For most cinema fans, the 1976 movie Hawmps!— a comedy based on the U.S. Army’s attempt to use camels for transporting supplies across the Southwest in the mid-19th century — didn’t even qualify as a blip on their radar screens. Not so for me: As mediocre as it was, it inspired a childhood fantasy of riding these towering critters across the desert. I hadn’t yet heard of T.E. Lawrence or Paul Bowles when I first saw Hawmps!, but when I did, the images of their camel-borne adventures only served to further fire my imagination.

As with so many flights of fancy, though, the odds of ever fulfilling my dream seemed to shrink with every passing year — until I heard of a Texan named Doug Baum who was leading camel treks in the arid expanses of west Texas. And with no travel plans for Asia or Africa on the horizon, the nearly 460-mile drive from my home in Austin to take part in a trek didn’t seem all that much of a sacrifice.

After hours on the road, I arrive at Cibolo Creek Ranch, a 30,000-acre upscale resort and working ranch tucked into the rugged Chinati Mountains. As I head to the corral I find Baum, a cruiserweight cowboy in worn brush pants and a sweat-stained hat. As the number-one camel herder in the Lone Star State, Baum frequently works with church groups that need camels for holiday nativity scenes. In 2006, he led a 200-mile camel drive commemorating the 150th anniversary of the arrival of pack camels to serve in the U.S. Camel Corps in Texas. Kneeling near the corral are two of Baum’s prized pets: Gobi, a shaggy Bactrian (two humps) named for the Central Asian desert, and Richard, a dromedary (single hump) Baum describes as “a sweetheart, but a real space cadet.”

Warned by folks who have ridden camels in the Middle East about the animal’s nasty dispositions and the famously uncomfortable saddles, I begin to wonder if riding them could ever come close to my visions of O’Toole-inspired coolness. But my mood changes after Baum gives us a handful of hay to feed Gobi and Richard. Soon enough, the animals are literally eating out of our hands. A self-appointed camel “myth-buster,” Baum explains that most of the horror stories concerning camel treks and the animal’s bad behavior result from travelers who aren’t educated about camels and commercial operators who don’t pay sufficient attention to the animals’ welfare. “Most people think that camels are just plain stupid,” he explains. “But they don’t know. If you ask me, most camels are smarter than either horses or dogs.”

Given that Baum is a born and bred Texan, he doesn’t necessarily seem like the first choice to cast as a camel whisperer. In fact, it’s a calling that he almost bypassed as he pursued a musical career that carried him to Nashville, Tennessee, where he worked as a drummer in Trace Adkins’ band before the singer became a country superstar. Though he did line up studio work while waiting for Adkins’ big break, Baum still had time on his hands, especially during the day. So he decided to volunteer to do chores at the Nashville Zoo and — you guessed it — wound up caring for the zoo’s camels.

Soon smitten with the animals, Baum started his own herd when he returned to Texas in the early 1990s; he used the camel dealer who had supplied the mammals to the Nashville Zoo. In the process, he says, “I stumbled upon the history of the U.S. Camel Corps and thought ‘this is what I have to do.’ ” In 1995, the Texas Camel Corps was born.

We’ve finished brushing Gobi and Richard, and as we ready them for the improvised pack saddles Baum uses, I’m beginning to think of them as tall horses. Baum offers helpful pointers for handling the animals: “Koosh” is the command for kneeling, and they like to have their noses rubbed. It turns out that our journey into the outback of the Big Bend Region will feature as much walking as riding, in partial deference to the mountainous terrain, since the highest Chinati peaks rise to altitudes of 6,000 feet or more. The Bedouins of the Sinai, Baum explains, generally walk their camels over high hills and dunes in the desert instead of riding them. It puts less stress on the camels, allowing them to carry more stuff, and, as I will shortly find out, it spares travelers from the rigors of balancing on the camels’ lumpy, humpy backs.

We depart on foot from the Cibolo Creek administrative offices and the restored El Fortin del Cibolo (“the fort of the buffalo,” built in 1857). Heading uphill, we gradually leave behind the leafy emerald cottonwoods of the spring-fed bottomlands, climbing out of the arroyo past thorny mesquite trees, cactus, and a dangerous-looking yucca plant called Spanish dagger. Wildlife, particularly of the avian variety, is abundant as well — among the many species we spy are yellow-bellied sapsuckers, black phoebes, and noisy golden-fronted woodpeckers. With our beasts of burden in tow, Baum points out additional wildlife the casual observer might overlook, and he offers tips on how best to lead the camels, including advice on where to stand to avoid getting stepped on by their plate-like hooves.

That night, under a crazy quilt of constellations, Baum serves up a spicy southwestern stew of nopalito (cactus) and sausage. The stories keep coming as he explains his interest in the various saddles employed by camel-based communities around the world. As we mop up the stew with thick flour tortillas, we admire the glowing formations of Pleiades and Cassiopeia. The tent is pitched beneath the boughs of an ancient oak. Gobi and Richard are lying down nearby, chewing their cud, and remain unperturbed when small, wild peccaries (also known as javelinas) come to drink from the seeping springs below.

The following day, the time finally comes to ride the camels. As I perch between Gobi’s humps, Baum explains that it’s just a myth that camels store water in them; they’re actually used to hold fat that’s burned when food supplies are scarce. My seat is a wooden-framed donkey saddle that has been propped up by pads along the ridge of Gobi’s spine. Truth be told, it doesn’t offer a particularly comfortable ride. Unlike guiding a horse, steering requires a direct pull of the reins back toward the camel’s body as opposed to across the animal’s neck, which brings pressure to bear on the bridle resting beneath the camel’s jaw. Thankfully, Gobi is a docile mount, and the view from the saddle offers a panorama of the surrounding hills, including some elk and bison that have been stocked on the ranch. When it’s time to resume my perambulation, I utter the magic word, “Koosh,” and find myself being lowered to the ground like an Arabian prince who’s reached a caravansary.

Back in the lap of luxury at Cibolo Creek, other visitors are wide-eyed at our tales of desert adventure. I imagine we do sound a little loony as we prattle on about sweet Gobi and spacey Richard, and the guests are likely somewhat awestruck at Baum’s abiding knowledge of the desert landscape and its wild denizens. But no matter. The upshot is that while I’m not sure if it will be the Sinai, the Thar Desert in India, or somewhere else, one thing’s for certain: I’m saddling up a camel the next chance I get.

INFO
US Airways flies to El Paso International, which is 214 miles from Cibolo Creek Ranch and 250 miles from the Texas border town of Presidio. Local attractions include Big Bend National Park, the gallery-happy town of Marfa, and the McDonald Observatory.

Texas Camel Corps proprietor Doug Baum offers overnight ($650 per person) and 3-day treks ($950) in the Big Bend region of west Texas and the picturesque Monahans Sandhills State Park; expect a combination of hiking and riding. During the winter, Baum organizes 8-day trips to Egypt to tour classic destinations, including the Sinai, the pyramids of Giza, and traditional Bedouin communities.
254.675.4867
texascamelcorps.com

Cibolo Creek Ranch offers activities such as horseback riding, hiking, fishing, bird (and bat!) watching, target shooting, and stargazing. Spa treatments and massage are also available at the ranch, which has spacious, well-appointed rooms suited to the historic surroundings. Meals, included in the rate, often feature game dishes and southwestern specialties.
432.229.3737
cibolocreekranch.com

Photography by Kelton Morgan

Dan Oko writes about travel, the outdoors, and music. He is based in Austin, Texas.
Photography by Kelton Morgan