If you want to feel all of the feelings, go to Red Canyon

The sounds around me heal: wind rustling aspen leaves, birds chirping.

The sounds in my head tear everything apart.

What the hell is wrong with you today?

I trudge up the top of Red Canyon Trail in the Manzano Mountains. At least I hope to God it’s the top. Before today I’d only hiked down this trail, as part of a loop, and I now see why my guidebooks prescribe that.

I did a hike with the exact same elevation gain as Red Canyon Trail a month ago, but my legs are ready to give out. My internal monologue of judgment, though, has plenty left to give.

Leave No Trace it ain’t, but this bear art on an aspen lifted my spirits on that endless final trudge.

Many steep grades and grunts later, sky and a trail junction sign emerge.

My jelly legs deposit me on a shaded rock, where I meditate. I’ve never done that in nature, but I need to stop the runaway train of my brain.

My eyes only stay closed about three minutes, because I have, in fact, reached the Manzano Crest Trail, and I want to see the world around me.

My eyes open to another day than the one in which our hike began.

We shivered in a cold wind at the trailhead, breathed water-saturated air. An early-morning rain had bathed the mountain. Water droplets shimmered on spiderwebs and leaves and buds all the way up the dark canyon.

Here, in a Crest Trail meadow, grass glows in the sun, brilliant blue sky above.

Our original plan called for venturing slightly north to climb Gallo Peak. Climbing any peak is now a ludicrous thought.

All around us rise ridges that promise views of the valleys far below. We start up one, but the top’s not as close as it looks (it never is) and up is no longer a direction my legs will consistently travel in.

We settle into the meadow for lunch, looking into the distant Estancia Valley. When we came up here a year ago, the clouds were so thick we couldn’t see it

It’s not the first time this part of the Manzanos has touched off an emotional cascade in my brain, then brought me back to reality with its beauty.

I don’t know what it is about Red Canyon. I have hiked in many special canyons in New Mexico. This one stands out. It’s dark, walls rising high, a lush microclimate within. It’s steep, obviously. Its rock formations tower like ziggurats, dark gray stone shading to pink and purple on a wet day.