Enchanted Rock…or maybe I should call it Not-So-Enchanted Rock. If you’re from Texas, at one point or another, you’ve probably heard of Enchanted Rock. It’s right outside the very cute town of Fredricksberg, which is about an hour and a half northwest of San Antonio. (I say hours and not miles because Texas is so big that we measure distance in hours - not miles.)

While spending some time in San Antonio recently, my mom and I decided that we would venture out and explore Enchanted Rock. My mom did some research a few days before our little (mis)adventure. She read that it was a grueling 1800-feet hike and that it was best to get an early start. Alright so being the math people we are, we thought to ourselves…1800 feet - that’s roughly six football fields. We may not be one with nature, but we can do that. And this was just a rock - it couldn’t be too bad.

We went to bed fairly early Tuesday evening, and at 6 a.m. what turned out to be our not so enchanted day started. We arrived at Enchanted Rock State Natural Area at 8:12. Twelve minutes after the park opened and we were by no means the only ones there! Probably nine or ten groups of people were already there. The visitors station wasn’t even open yet! It didn’t open until 8:30. Maybe this should have been our first clue that this trip was not going to go as expected!

We got out of the car, found a self-pay envelope and like good little Texas citizens, paid our park fees. We then followed the sign that said parking. At the fork in the road, we were unsure which direction to go since the signs were lacking in detail, and took a right which turned out to be a mistake. (If you go, take the left fork since the parking is much closer that way.) When you take the right fork, you follow a little path that leads to a couple of parking lots. We parked, looked at the map and saw that we needed to take the Summit Trail. We headed towards the Summit Trail and our journey began.

We walked over this little dam and up some steps only to come to some restrooms, another parking lot, and another sign that indicated the Summit Trail was to the left. Well dang, we had just wasted precious energy because had we taken the left fork, we would have saved ourselves one of those football fields. Clue number two that maybe we should have just turned back then! Well we continued walking all the while kicking ourselves. Oh well, let the (mis)adventure continue! Almost immediately, we came to a little pavilion and about a thousand steps. There were probably more like forty but it seemed like a lot more. After trekking down the stairs, I made the mistake of looking back at all those steps and then I thought to myself, “Dang it! I just walked down those steps I’m eventually going to have to walk back up them.” That should have been our third clue that this journey was going downhill fast.

After looking back at the stairs, we turned and saw the beast that we were about to conquer, or maybe the better phrase is the beast that was going to conquer us. We continued onward. Things were smooth (not necessarily the ground but any who) for another half football field. My mom and I joked about how the stairs were the hardest part to get down. We saw tiny humans on top of the rock and looked at our watches. The park had been open for about 28 minutes now. Clearly if those people had made it that far in 28 minutes, we’d be up there in about 30.

And after that joke, one man went down or maybe I should say one woman. Houston we have a problem. It had appeared that my mom had stepped wrong and she couldn’t go any further or backwards. We debated as to what we should do. Finally we decided that by golly we had gotten up at the crack of dawn and driven an hour and a half, one of us was going to make it to the top - even if it killed us. Which was apparently what was going to happen.

After my mom and I parted ways, I discovered that my femur and my tibia could make a 90-degree angle. And apparently my femur and tibia could make this 90-degree angle multiple times. After hoisting myself up and conquering rocks half my size, I learned that a human could walk at a 45-degree angle for about thirty yards. But it was OK because I finally saw the top of this confounded rock.

Actually, it wasn’t OK. I wanted to quit and give up. But then this elderly couple passed me and I thought to myself, “Uh-uh - this is not happening!” So I picked up my water bottle and my camera bag and started again. As Dido sings, “I won’t put my hands up and surrender. There’ll be no white flag above my door.” I was not going to surrender and give up. I pushed forward and finally got to what I thought was the top! But no! I then saw the other top. I thought to myself, “Oh my goodness! This rock doesn’t come to a top!” I took a break and took a few photos - you know just in case I didn’t make it, at least my mom would have some photos of the journey when they brought my body back to her. Finally, I gathered my things and began walking up another forty-five degree angle except this time it was probably a sixty or seventy yard climb. But at last, I made it. I don’t know how but I did. I took a breather and relaxed some. Finally I was able to take in my surroundings and you know what?! It was freaking foggy and cloudy. My view and my hike again was not so enchanted. I continued to walk around the top and eventually the sun came out for a brief moment and I took a basic picture of me conquering this “enchanted” rock. I called my mom (yes I got pretty good service up there) and let her know that I had made it and was about to journey back down.

Now if I thought the journey up there was hard then the journey back down was even more challenging. It is downhill all the way but it wasn’t downhill at all. You see you can’t just walk straight back down the rock. No, no. You have to walk diagonally very, very, very, slowly. I’m talking slower than a turtle, or that little thing called gravity will get the best of you.

Well, I had successfully made it down both 45-degree angle journeys and was back to my land of gigantic rocks. My short, little legs did not like these rocks anymore than they liked them going up. I had about two rocks left before I was in the clearing, but sadly the second to last rock took me down. Unfortunately, my wrist caught me before I landed on my butt, but I didn’t let a sore wrist stop me. I continued onward. Things were going just fine until I saw the blood. I ran up those monstrous steps because I was sooooo down on sooooo many levels with this stupid, not so enchanted rock!

Finally, I greeted my mom at the pavilion and together we slowly made it back to the car - one limp at a time. Of course I had to mark this not so enchanted experience with a souvenir because somehow I had survived it. As I was picking out my souvenir (which ended up being a hat and matching shirt that I will wear all the time), I heard one of the checkout ladies saying that the hike was as she said, “It’s not simple but it’s doable.” I thought to myself, “Lies! It’s not doable; I almost died.” To the man who named Enchanted Rock, I will quote Inigo Montoya from The Princess Bride, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” Enchanted Rock was not enchanting, nor was it very doable.

I advise anyone who wants to take the daunting journey up the rock to bring lots of water, wear comfortable shoes, watch your step, pace yourself, go in the morning, and most importantly, don't give up. You will feel so accomplished afterwards.

Good luck and have fun exploring!