This is an essay that was originally posted to my website in late 2017. A continuation of my great hikes theme. Speaking of which, I just returned from another fantastic hike here in the San Juan mountains tody (8/1/20). That’s the theme of my next posting. CoVid-19 has made things strange this summer, fortunately I’ve got the hiking to keep me sane right now.

Word Count: 1,424

The Year of Hiking Spectacularly

(Part II)

I figured the hot streak I fell into with all the great hikes of 2017 (8/18/17 Website/Blog Essay) would come to an inevitable conclusion sometime in the fall. As the old cliché goes, “All Good Things Must Come to an End,”, and I didn’t think much of the pattern continuing when I told a friend of mine (& teacher at the local school) I wanted to go on a big hiking expedition for three days he had planned over part of the Thanksgiving holiday. Pleasantly enough, the lucky breaks continued, and besides that happening, I also came away from the experiences of 11/19-21/17 with a huge amount of fodder for the writing of this essay. “Life is almost too good” in this instance, and this was another classic example of the phenomenon.

My buddy is a huge geology buff, having earned his Master’s Degree in the discipline long before changing horses in the middle of the stream and becoming a teacher. As a result, hikes with him and his daughter clearly illustrate a unique personality trait. Right at the beginning of our first jaunt, his daughter made the off-handed comment that we’ve got a built-in tour guide for the next three days. At numerous times during our hikes I kept trying to stay within listening distance just so I could hear his impromptu lectures about the physical environment we were wandering through.

Granted, this wasn’t so easy to pull off since he’s one small step away from hiking at the same pace as another buddy of mine (sure footed to the point of making most mountain goats look like paraplegics). Meanwhile yours truly still has a small amount of nerve damage persisting from the broken heel he sustained four long years ago, and finds himself hiking as sure footedly as an eight-hundred-pound couch potato. Luckily, Northern New Mexico is at a slightly lower altitude than Silverton, so whenever I found myself doing mini sprints just to stay within range of my buddy, I’d catch my breath almost as quickly once I caught up.

Our first short hike was in and around an area just outside of Cuba, New Mexico. A moonscape-like environment replete with the occasional fossil, petrified wood remnants here and there, and broad wide-open views reaching endlessly onto the horizon. Right after our first hike I found myself hardly able to contain the sense of excitement when we stepped back into the car. This was my first indication the hiking hot streak might continue, and I began to wonder if it would last for the entire trip.

There are a lot of advantages to hiking in the desert at this time of year. For one, it’s nice and cool and it’s been fairly dry for the better part of the past two months. In other words, the threat of rain and suddenly getting caught in a flash flood was as non-existent as being abducted by aliens. Wait a second, the possibility of that phenomenon happening does indeed exist. All depends upon the person, the strength of their belief in UFO’s, or the type of mind altering drugs they’ve been ingesting at the time?

Dessert hiking in late fall has its disadvantages too. For one thing, the days are short and based upon how close you’re getting to the Winter Solstice, each light cycle draws to a close earlier and earlier. For this particular moment in time, the sun was already setting as we cruised through Albuquerque, and gave us just enough late afternoon daylight as we pulled into the REI store parking lot to purchase a few maps. Quickly rushing through the place too, since for people like myself and my buddy, spending all sorts of money you don’t have on outdoor gear in a store like this is almost too easy to pull off. By the time we checked into our hotel in Grants, N.M. for the night it had already gotten pitch black. Just enough time to grab dinner, take a few laps in the indoor pool, and settle in for the night.

Day #2 of the great late-Fall 2017 hiking expedition was probably the best. El Malpais National Monument/Conservation Area is sometimes referred to as the place where sharp lava meets smooth sandstone, and this unusual description matches its odd nature to a tee.

After visiting the Information Center to plan out an itinerary, we drove to the west side of the park where a short hike in the El Calderon area led us to the Xenolith Lava Flow Cave. A continuation of my spring visit to Carlsbad Caverns? Only in this case we had the necessary permit, LED headlamps, extra clothes, and the place all to ourselves.

That brings up another sweet advantage to visiting these national parks in late fall. They’re practically deserted if the number of cars in the parking lot at these sites is any indication (and it is-very few of them). During the entire two hours the three of us were walking and crawling our way deeper and deeper into Xenolith Cave, then coming back out, we only encountered one other group of people. Nobody else walking along on the trail either, which in certain respects is the way you’re supposed to experience these natural wonders. Contributes mightily to the “Wow” factor being even more intense.

That afternoon we drove to the opposite side of the Monument and made stops at three more incredible sites. the Sandstone Bluffs overlook of the valley where El Malpais sits, La Ventana Natural Arch (the largest sandstone span in N.M), and the Lava Falls Area, the southernmost extension of the monument’s rock flow when the volcano that created the site originally blew. Late Cenozoic-3,900 years ago, and relatively young as far as geological time goes. Each site incredible in its own unique way and well worth all the effort to get to them.

By the end of that second day the hiking trip could’ve ended and I would’ve been satisfied. At that point wasn’t it fairly obvious the 2017 hot streak was still in effect? Our final excursion the next day clearly illustrated that one more fantastic walking excursion was in the offing.

While growing up, I held tightly to this perception that so much of the desert environment in and around the four corners region was a veritable wasteland. Nothing to see since it happened to be this totally inhospitable moonscape; fit only for Ted Kaczynski-like Unabomber hermits, and cultural exiles-the result of prolific bullshit theories pertaining to Manifest Destiny. More than anything else, I came away from this trip with an altered perspective of the entire area.

I’ve made multiple trips to northern N.M. Chaco Canyon Cultural Site to see the Anasazi Indian Ruins, but never explored the adjacent Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness Area. My buddy and his daughter had explored the Bisti Badlands at an earlier time, but never the De-Na-Zin Wilderness area. That being the case, we drove to a non-descript parking lot leading into the site. What an environment too.

Northwestern N.M. is right on the southern edge of the Colorado Plateau, and the Bisti/De-Na-Zin Badlands is this incredible environment consisting of otherworldly rock formations (seeing those gigantic donut-like Hoodoos alone is worth the trip), vivid colors, and terrain that’s all part of the most striking of landscapes. Extremely deceptive when you find yourself wandering through it too. Initial appearances make you think the place isn’t all that interesting, but as the French often say, “Au contraire.”

When we hiked further and further into the De-Na-Zin, the more geological oddities we kept running across. Easy to get from one spot to another too as you cover ground at a deceptively fast pace. Which also creates perfect conditions for getting lost since you find yourself spending lots of time wandering around in this zombie-like trance. Although some people have accused me of acting this way on a regular basis, luckily that didn’t happen during our three-hour hike.

One of my favorite travel books is a volume by Patricia Schultz first published in 2003, “1,000 Places to Visit Before You Die”. As some people know, I’m a great fan of inspirational quotes and one of my favorites is a statement at the preface of the 1,000 places book, “Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.” This 3-day period in late November of 2017 was loaded with all sorts of, “Take your Breath Away” moments for me.