Wednesday August 13th: Our plan is to join Katie and family for an outing to a baseball game this evening. Clifford has an important call to make at a designated time, and we have errands to run, so we leave camp as soon as we can. It is a weird day where almost nothing goes as scheduled, except for Clifford’s phone call while I visit with Mom. A heavy thunderstorm changes our plans for the evening; no baseball game for us. Just as well, as I am feeling beyond exhausted as we drive back out to the campground. The thunder-storm left twigs, small branches, and old dead trees strewn about, as well as dampening everything inside the Pony around all the windows, which had been left open. It has been hot and dry since early July. How were we to know that today was the day that the pattern would change. Luckily we have dry sleeping bags in the Blazer; other than the pillows being a bit damp, we have dry sleeping accommodations.
Thursday August 14th: It is raining and pleasantly cool. After awhile the clouds part a bit, allowing sunshine to come and go throughout the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. I do a walkabout to take photos of droplets
before I set up a chair and table where I can look down the path to the creek.
I just sit, allowing myself to be nurtured by nature: a still pool of water,
trees and shrubs in many shades of green with leaves, needles, and fronds only gently stirring as little breeze fairies move among them,
the creek with its musical sounds, the sunshine coming and going,
birds chirping. I just sit and take it in. I write in my journal and then walk down to the creek to take more photos
Another walkabout browsing for June berries, more nurturing by nature.
Later, lying in the hammock, the thought crosses my mind that this is the way to have my body laid to rest rather than burial or cremation. No fear or pain this way. In the quiet of the moment I think sadly of my youngest son. What really happened to him I’ll probably never know – a burden of this life.
The afternoon brings a big thunderstorm. We stand under the awning relishing the power of nature and all the goodness of the rain, gathering several quarts of water as it runs off the awning to supplement our water supply.
Camping at Cabin City – June 29 – July 2, 2014
Clifford left on Friday to set up camp at Cabin City, luckily getting the spot we had had before that we liked, even though there were a lot of other campers here. He came ahead of me as he wanted to set up and participate in the ham radio field day on Saturday. He had a good time in spite of the rain and learned a lot about field day. There may be some interesting correlations with the chemtrail spraying and the ham radio signal quality and strength which would also apply to such things are HAARP frequencies, electromagnetic communications and weather control.
Since I’m still working at the store (Rocky Mountain Organics in Wallace, Idaho) I was not able to join him until Sunday evening. When I arrived, he had just gotten a campfire going – very nice, as the evenings do cool off and it had been rainy here much of the time since he arrived. Just as we got ready to have dinner, it started to rain again, but luckily it was short-lived and we were able to revive the campfire and enjoy heading out again. As the sun reached low to the horizon, the color through the overcast moisture-laden air created an unusual but lovely ambient color.
Ambient Evening Color
Monday was a gorgeous day… a wonderful sky with no chemtrails to mar the deep blue. An afternoon hike cross-country from our camp was sweet with the many blooming wild flowers: trillium, daisies, thistle, bluebells, buttercups, honeysuckle and others that I don’t their names.
Thistle Head
Clifford even picked a little bouquet of daisies for me which brightened our picnic table for the duration of our stay.
Daisy Bouquet
In the evening I played my cello outside, to the delight of the neighboring campers whose little daughter was learning to play the cello. As the sun went down, cool air moved in and another campfire warmed our evening.
Campfire
Tuesday proved to be another gorgeous day.
Gorgeous Blue Sky Day
We drove up the road and parked at the trailhead along Rock Creek, which might be more aptly called Brush Creek. Even though our entire hike was along the creek, we seldom saw it due to the dense brush. As we hiked, we saw signs of wildlife: elk and deer tracks in the muddy spots on the trail and recent bear scat and many overturned rocks, a bear diligently foraging for ants. I sang a little bear song and when the thimbleberry became especially dense, Clifford got out his harmonica and played a few tunes. I have never seen so much thimbleberry; it was thick and tall, frequently as tall as me, obscurring the trail. Hard hiking for me, but at least the trail was relatively level.
Thimbleberry
I especially enjoyed the many wildflowers. In addition to the variety seen yesterday, there was also brilliant red Indian paint brush, honey suckle, delphinium just beginning to bloom, and many others.
Indian Paint Brush
Honeysuckle
Once we were satisfactorily hot and sweaty from hiking, we found a shady spot under a big old douglas fir where we found seat-size needle-covered rocks and a respite from the brush and thimbleberry. We enjoyed a little snack of an apple and a tortilla while we rested in the shade. The mountains behind us and across the creek from us are steep and often rock-faced. Clifford talked about some of the experiences of surveyors in these type of conditions, both his experiences as a surveyor and the experiences of others, especially in the 1800’s when the idea from the “powers-that-be” in the east ordered the surveying of the west in preparation for the settling of the land, having no idea that some of this land could not be settled. Some very hardy brave souls had taken on the task of surveying and one has to wonder how many of them were injured or died in the process.
The Trail Along Rock Creek
Ice and food is running a bit low, as we had not originally planned to stay until Wednesday, but we come up with a good meal none-the-less and enjoy the evening by the campfire.
Wednesday morning – I make a little campfire, not so much because it is chilly out, but because I enjoy the comfy ambiance of it while I drink a cup of tea and write in my journal. Today we will have to pack up and head home to obligations, but we are grateful for the time we have spent here being in the outdoors and for the time to read, write, think, study, and meditate. And take photos, of course!
With a four-day weekend ahead of us, I get up early enough to have a quiet cup of tea before I start packing for our Pony (pop-up tent trailer) trip to Villanueva State Park, about an hour’s drive to the east of us. Looks like the snow that was forecast has gone somewhere else for the weekend, leaving us with just a chilly breeze, but hey, it is mid-February, and we are going camping.
I have most everything ready by the time Clifford gets up and then it is just a matter of breakfast, dishes, and the other last-minute things before we head out. We make a little detour to the Eldorado market for bread, wine, cheese, and a hot roasted chicken for lunch. After a easy trip down the freeway to Ribera, we follow a state highway that winds its way through the countryside and through several little villages, all of which appear to be suffering from lack of resources. About 12 miles in, we arrive at the Villanueva State Park, a well-kept campground along the Pecos River with trees all around and mesas flanking both sides of the river valley.
Pecos River Reflections
We find a nice site where we can park in the sun, sit in the shade, and see the Pecos River from our front door. We get set up and enjoy our now not-so-hot chicken.
Pony by the Pecos
This weekend we get to try out our little solar panel for the first time. We are hoping to keep laptops charged and have lights to read and write by in the evenings.
Solar Panel Reflections
We have hot tea, admire the view, especially the mesa, golden in the light of the setting sun.
Golden in the Last Light
In the evening I write in my journal and Clifford studies. After darkness covers the campground, we have dinner and soon it is time to head to bed.
Saturday morning I wake with the light and get out of our warm bed, surprised at how chilly it is. Taking a look at the min/max thermometer, I see that it is 16 degrees outside and 24 degrees inside. Brrrr…… I turn on both burners of the stove and dress warmly before heading down to the outhouse. Once back at the Pony, I debate with myself about having a campfire; I mean, 16 degrees is a bit chilly, but I want to be outside. I make a hot cup of tea and decide ‘yes’ to the campfire. I have been carrying a bag of little twigs and several pieces of firewood in the back of my car all winter just waiting for a chance to have a campfire while on an outing. Soon the campfire warms the air.
Hot Fire and Hot Tea
The breeze is variable, which means the smoke blows my direction no matter where I sit or stand, making it hard to get set up to write in my journal. I put journal writing aside and just watch the dancing flames, moving from one spot to another, adding a little more wood to the fire now and then, enjoying its warmth and the hot tea.
Once the sunshine reaches us, things change quickly. By the time breakfast is ready, it is warm enough that we sit outside to eat. The sky is a beautiful blue and we are ever so grateful to be here with the river, the mesas, the trees, the breeze, and the blue sky.
Blue Sky
We have a plan to get some footage of the Pecos River for the next video we are making to feature Ang’s (my daughter) writing on You Tube. Her short story is entitled “Old River Woman” which is about the Sun River in Montana. I have photos of the Sun River, but since we are not in Montana, video of the Pecos River, which is smaller but with similarities to the Sun River, can provide the visual as well as the sounds of a flowing river. I have the idea that I can wade a ways into the river so as to appear to be the Old River Woman as she is walking out into the river. Well, the Pecos River flows right out of the Sangre de Christo Mountains where there is snow, and remember, it is mid-February even down here in the valley. I wade out several times, only shin-deep, into the painfully cold water. But the vision I have of how this will look is not the way that Clifford videos it. In the end, it is a little adventure, but not a successful video shoot of the Old River Woman.
Ice Cold River
Getting back to the Pony, dry warm socks are very welcome. After lunch, I spend the rest of the afternoon editing “Opened Gates,” the third book of the second trilogy of the Novels of Shannon, written by Ang. This is a music theory weekend for Clifford; the chemistry and biology books and even the art supplies stayed home.
Clifford Studies Music Theory
The evening passes quickly and soon we head to bed.
Sunday: I get up about the same time as yesterday and it is not nearly so cold this morning, but windy. I decide to have a campfire, anyway, and as I sit and stand and walk around to avoid the ever-changing direction of the smoke, taking numerous photos of the flames, the thought occurs to me that taking photos of a campfire is a life lesson. Although I choose the paper and wood, apply the match, and push the button on the camera, I cannot control the movement of the flames and there is an infinite variety to how the photo will turn out. Even when the fire is providing ample opportunities for an interesting photo, if I am not focused correctly, the results will not be great. That is not to say that one must hang onto a certain focus – not at all; change focus, change vantage points, change field of view, experiment, but do it with a mindfulness that brings out the best in any given situation. And be willing to sit back and enjoy the campfire, knowing that flames are constantly in flux and so is life.
Dancing Flames
Today, even though it is warmer, we eat breakfast inside because of the breeze. I do some editing of Opened Gates before we go for a hike. Today we hike up to the overlook on the mesa to the east.
Hiking Up Loop Trail
One interesting spot along the trail is the stone enclosure for the sheep or goats of the people who lived here in times past.
Stone Enclosure
Instead of hiking the loop, the trail along the top of the mesa overlooking the river and campground below, which we have done several times, we go exploring the opposite direction, following a wide path that may have been a road at one time.
Exploring on the Mesa
Juniper, yucca, and dull reddish rocks dominate the landscape. When we return to the shelter, we have cheese and crackers for a snack before heading back down the trail.
View From the MesaPecos River Valley in Winter
Since I stop to take photos so often, Clifford gets ahead and then waits for me.
Clifford Waiting
After lunch, I continue editing while Clifford keeps on with music theory. Before we know it, the daylight fades, dinner is done, and we head to our comfy bed for a good sleep.
Come Monday morning, our time is more limited, so I forego the campfire. I make tea and write in my journal at the table until Clifford gets up. After breakfast we work on our projects, editing and music theory, for a bit and then head out for another hike. This time we are hiking up the El Cerro Trail, which takes us to the top of the mesa to the west.
Clifford on the El Cerro Trail
This is the first time we’ve been on this trail. Quite a different view and a really cool rocky outcropping where we hang out for awhile. Clifford plays his harmonica while I take photos, loving the beautiful blue skies this morning.
Harmonica ManExpansive ViewMesa Grass
Back at camp, we have lunch and all too soon it is time to pack up and head home.
Ready to Roll
We are grateful for the chance to get away from the routine, grateful for the great weather, grateful to renew and refresh ourselves by spending time outdoors. Before we arrive home, we are already contemplating where we will go on our next Pony outing.
It was exactly one month ago that we passed this way, camping overnight at the Three Rivers National Petroglyph Site, on our way to Carlsbad Caverns.
At the Petroglyph Site
It was my intention to do an inventory of the greeting cards that I sell at the Three Rivers Trading Post and Gallery, but the gift shop was closed both coming and going from the campsite. Cold wind followed us all the way south.
So, now a month later, with the temperatures moderating from what they were, we make another trip to Three Rivers, only this time we decided to go all the way into the Three Rivers Campground which is located at the foot of the Sacramento Mountains on the border of the White Mountain Wilderness. This is one of most favorite places to camp, and this time of the year, there is almost no one else here.
We arrive late afternoon on Friday and are greeted at the sign-in kiosk by John, the camp host, who has been here for 20 years. We met him on our first trip to this campground at least 12 years ago and as always, find him to be friendly and welcoming. We are sad to hear that he will be leaving Three Rivers in May. Very unfriendly federal regulations are changing the way things have been done, so John and his family will be moving on after all these years of service.
We get the Pony (our small pop-up made by the Palomino Company) set up before dark
Pony is Set Up
and soon the interior is arranged with sleeping quarters at one end, food, dishes, clothing, books, and laptops on the other end. In the middle are our table and benches, stove, and sink. We are set for a comfortable weekend.
The evening passes quickly with journal writing (me), studying (Clifford), and dinner. Before we head to bed, we spend a little time poring over the Adventure Atlas, seeing the many tiny green tents that indicate places we might want to visit someday.
Saturday morning, as the first light of the day wakens me, I get up, pull sweats on and a long coat, grab my camera, and head out the door. I first go down to the creek and am delighted to find water flowing.
The Creek Still Flows
A year ago Thanksgiving when we were here, the creek had all but dried up, thanks (but no thanks) to the drought in New Mexico. I tromp along the rock-strewn creek, crisscrossing by stepping from boulder to boulder, taking photos of reflections on the pools.
Reflections on the Creek
During spring run-off, the creek has more water and is actively tumbling over its rock bed, but now, it is a series of little pools connected by a gently meandering stream of water.
Then I follow a little-used gated road up to the top of a nearby hill. From here I have a great view all around: the White Mountain Wilderness to the east immediately behind the campground,
White Mountain Wilderness
the yucca-covered hill to the north; across the Tularosa Basin to the west are the San Andres Mountains – the barely-discernible pale strip at their base is White Sands Monument and Missile Range, while south looks at the foothills of the Sacramento Mountains across the plains toward Tularosa and Alamogordo. I am hoping to get some light on the mountains as the sun clears the ridge, but the sun is hidden behind a dense overcast when it rises from behind the mountain top. After a while I head back down, picking up a few dry twigs in case I decide to have a campfire later in the day.
Back at camp, Clifford is up and we chat with John about things we see going on in this country that could cause civil unrest, unless complacency wins out. After breakfast, we work on our projects before heading out for a hike. We hike into the wilderness, going in maybe a mile or so, enjoying the mild temperatures, the sprinkle of rain, the wildness of the landscape.
Hiking in the Wilderness
Sometime in past years, the gentle little creek has been a raging river tearing down the mountainside, displacing rocks and boulders and reshaping the land. At some point in time, a horrific wind has ripped through here snapping off dozens or huge pine trees. Today, there is only a gentle breeze and the creek is charming flow of water.
Gently Flowing Creek
We see lots of fresh elk tracks and come upon a recently dead elk, antlers still intact, though his flesh has been the meal for many a creature of the forest. Rather than being offended by the remaining smell, I try to see the cycles of nature in the remains. Other odd smells make us wonder if sasquatch live here. Hmmmmm…………….
We finish out the day with tending to meals and our projects, the evening project for Clifford being drawing and for me, writing and editing. Sprinkles of rain and the wind picking up make us very glad for the comfort of the Pony.
Sunday morning light draws me outside and again I hike up the gated road for the views and some photos of the morning light hitting a nearby hill and the San Andres Mountains to the west.
Sunlight on the Hill
Back at camp, I am reluctant to confine myself to the Pony, so I decide to make a campfire in the fire ring. A cheery campfire provides a warm spot to write in my journals while I wait the coming of warmth of sunshine. Beautiful cumulus clouds float against a blue sky, sunshine coming and going. After Clifford makes breakfast, it is all-too-soon time to begin packing up.
On our way back out to the highway, we stop at the Santo Nino Atocha Chapel, a remote Catholic chapel nestled in at the base of the Godfrey Hills, dedicated to the Holy Child of Antioch.
Santo Nino Atocha Chapel
I take photos of the chapel before heading on to the Three Rivers Trading Post, where I do the greeting card inventory. Then we head on down the road, arriving home after dark, already looking forward to our next road trip in the Pony.
Nambe Lake Backpacking Trip – 1,800 foot elevation gain, about 3 ½ miles each way.
Friday, September 21, 2012 – We arrive at the Santa Fe ski basin and are on the trail to Nambe Lake a little after 3:00. Uphill to the wilderness boundary – about 800 foot gain – then slightly downhill, descending 400 feet, to the Nambe Lake trail junction. At the junction, the trail climbs steeply upward over rocks and exposed tree roots, hardly a trail in many spots, steep and challenging.
The Rocky Trail to Nambe Lake
Alongside the trail, a wonderful little creek tumbles downhill over boulders, making little waterfalls here and there, quite magical in its descent.
Delightful Little Creek
Being as late as it is, we don’t have time to stop for photos or even for the break that I am needing. This steep uphill is challenging for me, especially with the pack being heavier – warmer clothes for the cooler temps. We finally, gratefully, reach Nambe Lake about 6:00 after 1,000 foot elevation gain. Nambe Lake sits in a mountain bowl with rock-faced cliffs on the east and south and with steep treed slopes on the north and west.
Nambe Lake – View to the South
Then we look for a campsite. We find one on a bench on the west side of the lake. The fire-ring is surrounded by fallen longs and we find a spot just barely big enough to set up the tent just outside the ring of logs. Clifford gets a little cook-fire going right away so we can heat water for tea. He is feeling a little dizzy and we figure having hot tea will be relaxing and refreshing.
Our Camp at Nambe Lake
Just before the sun goes down, there is a wonderful golden color on the cliff-face to the east. I get a few photos before the color fades.
Golden CliffGolden Reflections on Still Waters
We make raman for dinner with dried spinach, peas, and salmon added – much tastier and more nutritious than plain raman. After dinner and clean-up by lantern-light, we hang the food bag and then head to bed. I am sleeping in my bathrobe, warmer, but heavy to pack in.
Woke up in the night with painful cramps in my thigh. Happened several times.
Saturday, September 22, 2012 – Daylight and I wake up having no idea what time it is, so doze off and on several times before finally getting up. Gather some small twigs to start the cook fire. Clifford is soon up, so he takes the twigs and gets the little fire started. We heat water for hot drinks and have enough hot water left for our oatmeal for breakfast.
Heating Water for Hot Chocolate on the Cook-Fire
After breakfast, we hike around the lake. There is a really pretty campsite at the end of the lake, but someone was there when we arrived yesterday. They are gone now and we didn’t even hear them leave. This is where I’d like to camp if we make another trip up here. As we hike around this small lake, I take photos here and there of the reflections on the calm water and of the autumn colors.
Nambe Lake – View SouthwestAcross the Lake
When we get back to camp we have hot tea, do crosswords puzzles, Clifford reads and I write in my small backpacking journal. While Clifford naps after lunch, I do some editing – about 50 small-print pages of the novel “Emperors and Exiles.” Along with taking photos of the lake, the editing keeps me busy until dinner.
We go down to the lake outlet for more water as the sun is setting.
End of Daylight
The wind comes up, but we have a cheery campfire and a hot dinner.
Cheery Campfire
After dinner and cleanup, as soon as the fire burns down, we head to bed.
A wonderful Autumn Equinox day.
Slept better – warm in tent even though it is windy all night.
Sunday September 23, 2012 – I am up before Clifford and start collecting twigs to start a fire. He is up by time I get back from my wanderings. We get a fire started and heat water for hot chocolate. Blue sky is becoming obscured by hazy clouds. Still windy off and on. Oatmeal for breakfast and then wash up – head to toe for me after dishes are done. Start packing. Do another crossword puzzle and thought I would start reading the new Backpacker, but it is later than we thought, so we finish packing and head on down the trail.
Steep going down, but a lot easier than the going up. Part way down, the women ahead of us have taken a wrong trail. We continue on a ways, but Clifford is concerned, so we take off our packs and he goes back to see if he can find out if they are okay. He isn’t gone very long, as he as figured what they had to do to get back onto the main path along the creek. It is no wonder hikers get lost up here every year; the trail just isn’t obvious much of the time. On down we go.
Once we reach the junction, it is uphill to the boundary and then the last steep downhill to the ski basin, taking photos along the way. It is so pretty – I love the rocks and the golden-leaved aspen.
Trail of GoldColors of Autumn
Back in Santa Fe, we run a couple of errands and then Harry’s for dinner, sitting in the garden with all the strings of lights on. Very charming. So ends the successful outing to Nambe Lake.
A black pickup passes me on the dark stretch of highway between Sand Antonio and the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. It is not quite 6:00 AM and only the faintest light on the eastern horizon distinguishes the still black mesa from the almost black sky. I don’t drive too fast here as the road is narrow with no indication of a shoulder.
When I reach the Bosque del Apache Tour Loop, I drive out to the flight deck, which is my favorite place to set up camera and tripod for shots of the snow geese and Sandhill Cranes as they do their morning fly-out. I pull into the parking lot next to the black pickup that passed me only moments ago. There are only a couple other vehicles here at this time of the morning. The flight deck is reached by a little walking bridge that takes me to a platform over the water. I set up my tripod and camera in the dark, check the settings, decide on a high ISO setting, wide-open aperture, and no polarizer to get shots at first light. Then I wait patiently, sipping hot tea from my thermos, listening for the birds to stir and watching the slowing increasing glow on the horizon in front of me.
I am warmly dressed, as it is cold out here at this time of day -the water near the edge of the pond is frozen – but even so, my hands get cold as I take gloves off to handle camera dials. Soon more and more people arrive. Some, like me, come with cameras and tripods, others have point and shoot cameras, some just hold up cell phone to take photos, quite a few come with binoculars, others with dogs or small children. Old and young come here every morning to watch the natural spectacle of thousands of birds flying up from the yet dark and silent pond.
On A Golden Pond
Now I can hear the snow geese stirring. They sound like a bunch of yappy little dogs. Usually none of the snow geese flocks are close to the flight deck, but this morning there is a small flock not far out. The Sandhill cranes are way over on the other side of the pond, looking like black lumps as they stand sleeping with their heads tucked under their wings. The light from the still hidden sun brings a glow to the horizon, slightly illuminating the pond.
Snow Geese Fly-out
Then the yapping becomes strident and with a roaring whirr, thousands of snow geese rise up out of the water on the far side of the pond. The density of their wings and bodies darkens the horizon. There is not enough light to get good clear photos, but I shoot like crazy anyway, filled with unexplainable joy at the sound of this mass exodus from the pond. This happens several times as flocks of thousands rise up one after another.
Glorious Sunrise
The sky becomes a more intense golden color on the eastern horizon and the water on the far side of the pond takes on a deep orange hue. I can see the cranes still looking like so many black lumps out there in their orange pool. All over the pond, ducks are busily feeding, spending most of their time with heads under water and tails tipped skyward. By now I have changed my ISO and aperture several times in relationship to the available light. The sky pales and then right at the horizon an intense white glow signals the rising of the sun. A lingering flock of snow geese to the south of the flight deck rises with a whirr and crosses over us on its way to the feeding grounds to the north. They fly so close and fast, I am unable to photograph them, but I am thrilled to see their bodies glowing golden as the light of the just-risen sun catches them in flight.
Into the Light
Now I turn my attention back to the cranes, who, as they awaken, make a gurgling cooing sort of sound. The cranes begin walking slowly northward and as they cross the beam of sunlight reflected on the pond, I take photos of them. Now and then some of them take flight, but most are still pond-walking until they are out of my line of sight.
Two bald eagles are spotted in the dead tree across the pond from the flight deck. I change lenses to get a closer shot of them. I have seen them in that tree on previous trips to Bosque del Apache, but it is exciting to see them again. I know this is not the best angle to get a good photo of them, but it will have to do for this morning.
I take a few more shots of ducks bobbing about near the flight deck before reluctantly packing up my camera and tripod. Daylight is here, the geese and cranes are gone for the day, and it is time for me to head back to Socorro where Clifford is waiting. I am sorry he has missed this morning’s outing, but we will be back this afternoon to witness the fly-in as 24 thousand snow geese and over 11 thousand Sandhill cranes return to the safety of the pond for the night.
May 5, 2012 –I crawl out of bed as the sunlight reaches the top of the far ridge. It is quite chilly, but we decide to forego a morning campfire, since we will be hiking after breakfast. We eat our breakfast – granola, a smoothie, and hot tea- as we sit on boulders in the sunshine.
Yesterday afternoon Clifford and I backpacked in on the Borrego Trail to camp at the same spot we camped when we came up here in September. We had intended to backpack to Stewart Lake in the Pecos Wilderness, but found out just before we left that that there was most likely snow on the trail – over 3 feet just a couple of weeks ago and it has not yet melted off. So, we changed our directions and drove up Hyde Park Road behind Santa Fe to the Borrego Trailhead and hiked up the Borrego Trail instead. Uphill and down, I can tell that I’m not in as good condition as I’d like to be. At the Tesuque Creek crossing, the water coming down the creek was higher than I’ve seen before, so Clifford carried my pack over for me. Then we made our way off the trail and upstream to our campsite. We set up camp and soon had a cheery campfire going. Dinner was refried beans and raman noodles – easy stuff to fix and eat. After cleaning up, we enjoyed a cup of tea at our campfire. The moon rose full in the east and Venus to the west was hugely bright. Soon to bed in our new little backpacking tent – light enough to carry and roomy enough to get in and out of bed with ease.
Our Cheery Campfire
Now, with the morning sunshine warming the crisp mountain air, we prepare for the hike which will be cross-country using GPS and compass, with our destination being a small mountain meadow. Clifford has plotted a journey for us, but many deep ravines and steep side hills force us to change our directions. We see lots of deer sign as we make our way amongst tall ponderosas, dense scrub oak, and scruffy fir trees. Deadfall and good size rocks abound, making hiking challenging. Eventually we reach a ridge-top knoll where we rest on a big fallen log and enjoy our lunch of hard-boiled eggs, cheese, and an avocado.
Cross-country Hiking
Thanks to Clifford’s skills, we are not lost, even though we are a bit off our route. We soon drop down to the Winsor Trail for an easier route back to camp. The Winsor Trail traverses the mountain behind Santa Fe from Tesuque to the ski basin and beyond. As we hike along in the direction of our campsite, the trail crosses the meadow that was our destination. It is a lovely spot, more open than most of the terrain here, but no water for camping. Further on is the junction to the Borrego Trail which takes us back toward Tesuque Creek and our campsite.
Mountain Meadow
On the map, one can see a triangle created by the Borrego Trail, the Bear Wallow Trail and the Winsor Trail. Each leg of this triangle is about a mile, although the Winsor Trail goes on for many miles either direction of the junctions with the two shorter trails. The Winsor Trail is a favorite of serious bicyclists and hikers, while the Borrego/Bear Wallow/Winsor triangle is great fun for casual hikers and folks taking their dogs out for a good walk.
Back at camp, we lounge around for the rest of the afternoon, reading and writing a bit. I love the article in my Outdoor Photographer magazine, ”Realizations”, by Dewitt Jones, photography being a spiritual practice for him, which I totally relate to. I walk around taking photos of the creek, sunlight in the aspens, little red shooting-stars, and anything else that catches my attention. Clifford studies his new GPS unit, learning more about its capabilities. We are surrounded by tall ponderosa and aspens, and I marvel at their beauty. When the breeze picks up, these 80-100+ foot trees sway in the wind, and I hear one behind our camp making creaking sounds. Hmmmm…. Hope its roots are well anchored. As the sun approaches the western horizon, the temperature drops and once again we enjoy a lively campfire, a tasty dinner, and another night of sleeping where the sound that prevails is that of a rough and tumble mountain creek.
The Trees Are Tall
For anyone wishing to go backpacking or just a good hike, this is a great place. But please please please take all of your trash out with you. Keep this pristine area clean for the person coming behind you and for your next visit here in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains of northern New Mexico.
