Big Bend 2025 Recap

Each December, the high desert of far West Texas calls us back. Big Bend Ranch State Park — often described as “the other side of nowhere” — spans more than 300,000 acres of rugged terrain, historic routes, and vast open skies. It’s a place that demands effort, humility, and teamwork, and rewards those who answer the call with solitude, beauty, and perspective.

This year’s Trail Warriors ride began one day early in Marfa, Texas, where riders arrived from across the region and gathered at a shared Airbnb for rest, relaxation, and conversation. This treat was possible thanks to CommuniCare which sponsored this year's trip. The night before the ride has become an important part of the experience — a chance to slow down, reconnect, and prepare mentally before rolling into the desert. Gear was laid out, bikes were packed, and stories were shared late into the evening.

Early Friday morning, December 5th, we loaded up and drove through Presidio on our way to the Barton Warnock Visitor Center, the gateway to Big Bend Ranch State Park. Because bikes were packed the night before, the usual parking-lot shuffle was minimal, allowing us to start earlier than usual — a small but meaningful win in the desert.

For me, this marked my 10th year riding Big Bend in December and my fifth year guiding with Trail Warriors, a milestone that carried its own quiet sense of gratitude. Riding alongside veterans from the Army, Marines, and Air Force, I was reminded once again how shared challenge creates instant connection.

The weather cooperated beautifully throughout the trip — cold mornings that slowly gave way to warm, sun-filled days once the light cleared the mountain ridges. Day one quickly put us onto the Crystal Trail, a ribbon of remote, technical singletrack that immediately set the tone for the days ahead. We explored the remains of an old mine, a tangible reminder of the region’s rugged past, and spotted several tarantulas warming themselves on sun-soaked rocks as we worked our way toward camp at Rincon.

As the miles added up, riders began earning what we jokingly refer to as our “souvenirs” — scratched arms and legs courtesy of the many sharp, overgrown desert plants lining the trail. In Big Bend, the vegetation doesn’t politely step aside, and nearly everyone carries home a few marks as proof of the journey. Support vehicles and volunteers met us at camp, cooking dinner and ensuring we were resupplied — a gift that never goes unappreciated this deep into the park.

Morning on day two arrived crisp and quiet. Before rolling out, we patched a torn sidewall on my fat tire using a military-grade car tire patch, the kind of field repair that only happens on trips like this. The route led us past ancient pictographs tucked beneath a rock overhang, silent reminders that people have traveled and lived in this land long before bikes ever did. As the day unfolded, hike-a-bike sections became steeper and more frequent, pushing us through chunky terrain toward our second camp. Once again, our support crew was waiting, and Jesse cooked both nights — always a highlight. That evening, we made the short ride to the Sauceda Ranger Station, where a hot shower felt nothing short of luxurious. As darkness fell, a brilliant moonrise and an expansive view of the Milky Way stretched across the sky, wrapping camp in quiet awe.

Day three began with refilling water at the ranger station before tackling the most demanding climbs of the route. The effort was rewarded with the best singletrack of the trip — fast, flowing descents that dropped us toward the riverbed near the Madrid House ruins. We reached camp with daylight to spare and hiked once more into the riverbed to locate and filter water from a spring. As the sun slipped behind the high desert mountains, coyotes and wild donkeys called back and forth in the distance, their voices echoing across the canyon. Another night of crystal-clear skies gave us yet another unforgettable star show.

By day four, the rhythm of camp life had settled in. Packing was faster, movements more efficient, and spirits high. After a few rocky descents, the route opened up into a fast, rewarding downhill stretch that carried us back to our vehicles before noon. It always feels like the final day passes too quickly — a reminder that while the miles may end, the impact of the journey lingers.

Big Bend Ranch State Park continues to offer something rare: true remoteness, challenge, and reflection. But the real heart of this trip lies in the people who choose to ride it together. Over four days, strangers become teammates, doubts turn into confidence, and shared hardship — scratches, climbs, repairs, and all — gives way to lasting friendships. Watching that transformation unfold year after year remains my favorite part of guiding.

We left the desert tired, grateful, and carrying a few well-earned souvenirs. Big Bend has a way of doing that — it never lets you leave unchanged.