South Franklin Peak from the Transmountain road, El Paso

I was on my way to the Tom Mays unit of the state park, when I recognized this trailhead right off the Transmountain Road.  I had hiked this trail back in 2009 with Sadie, but it was called Smuggler's Pass back then.  It's now called the Ron Coleman trail, the same trail I was on yesterday.  This trailhead was the northern terminus.  A few cars were already parked here so I joined them, paying my $5 daily use fee.

This northern route to South Mont Franklin is the shorter route to the peak, but it is very steep.  It's also, I learned, a popular route to the rock formation known as "Mammoth Rock," visible from the parking lot.  It looks more like a tooth protruding from the ridgeline. This rock has a small cave facing the north.  Locals come to this rock,  eat their snack and drink their beer, and then spray-paint the rock and break their bottles.

The first half mile of this trail traverses the canyon bottom, but then takes a sharp turn to the southeast up the side of a steep hillside.  Here is where I had to slow down for the people ahead of me, people of all ages and sizes, and even a few dogs. Many spoke Spanish.  One grandpa told his family "Estamos en el tren!" as they descended an especially steep and rocky corner.

It's 1.5 miles to the Mammouth Rock.  I rested here, gave Zeke water, then proceeded to go to the radio towers on top of South Mount Franklin.  The trail from Mammouth Rock, however, is harder to follow.  So many unmarked trails converge at Mammouth Rock and I wasn't sure where to go.  I could see the cave I was in yesterday, but how to continue?  I wanted to reach the peak by any safe means.

I did eventually find it, but it was a steep, rocky and at times difficult for Zeke to climb.  The poor dog whimpered a few times when he couldn't scramble up a rock I could pull myself up and over, and he'd frantically run around to find a route safer for him.

Five other people were already near the peak.  They had come up from the south side.  The lone woman in the group said the chains were easy to maneuver.  They took photos of themselves near an overlook and I resumed my ascent to the radio towers.  The wind was back, blasting Zeke's fur and making my eyes water. The cold wind wasn't very conducive to resting.

We didn't stay long at the top.  The faint trail was too close to the edge and I didn't want Zeke to injure himself.  We went down the same way we went up, but shortly after passing Mammouth Rock again, I took a shortcut down into the canyon.  Others were coming up that way as well.  Another man down in the canyon, who later  turned out to be a friendly "Specialist Promotable" Matthew from Fort Bliss (who got to the base in October from Fort Drum) struggled on the rocks.

I met a group of German teens going up this steep shortcut.  Their father was stationed at Fort Bliss with the German Bundeswehr.  More people were continuing to hike up the trails.  This shortcut cut out a half mile and helped me avoid the crowds.  My total distance today was a mere 3.4 miles, but this took me four hours!

Matthew and I walked together for the last half mile.  I enjoyed his positive energy.  He shared some of his memories growing up south of Carson City, NV.  Once we got back to the parking lot, we bid each other farewell.  A Texas State Park ranger was watching trail users and making sure everyone was paying their $5 fee.  The parking lot was crowded, too, and we were now just past noon and at the height of hiking time.

A young couple approached me, asking me if I could break a $20 bill.  The ranger they talked to wouldn't give them any.  All I had were ten singles.  They gladly took the bills.  I felt bad I couldn't give them proper change.  They paid $10 to hike this short trail and I made a profit of $10.  It's not something I'm proud to say.  Hiking should be free.

I stayed in the parking lot a good half hour, drinking a Diet Dr Pepper and walking over to an historical sign on the eastern side of the parking lot, where also at least seven crosses had been erected.  Were these all in memory of people killed on the Trans Mountain road?  There was a cross for "Baby Angelo," a big cross for a Sergeant Barcellano, and a few more whose names were shrouded by heavy wreaths of fake flowers. I've seen some fast drivers on all kinds of roads in this city, and while the speed limit is 45mph on this mountain pass, many drive faster than that.

The day was still young.  It was early afternoon.  I wanted to see more of the old town near the border.  It's very walkable once one finds a parking spot. I had time to walk around old town and to enjoy the more historical parts of the city. The Deadbeach  Brewery off Durango Street in the Union Plaza neighborhood was one destination.  I enjoyed the beer from there that I had Friday night at the Bricktown Tap and Grill.  I wanted to see where it was brewed.  The small brewery is close to the Museum of Art, Museum of Texas History, the Convention Center and San Jacinto Plaza.  (I realize that my idea of "close by" is several miles; many others may disagree with my assessment.)

The streets were mostly empty on this Sunday afternoon.  The shopping district just north of the border crossing on South El Paso Street still had shops open, selling Chinese-made clothes and toys.  Police in pairs patrolled the quiet streets. Mexicans come to the United States to buy Chinese-made goods because taxes on Chinese goods are cheaper here than in Mexico.  I saw a lot of women's clothes, even padded buttwear, and tight jeans and snug tops, just like I see the Latinas wear in the high school.

People were still mingling in this district, and the heavy crowds that usually pack the streets in this district were not as bad as during the heavy shopping times on early weekend hours.  People made a wide berth around me because of Zeke.  The late afternoon sun helped shade most of the streets. I can see why my friend HollyO likes El Paso, a city she claims is "full of diversity."  The city maintains its Mexican history well.  And the food I've had here has been some of the best Mexican food around.  I wanted to find a small cantina and have another Mexican meal, but these were small, patioless diners that didn't allow dogs.

Then I had an epiphany: why not explore North Mesa Street, the main artery north of the University of Texas at El Paso (UTEP)?  Surely there must be a good diner there.  "Lucy's Kitchen" showed up on my Top Ten Best diners search, located on far North Mesa, but before I got there, spotted a Taco Tote, a local fast-food joint that originally started in Cuidad Juarez but which is now headquartered in El Paso.  I've seen several Taco Totes in town and wanted to try this place out.  Taco Tote also has locations in San Antonio,  Albuquerque, Tucson and Phoenix.  Its claim to fame is its vast assortments of salsas on their salsa bar, and its unlimitless chips bar.  Unlike Taco Cabana, another Texas chain, this company does not serve alcohol.

Stopping at this Taco Tote was a good choice.  Zeke was in the shade, parked up front, and I dined on their taco special: two tacos with my choice of meat,(chicken), with two sides and a soda for $8.50.  While the meat wasn't that much per taco, I filled up on chips, ate one taco and my rice, and saved the rest for after tomorrow's hike.

When I left Taco Tote, the hillsides were lighted in a bright orange, reminding me that I had 30 minutes of good daylight left.  I had to get back to the Scenic Drive in order to get a parking spot to watch the sunset.

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I managed a spot in the first parking area, walking out along the rim wall to take better photos of the skyline while also staying out of danger from traffic.  The parking areas filled up fast.  Families, lovers, teens like to gather along Scenic Drive to gaze at the lights, but then leave once darkness comes

I walked around the Bill Rogers Arroyo park at the base of Kern Hills, a very pricey neighborhood. Trails from private streets lead into the foothills, a privilege home owners surely take advantage of.  The rest of El Paso, I noticed, doesn't have very much green space or multi-use trails.  The population is condensed to the southern slopes of the Franklins and the vast valley south of the Rio Grande (Rio Bravo to Mexicans).  I even dared to drive around the gated community on top of the hill.  I was able to enter this privileged neighborhood because the exit gate was being repaired and the entrance gate was open to anyone.  How dare I spoil the riches with my humble Honda CR-V!  Some of the homes on this hill are insanely huge and are lighted at night like commercial property.  An electric bill for these residents perhaps isn't much anyway, compared to their gross income.  Huge houses are squeezed into small lots with tiny yards.

I then drove back to North Mesa Street to explore two beer bars that came up on my Google search: The Brass Monkey and The Hoppy Monk, both on Mesa Street.  I walked into the Brass Monkey and was immediately welcomed by the friendly bar tender, but a man at the counter warned me that "You can't find anything here for under $4.50 unless you like Bud Light or Coors!"  And he was right.  The only beer that looked interesting to me was a $9 Belgian Witbier.  I quietly walked out and then went to The Hoppy Monk up the road, another late-night pub open until midnight on Sundays.

I was impressed with the Hoppy Monk.  It's a family-owned pub  with a dog-friendly patio that serves only independent craft brewed beers, explaining in a print-out what breweries are owned by international companies.  I sat at the bar and once again got good service.  Zeke rested in the Honda. (It was in the mid 50s) The man next to me had just ordered a meal of fish and chips.  We ended up having a conversation about the current president.  Tom from Orlando, it turns out, is a rabid anti-Trumper.  He was here on business in Juarez and had come to the Hoppy Monk after hiking in the Organ Mountains near Las Cruces. Perhaps from too much beer, he began to rant about Trump in the most extreme way.  Articulate and passionate, he completely destroyed my image of the wealthy pro-Trump Floridian.  "Oh no, Florida hates Trump!"  I had two different beers and left shortly after he did, but would have enjoyed a deeper conversation about his political views.  He had majored in Economics and claimed that Trump's tax cuts would only depress our economy in a few more years, after Trump is re-elected.  Economies and recessions all run in a eight to ten-year cycle.

https://www.elpasotimes.com/story/news/2019/04/30/downtown-el-paso-garage-construction-stirs-debate-on-preserving-historic-views/3491337002/