Order of Visit:  High Point #28

Date Visited:  January 27, 2021

Route Taken:  Black Mesa Trail from the Black Mesa Trailhead – 8.4 miles roundtrip

Type of Terrain:  The trail is mostly flat, with the exception of a the ascent up the side of the mesa that occurs about 2.5 miles into the journey. This climb up the escarpment is fairly moderate and it’s only about 0.7 miles long. Once you reach the top of the mesa, the final 1-mile stretch across the caprock has very little elevation change.

Elevation:  4,973 feet

Ancestral Lands:  Osage, Apache, Kiowa, Arapaho, Comanche


What’s in a name?

Although located in the Great Plains, Oklahoma is more ecologically diverse than more people imagine. The state contains 10 distinct regions, ranging from grasslands and prairie to mountains and subtropical forests.  

The state has three principal mountain ranges– the Wichitas, Arbuckles, and Ouachitas – all of which lie in the southern part of Oklahoma. However, visitors seeking the highest point must travel to the far western panhandle of Oklahoma, where the Rocky Mountains meet the shortgrass prairie. This area is covered with tall mesas, cones, and domes formed by the lava flow from this once volcanically active region of the North American continent.

The high point’s name, Black Mesa, refers to the feature’s physical geography. The term comes from the Spanish word mesa, which means “table,” and describes how the landform looks to the naked eye as it rises above the surrounding plains. 

A mesa is an isolated, flat-topped hill or ridge surrounded on all sides by steep escarpments. Most mesas feature a sturdy layer of hard rock, such as shale or sandstone, acting as caprock on top of the landform. When observed from a distance, this caprock results in its flat, table-like appearance.

Black Mesa is somewhat extraordinary because dark pumice and lava rock covered the feature’s surface 30 million years ago. This volcanic material created the high point’s blackish-gray appearance and visually descriptive name. However, before it was designated as the state high point in 1977, it was also known as Mesa de Maya on some maps.

In 1991, the Oklahoma Nature Conservancy purchased the mesa and established the Black Mesa Nature Preserve, which contains 1,600 acres and 60% of the mesa’s top (the remainder of the mesa rests in neighboring New Mexico).

Because of its remote location, Black Mesa is also known for having some of the darkest nighttime skies on publicly accessible land, which draws astronomy enthusiasts to it each year to stargaze and watch the Perseid meteor shower in August. 

Oklahoma has the distinction of having the only state high point atop a mesa. Once visitors reach the broad, flat expanse at the top, they can also easily walk into New Mexico, as the state line is just a quarter mile from the obelisk monument that marks the high point.  

I had a full moon for my nighttime visit to Black Mesa

TRIP SUMMARY

My visit to Oklahoma’s high point was part of a quick winter trip in early 2021. I was visiting family in Houston, Texas, and I thought, “Why not rent a car to take a road trip up to Oklahoma and Kansas’ state high points while I’m in this general part of the country?”

If you’ve ever driven through Texas to—well, just about anywhere—you know it involves a tremendous time commitment. Texas is a huge state, so I had some second thoughts.

After some careful deliberation, I decided that the more reasonable plan was to buy a last-minute ticket to Denver, Colorado. After all, Oklahoma and Kansas’s state high points are both less than five miles over Colorado’s eastern border.

My late January flight into Denver was uneventful, but it came on the heels of a big snow storm. So, I suppose it’s no great surprise to discover the roads along Interstate 25 were a bit of a mess when I arrived.

The peril of the slushy, icy conditions faded as I drove farther south, but my travel pace was much slower than I hoped. I’d originally planned to arrive at the Black Mesa Trailhead mid- to late afternoon, but I didn’t actually get there until just before sunset.

Evidence of the snow, even in Oklahoma!

I also had a bit of a GPS folly en route that wasted even more time. You see, it was only 300 miles from Denver to Black Mesa. While I chose the route that kept me on the interstate and bigger roads while I drove through Colorado, I didn’t pay nearly as much attention to the route once it entered Oklahoma.

Long story short: this was a poor decision.

Unless you want to drive an insanely slow 27 miles down a dirt road (aka County Road 8) at the end of your journey, do yourself a favor and do not set your GPS for the most direct route to the Black Mesa Trailhead as I did! Set your GPS to Kenton, Oklahoma, and then drive north to Black Mesa from there.

Approaching Oklahoma’s high point from the south (Kenton) will keep you on asphalt the entire way, AND you can avoid the hour-long drive on a desolate dirt road with no cell service. Plus, signs will direct you to your destination if you come from the south.

Signs to the parking area are only visible if you approach from the south!

Thanks to all these unexpected hurdles along the way, I didn’t arrive at the Black Mesa parking area until 15 minutes before sunset. If I wanted to reach the summit, I would have to do it in the dark.

Luckily, I brought warm clothes, a headlamp, and was sufficiently prepared for three hours of night hiking!

Posing by the sign at the trailhead at dusk

The area around Black Mesa was formed by volcanic activity in the region that stretches up from northern New Mexico into Colorado. Consequently, there were several other mesas in the vicinity, and I didn’t know which one I was headed too initially. Yet, the trial itself was incredibly easy to spot, and I was soon on my way.

Black Mesa Trailhead

In addition to the well-worn footpath, some green metal arrows were posted about 4 feet above the ground, directing visitors toward the mesa. These signs would become critically important later, but I don’t want to get too far ahead of myself yet.

Green arrows leading the way

There were also several wooden benches, confirming that I was on the correct path. Each one was spaced at one-mile intervals, and they had the relevant mile number carved into their backs.

I didn’t stop to rest at any of the benches on my hike because the temperature dropped quickly. It was barely 38 degrees when I arrived, and I needed to keep moving to keep myself warm as the sun disappeared over the horizon.

About 2.5 miles into the hike, the trail ascended the mesa’s escarpment (aka – its steep side). Most mesas look as if they go straight up, but the route here was pretty gentle. Perhaps it was the switchbacks made for visitors. Or maybe it was the fact that I was hiking up it in near darkness, which always makes climbs feel easier.

In fact, the only real difficulties I had on this hike were (1) the snow/ice remaining on the path and (2) the fact that I was doing this trek in very limited visibility. Otherwise, the quiet beauty around me made this a memorable high point!

Snow on the climb ahead of me.

When I reached the bench at Mile 3, it was pitch black around me. The top of the mesa was blocking the full moon, and the sun was completely gone.

In normal conditions, I suspect this bench is the one that gets the most use. It’s about 2/3 up the climb up the trail toward the mesa’s top, and the bench faced outward, providing views of the vast terrain to the west.

Bench at Mile 3 (on the climb up)

Once I reached the top, the final mile along the mesa’s caprock was virtually flat or at such a gentle grade that I didn’t notice it. With no more obstructions around me, the full moon illuminated the way. It was bright enough I even turned my headlamp off and walked in the natural elements.

About 80 minutes after leaving my rental car at the trailhead, I got to the monument in the pitch-black night. I could hear coyotes howling in the distance, and I shivered as I wondered if there might be mountain lions out here prowling in the dark too.

The summit!

The granite monument resting at the summit proclaimed that Cimmaron County was the only county in the US to touch four states (Colorado, Kansas, New Mexico, and Texas). And the monument also showed the distance to all four of those states’ high points on their respective sides.

I made it!

After a few mediocre photos of the monument in the dark and signing the summit journal, it was time for the 4.2-mile journey back to the trailhead and the warmth of the car. The wind was beginning to pick up, and the mercury was dropping closer to freezing.

Welcome to Black Mesa

The hike back to the parking area was mostly uneventful. The full moon was my companion the entire way, and I didn’t see or hear any wildlife other than the occasional howl in the distance.

It seemed to take forever to pick my way back down the snowy escarpment. But that was mostly because I didn’t want to slip or twist an ankle out here in the dark by myself. Then, I was back down on a flat trail once again making good time on the dark trail.

When I was a mere minutes from the parking area, I turned my headlamp off to finish my hike in the moonlight and stars. I was mentally celebrating my successful 8.4-mile night hike to Oklahoma’s high point.

And then I hit an obstacle. Quite literally!

I’d seen the dark silhouette of a green arrow ahead of me on the trail as I approached. But I’d forgotten this arrow was angled inward to indicate a curve ahead. Moreover, with my headlamp turned off to enjoy the night, my depth perception was less than adequate.

And so, as I tried to pass the arrow, the outside of my bicep smashed right into the metal sign, and the arrow’s tip punched a hole in my puffy jacket. The momentum of my brisk pace knocked me off-balance, and the sign ripped a 4-inch gash open on my down coat. In an instant, a plume of feathers went flying into the air, like evidence of a hungry fox snatching a chicken from a hen house.

I was physically fine, but the arm of my jacket was in tatters. I’d have to find some duct tape to do a hasty repair until I got home. Plus, I’d discover a nasty bruise the size of a lime on my bicep the following day!

Yes, Black Mesa was going down in my mind as a truly memorable high point.

The signs are so much easier to avoid at dusk than at 9pm! Trust me!!

DETAILS

When to Visit: This hike is open year-round. 

Getting There:  Black Mesa is located in the extreme western part of Oklahoma’s panhandle just north of the town of Kenton, OK (population: 17). The closest major towns are Trinidad, CO (65 miles to the northwest) or Amarillo, TX (160 miles to the southeast).

Entrance Fees: None. Black Mesa rests within the Black Mesa Nature Preserve, with no access restrictions or entrance fees.

Parking:  There is a gravel parking area near the Black Mesa Trailhead with room for approximately 15 cars. You’ll also find a vault toilet near the trailhead. However, there is no potable water, so make sure to pack your water bottle before heading out for your visit.

Benches are located approximately every mile of this hike

Accessibility: Access to this high point requires a moderately-long hike, and there is one big ascent to get to the top of the mesa. Visitors with the endurance to walk 8.4 miles (round-trip) will have relatively no problem with this hike.

Bonus:  In the 1980s, a track of 47 dinosaur footprints was discovered on the east end of Black Mesa. About 1/3 of these tracks have disappeared due to erosion over the past 40 years. However, this isn’t the only evidence that dinosaurs roamed the panhandle region:

  • In the 1931, a road construction crew discovered dinosaur bones about 7.5 miles east of Kenton, including an 80% intact skeleton of a brontosaurus.
  • In 1982, a flood in Clayton Lake State Park (just over the border in northeast New Mexico) uncovered some of the best preserved and extensive dinosaur trackways with over 500 dinosaur prints preserved sandstone.

Resources: