridge and the rest of the cliff relatively quickly, focusing again on my feet and the cliff wall while talking to myself the whole way. It didn't seem so bad this time around. I had thought on the way up that it was the worst of the two cliffs, so I was relaxed after making it past the top cliff section. I maneuvered the windy ridges, which were significantly more windy, on the way back with ease. I really soaked in the views, taking many selfies, bubbling with energy, joy, and sore joints.
The midday sun was out. I took my hoodie off and put on my sunglasses. I had hiked the whole way up with the hoodie on. The temperature difference in the desert between the morning/night compared to the middle of the day is no joke.
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| I thought that was the peak behind me, but apparently not. Most of the hike shows false summits, and there's only a small part of the hike towards the end where you can see the actual peak. When I arrived at the bottom cliff section, I figured I'd be able to power through. I managed to, but it was 10 times scarier than it was on the way up. I must have been able to see more of the drop off down the cliff from this direction. Nevertheless, I talked my way through again and made it past. I was home free! It was all downhill and smooth sailing from there. |
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| Screenshot from my GoPro footage of the cliff section closer to the bottom |
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| I took several happy selfies on the trail on the way down. |
It is worth noting that while on the way up I had only passed a handful of people, on the way down I passed several people on their way up the mountain. I was surprised by how few people decided to hike in the morning and by contrast how many people decided to hike it later in the day. Some of these people did not appear to be prepared to hike a desert mountain at all, let alone in the middle of the day in the sun. One woman on the steep switchback section asked how close they were and was not happy about how steep it was. I had to bite my tongue to avoid asking her what she thought hiking up a mountain would be like. Apparently not uphill. I'm sure they turned around shortly thereafter.
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| Victory! 8.4 miles and 5.5 hours later |
Back at the Bottom
While this hike was definitely difficult, and I was too tired for any other major hike that day, I didn't think it was all that bad (physically that is, psychologically it was bad). This hike required no technical skills - no boulders, just hiking. Again, it was difficult, but I'm not sure that I'd call it strenuous. I'd rate it somewhere between moderate and strenuous. Had I been hiking in the dead of summer or going up in the middle of the day, it would be extremely strenuous. At the end of summer/beginning of fall and in the morning, it just felt like a good work out. I guess this hike could be anywhere from slightly above moderate to extremely strenuous/borderline deadly depending on the time of year and time of day it is hiked. The elevation is another factor to consider. I had come directly from northern New Mexico with an elevation around 7,000ft. I felt very winded when I was up there right after flying in to Albuquerque, but I had acclimated to a higher elevation by the time I hiked here. I did not feel any noticeable effects from the elevation. I'm sure had I not driven down the day before from a similar elevation, it would have affected me more. People coming from other parts of Texas with significantly lower elevations most likely have a hard time adjusting.
Judging by photo timestamps, I believe it was around 1:00 - 1:15 when I reached the bottom, completing my hike in about 5.5 hours. At the time, I couldn't figure out exactly how long it took. I knew it was sometime in the early afternoon, which meant I had done it faster than projected.
Check out my very long GoPro video of my hike on YouTube. It is full of bleeped out curse words and me telling myself not to look down over and over again while on the cliff sections. I included all the different sections and scenic parts, and I feel that it gives a good representation of the hike. Pictures and video never do justice, but I think the video gets you close. Plus, I didn't take as many pictures as I would have liked.
After the Hike
Upon my return to my campsite, I was greeted by my tent completely blown over. I got a good chuckle out of it, mostly because I was so happy that the random fence stopped it from completely blowing away. Apparently staking tents is a necessity in the desert because there's nothing to block the wind from taking all of your things away with it. Strike 3 for desert camping. Camping (and certainly life as well) is not like baseball. You don't quit after 3 mildly uncomfortable experiences. I still had 3 more nights of desert camping left, so I learned from my one fixable mistake and moved on. After I put my tent back the right way, I picked up the largest rock I could manage and hammered the stakes in the ground. Lesson learned. That night, it stayed on the ground and I had a lovely, peaceful night.
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| Nice. |
Because I finished my hike way earlier than I thought, I was able to spend the rest of the day at a leisurely pace. I really wanted to hike the Devil's Hall trail, but that hike is a strenuous scramble through a slot canyon. My joints were pretty much shot, so another long and strenuous hike was out of the question. I walked to the visitor's center where I spent a long time looking at the fossils and displays. I also took a short walk around the nearby Frijole Ranch area of the park (an old historic ranch site with a museum, which was not open at the time of my visit) and one of the nearby springs on the old ranch grounds. This was a neat little stroll, with areas of thick luscious vegetation around the springs contrasting the vast desert lowlands all around.
I went to Carlsbad Caverns National Park briefly in the evening (which I will talk about in the next post) and then off to sleep I went, ready to pack up and leave in the morning for Carlsbad Caverns again and Big Bend National Park.
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| A yucca plant, probably a soaptree yucca with Nipple Hill in the background (YES, that's the real name!) |
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