Stories of high altitude New Mexican adventures! Whether I'm ruminating on horseback adventures, motorcycle culture, homestyle gourmet, or choosing a career as a Physician Assistant, there's bound to be something entertaining in here… somewhere!!!
I consider myself one to take the road less traveled, and this meandering 7-mile “trail” ride epitomized the truth that not all who wander are lost.
All I knew is that I wanted to get out. By the time I had the horse in the trailer, I still hadn’t even decided which cardinal direction I’d drive. North? Could be. South? Not a bad idea. East? The thought crossed my mind. West? Probably.
Temperatures were rising out at the ranch and it wasn’t getting any cooler. The dog took a quick swim ‘in the pool’ to cool her jets, while I pontificated gratefully that literally any direction we’d go would hold a beautiful and unique adventure.
Got in the truck, turned the key. Foot off the brake.
There is a level of magic that happens when you take action, and for us the path unfurled as we moved forward.
We ended up in a forested, mountainous area with Pinon, elk and steep rock cliffs. No motorized vehicles allowed: my kind of place!
Watching clouds convalesce with my #1 cowboy horse Tracker
Up and down, up and down, we found 2 elk jawbone sets, 2 live elk cows, a hawk, and a deer. Scaled up steep washes and wound through tight aspen stands.
Also found this partial skull with antler roots still attachedAnd the jawbones
Like usual, I noticed the elk first; the horse Tracker noticed them next, with Junebug being last to the party — again. But Junebug produces the most EXTREME response to compensate. She chased the elk up the hill yipping and yawing like a wild ‘yote. She had her muzzle on the whole time so wouldn’t be able to mangle any wildlife despite her soul-deep desire.
#1 mountain menace
For the past few months I have wondered whether this horse is ‘directionally challenged’ or just loves to be out in the mountains so much that he refuses to go back towards the trailer.
Honestly it’s a relief to have a horse that doesn’t rush to get back home. If you’ve ever ridden a barn sour horse, you know what a frustration it can be.
But I was also starting to get concerned that if ever in a situation where I lost my bearings and needed to get back to safety, this horse would only get us more lost.
Countless times he’s insisted on going the exact opposite direction of the truck and trailer.
On this ride I finally confirmed my suspicion: he knows exactly where the trailer is… he simply insists on continuing the adventure!
So, as you can see from the map, I indulged him:
We climbed up and down some fun sand washes, traversed steep slopes, and gained expansive vantages.
It was a beautiful day to wander and get lost!
That’s one way to get your RDA of calcium, I guess….Backcountry and philosophical ethic: you can look back but you don’t need to stare.
“Essential workers” are, in general, coming apart at the seams by this time. It is July— 5 months in, and the pandemic is still blooming across America. The 24-7 news cycle seems to have been raised to the third power with the addition of social media, and its impossible for a busy worker to catch up with treatment recommendations, nonetheless to question and critically appraise any information presented by the CDC and other agencies.
So when my dear friend, also a PA, asked if I’d like to go fly fishing in the Rio Grande with her and her sweetheart, I… bit the bait!!!! Haw haw haw!! Of course I would like to go!
Anything to get AWAY from cell phone towers, AWAY from social media, AWAY from the news.
And let’s point positive. Anything to get INTO nature, INTO friendship, and INTO coffee!
We met up Sunday morning at a radio station parking lot, I ditched my truck and crawled into their Subaru next to 2 scrawny, jangling & bouncing, partially-deconstructed fly fishing rods.
Damn, I forgot my coffee!
Anyways, we headed north of the majestic Wild and Scenic Rivers, paralleling the Rio Grande the whole time, finally turning onto Sunshine Valley road, heading due West toward the river.
Now Casey, our fearless leader, wanted this trip to be somewhat of an exploratory mission. When I heard him say something about parking near a “boat landing” my ears perked up. For all the times I’ve adventured on foot and on hoof in this general landscape, I’ve known the canyon to be rather… well… canyon-y. It was really hard for me to imagine there being any terrain gentle enough nearby to be amenable to a boat landing!
And it turns out my instinct was right. We parked the car and got to the edge of the canyon and looked down the steep and mostly quite sheer 400-foot wall to the gentle river winding lacidaisically below.
After one failed attempt to scramble down a path marked with a modest-sized cairn, we thought better of the risk and decided to assess for other, more reasonable descents.
Cat country for sure, by the way!
Halfway down; some treachery behind us, some yet to come.
Anways, we found a doable descent and cautiously made our way down to the glorious lifeblood that is the Rio Grande.
Casey got straight to fishing while Kelley and I set up our packs in the shade. Instead of wasting my time trying to fly-fish and repeatedly only catching riparian flora, I brought other items to keep myself busy:
Binoculars
A rope
After repeated attempts to rope some rocks, (mostly failed), I headed down river to explore along the banks. Again.. cat country! I am absolutely convinced that the first mountain lion I see in the wild will be through my binoculars.
Well, not today I guess. But I did have fun experimenting with holding the binoculars up to my phone’s lens to make a janky telephoto.
Gnarled, mangled old juniper bones. Close up of a lava rockCan you see the profile of the ancient face?
By the time I finished up with that, Kelley had apparently overheated in her thick neoprene waders and was icing herself in the cool river.
Not dead, just stone cold chillin’
Of course Casey “almost snagged a monster” when neither Kelley nor I were there to witness it.
Sure, bud!
Monster search in process. Do not disturb.
We headed back as the cumulus clouds started to grumble and convalesce over the canyon.
And on our way up, we saw a dainty bachelor who had stopped for a nap on one of the canyon’s shelves. He was so obviously amused by our bumbling, awkward sure-footed ascent that he hardly even stood up as we approached. Apparently we didn’t present much of a threat.
Not intimidated.
Eventually he did stand up, but honestly he was just being polite. He spoke with his eyes: “you 3 are the least threatening crew I’ve stumbled across in my short time on this earth.”
Ok: Rude, but we get your point.
Despite our poorly evolved canyon navigation, we did eventually make it out, as you guessed: alive. And just in time really! Those cumulus clouds that had been boiling together began to crash and precipitate within minutes of our arrival back at the Subaru.
We throttled back up the long dirt road, out of the now gray and moody “sunshine” valley.
What an opportunity to thank the stars. My friends are top notch adventurers and giggle-generators. Nature brought me straight out of my worried mind and piqued the inquisitive, playful part instead.
A lot of whats going on with the pandemic, America’s truly absurd political scene, and the personal challenges my patients are facing is mostly out of my hands. That frustrates me because I like to think of myself as someone with solutions.
Only a few hours in nature helped correct my frame of mind. Witnessing how organically we navigated a challenging descent, and how we watched the skies to make the decision to begin our ascent taught me that the right action is best made in right time; with patience.
I’ll end with this quote:
Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.
Backcountry Cowgirl 