Date: (1) December 31, 1999; (2) December 27, 2024 • Elevation: 7,192 feet • Prominence: 2,982 feet • Distance: 7.8 miles • Time: 4 hours • Gain: 2,490 feet • Conditions: Cloudy at first, then clearing

Texas • PB • LoJ

North Franklin Mountain is the highest point of the Franklin Mountains which cleave El Paso into two lobes, the main city to the west and south, and the Fort Bliss Army Base to the east. The peak is within the Franklin Mountains Park, with a good trail (an old road) that goes all the way to the top.

I was here on December 31, 1999, breaking up a drive to Big Bend National Park. I deliberately planned for a hike on the last day of the one thousands. However, I did not take any photos of that hike. Since moving to Bisbee a couple years ago, El Paso is as close to me as Phoenix is, so now it's not so far to get there. I decided I wanted to come back and redo the hike, almost exactly 25 years to the day.

First visit, 12/31/99: I was heading to Big Bend National Park, a place I had always wanted to visit. This was also to celebrate the momentous change when 1999 turned into 2000. I did not want to stay home or go to a street party. Instead, I would find somewhere in West Texas to celebrate the rollover, plus hike a couple peaks while at it.

Big Bend is almost 800 miles from Phoenix, so I broke the drive into two segments, staying the night in El Paso, roughly half way. I arrived on the 30th and stayed in the suburb of Anthony, planning to hike North Franklin Mountain the next day.

Today, the last day ever for the one-thousands, started cloudy and cool, but the clouds were thin mid-level clouds, not big stormy clouds. I could see daylight off to the west and hoped the clouds would scoot by as the day progressed. From my hotel, I drove 10 miles to the trailhead of the Franklin Mountains Preserve on the west side of the range, off the Texas Mountains Scenic Road (Loop 375). I paid a fee, parked, and got myself ready for the hike.

The hike itself follows old roads all the way to the summit. On the west side, the roads cut up across the headwall of a side canyon, switchback a few times, then come to the main range crest, roughly two miles from the trailhead and about halfway up in elevation. As I crested the crest, I heard what sounded like gunshots, but were in fact two bull deer locking antlers and having a tangle. I watched from a respectful distance. This went on for a minute or so and was quite exciting.

I continued my hike, now on the east side of the range where I had views east across the sandy Chihuahuan deserts of the Fort Bliss Reservation and beyond. The route to the top was the road, and there was even smatterings of snow from a storm a few days ago, and evidence of tire tracks, suggesting people drive up here from an entry-point unknown to me. I arrived to the summit after two hours, a flattened mountaintop with small communications boxes on top. The clouds began to clear and I had sunnier conditions.

From the top, I picked out the surrounding ranges, with the Organ Range in New Mexico being the most obvious. I spent about 30 minutes here, enjoying the views and solitude. I was surprised there weren't more people hiking today. My hike down went without any trouble, and I was back to my truck after about four hours on the route.

From El Paso, I continued east through Sierra Blanca into Van Horn, then south through Marfa and into Alpine. There was still the matter of a drinking establishment to decide upon. I found a nice-looking place on the main drag in Alpine, and after checking into a local hotel and cleaning up, went on down to the place (called the Railroad Blues Bar) and had a good time having a few beers, eating good Tex-Mex food and listening to a really good band. Alpine is a college town, but the clientele here was a mix of everyone, young and old alike.

At midnight, 1999 ended and 2000 started. The years starting with "1" had ended. The world did not end, though. Things were generally the same. I went back to my hotel and slept well, then drove down to hike Emory Peak in Big Bend, trying to start the two-thousands off on a good note.

Second visit, 12/27/24: I came back, driving out two days ago (Christmas Day) and hiking two nifty peaks in New Mexico: Cox Peak and then East Potrillo Mountain. I had planned to camp that night but the wind picked up and blew dust everywhere, so I got a hotel room in El Paso.

Yesterday I did a long meandering drive to Alamogordo, then back via US-70 to Las Cruces, tagging a few easy peaks in New Mexico. Back in El Paso, I had trouble finding my way back to my hotel.

They've been reworking Interstate-10, so many of the exits are closed, and those that are open just say "exit". The normal signs are gone, so I had no clue when or where to exit. I guessed, found myself on a frontage, and finally pulled aside to bring this all up on a map on my device. I was able to figure it out, but geez, what a mess it is. The highway people in Texas really need to do a better job on signing the exits, even the temporary ones.

Today, the 27th, I was up early and drove a few miles to the trailhead, the Tom Mays Unit of the Franklin Mountains State Park. I was the first in the lot, starting my hike at a shade after 8 a.m..

I followed the same route as I did in 1999. The route is an old road. Lower down, it is covered in football-sized rocks which made hiking a chore. About a mile in, the rocks cease and the tread is smoother.

The route makes long traverses before cresting Mundy's Gap. I met a guy coming down here. On the backside now (the east side), I stayed on the trail as it drops about a hundred feet, then makes a right onto a spur trail, the actual summit trail.

I met another hiker slowly making his way up. I stopped to chat, then passed him. The route seems to take forever, always one more turn, one more bump, one more switchback to go. But in time, I was closing in on the top. Hot on my heels was another guy making really good time. I did not want him to pass me.

I arrived on top at 10 a.m. and spent a few minutes looking around and snapping photos. The clouds had moved overhead, muting the light. Then that guy showed up and we talked. He even took an image of me, standing in front of Fort Bliss. I lived down there back in 1967-69, but remember none of it.

The weather was holding steady. It was chilly but not uncomfortable. I spent about fifteen minutes up top, then started down. I was happy to be back and happy to be successful. I'll admit I don't really remember much of the actual hike from 1999. It all looked new and vaguely familiar at the same time.

Going down, I passed a number of hikers on their way up, probably twenty in all. I was able to fast-walk almost the whole way down, the outbound hike taking me one hour and 45 minutes. I was at my car at noon.

Now, I just wanted the hell out of Dodge, or in this case, El Paso. The freeway confusion is bad enough. I got onto the right roads and located myself into New Mexico, where I got gas and snacks, then hit the road on New Mexico-9, heading to Columbus. I then followed routes into Deming and into Silver City to visit with this lady I met on the internet for a couple days.

I was happy to have hiked this peak a second time. That 1999 hike was kind of a big deal for me. That year had been a big year for me, not necessarily in good or happy ways, and my trip to Big Bend was a treat to myself, a way to ring in the new year and begin a new chapter of my life. This hike has always created a good feeling when I think about it, but it also bothered me that I was too lazy to take photos back then. Everything went well. I cannot believe it's been 25 years. Most of the people I passed on the trail today weren't alive in 1999.