Defining Beauty
The Great American Zig-Zag Day 276 | Big Bend National Park, TX
Throughout history, many have tried to define beauty. Romantics will claim it’s between the arms of their lover. Authors will write sweeping analogies comparing natural phenomena. Poets will draft lengthy prose detailing specific items which they find beautiful. Philosophers will argue about how one defines beauty and the ever-present disparity between those who explain beauty and those who experience it.
No matter who describes it, beauty remains a truly personal object, understandable by all, but visible only to the individual. I use the word beautiful often to describe the daily sights of my Zig-Zag because I have the heart of a romantic, the mind of a writer, the inspiration of a poet, and the encapsulating framework of a philosopher. Yet beautiful is beginning to feel stale in my writings. I crave better means of describing my surroundings beyond adjectives.
I considered this today as I gazed longingly at the mountain ranges of Big Bend National Park. What creates this overwhelming sense of beauty that screams desire into every neuron?
If we break it down in a literal sense, I witness the reflections of light across a textured surface. The complexity of the surface is the result of hundreds of millions of years of rain, snow, hail, wind, and other forms of erosion which both removes and deposits materials based on the chemical makeup. Some mountains in Big Bend are volcanic, others are sedimentary, all are ancient beyond human comprehension. When seeing a thing of such complexity, the natural response is to respect it. How does one respect a mountain? By appreciating it’s majesty and splendor. Each crevice, each hoodoo, each outcropping is something which has stood since before humanity existed. Before gods, before culture, before the car I drove to witness it. I can only consider it beautiful because no other word comes close to encompassing the grandeur. Even to consider it beautiful isn’t enough.
If we break it down in a historical sense, I hold strong ties between adventure and beauty as was reinforced in my childhood. I grew up on my father’s back as we did family hikes on local trails. Then when I could walk, I would toddle behind, taking my sweet time to run off on my own and continue the exploration. I was around 14 years old when I looked down at my legs and realized they were strong. Then I was running up mountains with my brother, climbing through storm drains with my friends, and hiking at every opportunity I could find. I find freedom in the exploration of the natural world, and mountains pose the ultimate risk and reward.
If we break it down in the emotional sense, I crave newness and nothing is more fresh than a mountain. No matter how many times a mountain is climbed, there can always be a new approach and a new emotion can be seen at the top. It’s a serious effort that inspires a lasting sense of accomplishment every summit. Each step strains my tendons and proves my strength, and when I reach the summit, it proves to me that there is no mountain too tall. I feel a deep connection to mountains for their steadfast presence in my personal rites of passage.
I respect the German language for having complex words to define complex ideas. Fernweh for example is the word that describes the deep yearning to go out in to the wide world, as far from home as possible. I pose the new word Ulterlime which combines ultimate and sublime to make a word that describes the feeling of overwhelming beauty in the face of intangible magnitude.
Okay, enough waxing poetic, let’s talk details! Big Bend is stunning. It has a semi-circle of pavement which is more than enough to see everything you need to see. My plan at the beginning of the day was to combine the paved semi-circle with the off-road semi-circle to circumnavigate the park. This ultimately failed because I drive a sedan, but if ever I come back to Big Bend, it’ll be in a Rivian (or whatever the next EV adventure brand is) so I can properly tackle the trails.
My path took me to the Rio Grande where along the way I saw a bunch of birds, a road runner, some geckos, and cacti galore. Last night’s drive was in the pitch black, so I didn’t realize I had entered an entirely new biome until last night. It always inspires me when entering a new biome because it’s a tangible border, not just a line on a map. It shows real progress and signals the impending end to my journey. Not many more biomes left before Washington.
In my attempt to off-road, I almost ran aground, but learning lessons from the last time I did so, I decided it was best to turn around. I got about 5 miles in before turning around. Which sucked, but it’s better than being stuck in the Big Bend backcountry. And I’m proud of getting that far on a trail with a mandatory 4WD sign.
I ran my battery damn near empty due to the lack of charging in Big Bend. All these high speed roads are tanking my battery life. I’m offended there’s a gas station in Big Bend but no charging stations. Get with the times!
On my route to Alpine and to my nightly ritual of writing in a McDonald’s, there was a border patrol checkpoint. I came across one last night on my way to Marathon, but it was a simple stop and go there. Today, the officer had a creepy smile plastered his face and started trying to make small talk. I’ll happily engage in small talk with any official because it gets me on my way faster (they find it suspicious if you’re too quiet or too talkative), but this guy gave off really weird vibes. He asked how I liked the park in between pointed questions designed to reveal if I was smuggling any illegal immigrants. I like to think I’m good at reading faces for ulterior motives, and I could tell this guy was wolfing (wolf in sheep’s clothing) hard. I got waived after about a minute of conversation and a strange final question of if I was a United States Citizen. I wasn’t asked for my passport or license, just if I was a citizen. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more uncomfortable in an engagement with the law, and I’ve been to Israel several times where the border patrol is MUCH stricter.
Shaking off the ick, I drove the rest of the way thinking fondly back on my excursion today. Sure I didn’t do any hiking nor did I see the night sky at Big Bend, but I saw all the primary attractions and got a sense of the back country. It’s surface level like with everything else on the trip, but I learned enough to know what I want to do if I return, like with everything else on the trip.