GUADALUPE PEAK
8,749 ft.
March 28, 2003
By Tim Briese
Guadalupe Peak, the highest mountain in Texas, rises grandly above the West Texas desert in the Guadalupe Mountains, about 75 miles east of El Paso. These mountains are the remnant of an immense limestone reef that once formed here on the shore of an ancient sea.
I was on a Spring Break trip to New Mexico with my wife Teresa and daughter Emily in late March and thought that a side trip to climb this peak would be an interesting adventure. My plan was to leave them in our motel in Carlsbad and drive 60 miles southwest to Guadalupe Mountains National Park early in the morning to do the climb. There were a few obstacles to overcome, though. For one thing, I felt rather ill, and secondly, we decided to stay only one night in Carlsbad instead of two, meaning that I needed to get back in time for checkout at the motel at 11 a.m. The biggest problem, however, was the weather. The temperature was a warm 85 degrees when we drove into Carlsbad the afternoon before, but it was very windy and dusty as a vigorous spring cold front approached. A weather report that night informed me that hurricane-force gusts were ripping across the Guadalupe Mountains, only a few hours before my climb!
I rose at 4 a.m. the next morning and embarked on my adventure. When I stepped out of the motel room I was shocked to see snow swirling through the air! It snowed all the way on my drive to the Guadalupe Mountains, but none of it accumulated on the road, however. A successful climb seemed quite improbable at this point. I arrived at the national park at 5:15 and sat in my car and waited a few minutes for the arrival of daylight. There was an inch or so of snow on the ground and it still fell lightly from the sky. The surrounding mountains were hidden in low clouds. These conditions were a far cry from what I had hoped for on this climb! I had envisioned a warm-weather hike with great visibility to enjoy expansive views, but this was not to be. I considered turning back but decided that I would rather climb the mountain in poor conditions than not do it at all.
I parked at the trailhead at the west end of the Pine Springs Campground and walked over to look at the information board nearby in the faint early morning light. Numerous RV’s and tent trailers were parked in the campground, and I supposed that their residents would be shocked to find the coat of snow outside when they awoke. The elevation at the trailhead was only 5,750 feet, making this one of the lowest starting points from which I had ever begun a climb.
At 5:45 I struck off up the fine trail. I found it necessary to brush snow off the trail signs at junctions to find my way. Prickly pear cactus, ocotillo, and other desert plants looked strange dressed in a mantle of white. The trail itself was generally free of snow at the lower elevations but became covered as I went higher. The trail vigorously switchbacked up a steep slope out of Pine Spring Canyon and I was soon several hundred feet above the campground. Then the trail made an ascending traverse along the ramparts of a massive escarpment, with cliffs dropping precipitously away below at times. Occasionally I caught glimpses through the clouds of Hunter Peak (8,368') across the canyon to the northeast. The trail was adequate for horses to be ridden up, and in a couple of places signs warned riders to dismount and lead their horses where the route was especially narrow above cliffs.
At the top of the escarpment the trail turned to the west and switchbacked up wooded slopes on the north side of a ridge. Snow continued to fall lightly and visibility was generally limited to 200 yards or so. A chilly wind blew out of the north but it was not as strong as I feared it might be. I was able to advance upward rapidly since I was accustomed to hiking in the thin air of much higher elevations. The clothing I had along was barely warm enough for these conditions, for I had expected a much warmer day, but the exertion of the climb kept me comfortable.
After about three miles I reached a relatively flat area at about 8000 feet where a backpack campsite had been designated. The trail soon skirted above another cliff and crossed a narrow gorge on a nifty little footbridge. Then I began climbing long switchbacks up slopes that were covered with rock and grass on the southeastern side of what I assumed was the summit. Through the clouds I glimpsed the back side of El Capitan (8,085') about a half mile to the southeast.
At 7:35 I stepped atop the chilly summit. I was pleased that the four mile, 3000 foot ascent took only an hour and 50 minutes. The rounded summit was about 100 feet across, with grass, bushes, and a large prickly pear cactus growing there. There was a metal pyramid-shaped monument about five feet tall with plaques mounted on it commemorating the founding of American Airlines and the U.S. Airmail System. A summit register showed that this is a popular destination, with scores of entries during March, and seven visitors the day before. I supposed that views from this vantage point are probably spectacular on a clear day, but there were none today. Moderate snow swirled around me, borne on the teeth of a cold north wind, and the temperature was only 18 degrees. This had to be the coldest place in Texas at that moment, I presumed.
After about fifteen minutes I left the summit and began my descent. I rapidly hiked down the trail, carefully using my trekking poles to maintain my balance and to avoid slipping on the snow. My tracks on the trail from the ascent were already covered by fresh snow. My knees began to hurt painfully about halfway down the trail due to the rapid pace that I maintained. I flew down the switchbacks and descended back into Pine Spring Canyon. Just before I returned to the trailhead I encountered an older couple from New Jersey starting up the trail, the only other hikers I saw all morning. They were bundled up in warm REI coats and were contemplating an assault on the summit.
At 9:30 I tramped back to the trailhead and walked up to my car. Fluffy snow continued to fall from the sky. Several campers were hastily packing up and pulling out, as if in a desperate dash to a friendlier climate. I headed back down the highway to Carlsbad, looking forward to a visit of the famous caverns there with my family that afternoon. I felt very pleased with my accomplishment of the climb. It was a unique and interesting adventure, considerably different from my climbs in Colorado, and an outing that I would long remember.
