Guadalupe Peak in West Texas was my first true introduction to highpointing for highpointing's sake. The previous year, I had hiked Mt. Whitney in California with some college friends as sort of a "swan-song" of my college years (I'd just graduated with my Master's in Mathematics the month before) and of my life in California (I moved to Arizona three weeks later). Although the significance of Whitney's height was not lost on me, I did not harbor plans to do the state highpoints as a result of my climb. Instead, my hike up Guadalupe was more of a lucky set of circumstances as the result of a trip that I undertook in the summer of 1993.

Eager to get out of Phoenix, I decided it would be an interesting task to revisit all of the homes I lived in as a small boy while my father was in the Army. As a result, we moved often (relatively speaking), and before I was three, I had lived in Oklahoma (my birth-state), Texas and New Mexico, before moving to California for good in 1970. I had very vague recollections of our house in White Sands, New Mexico, but none whatsoever of our places in Fort Bliss, Texas, and Fort Sill, Oklahoma. My parents gave me good directions (as best they could remember) and with good road maps, I set out on my journey. From Phoenix, I made the unexciting and hot drive across Interstate-10 east toward Las Cruces, New Mexico. The Organ Mountains separate Las Cruces from White Sands, so I went through San Augustin Pass and revisited White Sands. It was certainly interesting. The house and buildings were vaguely familiar; the Organ Mountains even more so. Just down the road was our place in Fort Bliss, near El Paso, Texas. After visiting that, I headed out toward the Guadalupe Mountains and Carlsbad Caverns National Parks. The plan was to camp and do some exploring. I opted to stay at Guadalupe Mountains NP for no other reason that it was closer and probably less crowded. As it turned out, Carlsbad Caverns NP has no camping facilities at the park. Upon arriving at Guadalupe Mountains NP, I read the literature and was intrigued to note that Guadalupe Mountain was the Texas highpoint! Well, that solved that: I would take some time out and hike the peak early the next morning. I was lucky to get the last remaining campsite at the main camping area near the trailhead.

I got a very early start the next morning: I was on the trail before sun-up. No other hikers were to be seen, but I did see a number of deer out and about. I followed the main trail up the rocky face, up over a ridge, and along the long traverse through a very pleasant forest of juniper and pine. The trail crossed a wooden bridge spanning a narrow but deep chasm. Guadalupe itself was still obscured except for the last little bit. A few switchbacks later, I was at the top, about 2 hours after starting. I had seen no one, and I was the only one at the summit. I relaxed, looked out over El Capitan and the West Texas desert, noted the silvery pyramid at the summit, then started down. I passed a few hikers coming up, including one particularly attractive woman wearning nothing but a small bikini, and heavy hiking boots. I was back down to the trailhead and my car about 5 hours after starting, just as the temperatures were starting to get toasty. After a visit at the Visitor's Center, I resumed my journey through the back roads of West Texas toward Odessa. I was now an officially committed highpointer!