The view from the top of Embudo Canyon astounds no matter how you get there

The trail runner leapt onto the rock wall and raced up. His feet met every indentation like magnets.

This is not how I tackle the challenges of Embudo Canyon.

To climb its sloping boulder-shelves, I requested my husband’s assistance from above. To descend them, I scooted down on my butt.

When we got to a black diamond section of very steep switchbacks, I stopped frequently, laboring to push myself up to the next rock. Later, I moved down the switchbacks only slightly faster than a glacier, crouching to keep my center of gravity low, contorting myself into any position that would put a foot in contact with something semi-flat.

I did this even though I’ve been hiking long enough to know that climbing or descending a steep grade slowly taxes your muscles way more than walking briskly down it, planting confident heels into the earth.

Sure enough, after I descended the switchbacks, my legs quaked like aspens and I still had two more miles to hike, including the boulder descent.

But.

I reached my destination, a ridge steeped in sun and wind at nearly 8,000 feet. One mountain range after another rippled blue in the distance: Manzanitas, Manzanos, Los Pinos. I’ve hiked them all and seen them from many vantages. But I would never have guessed you could see them all from so far north and west.