Sangre de Cristo Mountains – Woman Seeks Elevation

June 21, 2019

Borrego Trail: the power of the creek

“Is that the wind or the creek?”

“It’s the creek,” my husband said.

Sure enough, as we descended, the roar grew louder. A switchback, and the water appeared: wide, deep, fast-flowing. Froth built and dissipated around rocks. Butterflies darted.

One electric lavender butterfly swooped, landed on a rock and promptly disappeared, camouflaged by the mottled gray on the backs of its wings.

We turned from Borrego Trail onto Winsor Trail, which forms the spine of many a hike or bike ride from Tesuque to the Pecos Wilderness. We walked the Winsor for less than a mile, most of that in sight of the rushing creek, and all in earshot of it.

We emerged from a meadow at Winsor’s junction with our return trail, Bear Wallow. The relatively short distance and the creek make this a very popular loop hike, but we managed to snag a shaded log above the creek for our lunch spot.

A hiker and his dog approached the creek, the dog curious but hesitant. He lapped water, dipped his paws in, then retreated up the bank before returning to try it again.

Suddenly, he galloped away and leapt on us, desperate to sniff and share his wet paws. His owner apologized profusely. All we could do was laugh.

We hiked downhill to reach the creek, so there was no escaping the fact that the hike back to the trailhead was all uphill.

The temperature was in the low 70s, a good 15 degrees cooler than Albuquerque.

The landscape changed from the ponderosas around the creek to cool, lanky aspens as we climbed.

Still, I sweated my way up the many sunny ridges.

I find it harder to motivate for a climb when there’s a hot car waiting at the top instead of an overlook, but it was more than worth it to see and hear the creek’s power.

Hike length: 4 miles

Difficulty: moderate

Trail traffic: plenty

Wildlife spotted/heard: butterflies, hawk, cicadas

August 20, 2018

Hyde Park’s ridges look so gentle, but its switchbacks don’t feel that way

This is torture. With really great scenery.

I was navigating a mile-plus of extremely steep switchbacks up West Circle Trail in Hyde Memorial State Park.

There are strategically placed benches at a quarter-mile up the trail and a quarter-mile from the top. I took advantage of both, plus a rest on the ground.

As I pushed and pulled myself up the trail, yellow and purple wildflowers flashed by. Rolling green ridges stretched above and below. Glimpses of Santa Fe and the Rio Grande Valley began to appear.

My husband spotted nine horny toads. One was the big-fellow-in-shades-of-gray type we’ve seen so often around Albuquerque. The rest were thumb-sized, rust-red, barely distinguishable from the mica-flecked rocks around them.

The switchbacks mellowed slightly as we got closer to the top. A sign marked the 9,440-foot high point of the trail. A little further, two picnic tables and a jaw-dropping view into the Jemez Mountains, complete with its drainage network of ridges and canyons. We could see the Santa Fe Opera, Los Alamos and the brown snake of the Rio Grande. A raven ripped through the air just above us, cawing, wind whistling through its talons.

White structure at center of photo is the Santa Fe Opera.

My husband broke out the binoculars, sure he’d be able to spot his parents’ house, but a ridge blocked the view.

The steep descent took us past two yurts, a recent camping upgrade at Hyde Park.

We headed for a spur trail to a waterfall, hoping to catch it flowing, but red caution tape blocked the trailhead.

So we watched a Stellar’s jay and wound past campsites and over the world’s smallest creek.

The circle was complete.

Hike length: 4 miles

Difficulty: moderate

Trail traffic: light on West Circle Trail, moderate on rest of loop

Wildlife spotted: horny toad bonanza, Stellar’s jay, ravens

TIP FOR CAMPERS! Whether you get on the yurt train or not, Hyde Park has the prettiest, most well-kept campsites I’ve ever seen.

May 28, 2018

There’s still a river in the middle, even now

We drove the steep and winding road even though we thought the falls would certainly be dry.

But as soon as we stepped onto the trail, we heard it: the sound of abundance.

Water. Rushing, gurgling, bubbling water.

It was a rare cloudy day at Rio en Medio, near Tesuque. The trail wound along a mountain stream, bridged at times by slippery rocks or boards.

Wildflowers and wild roses, just beginning to bloom at the end of spring, lined the path.

This field of wild rose will be off the chain in about three weeks.

The trail headed gently but steadily up. Five members of our family ranging in age by more than 50 years climbed it. At times we all came to a halt in succession, without discussing it, to look at each other and take a breather, yet we set the fastest pace I’ve done on a hike in a very long time (I’m a slow hiker.)

About two miles in, we reached the little canyon leading to the waterfall. We gave each other a hand up and down rocks and tree roots, finding a comfortable seat to watch the falls. It roared down between towering rock faces. We waited out a large group of young people splashing in it while my husband and nephew scrambled to the top of the falls.

There was a single patch of columbine at the waterfall.

When the traffic cleared, I waded ankle-deep over moss-covered rocks to get behind the waterfall. The water shot out in an intense spray and pooled over my feet, absolutely frigid, despite the 80-degree air temperature.

We spent a good 30 minutes exploring at the waterfall, then walked back down the trail. We didn’t stop, but our pace left room to breathe in the blooming trees and bushes around us, to watch black-and-white butterflies and a mountain bluebird.

I just finished this book. What I learned, combined with the desire to get a picture for this blog, pushed me into the cold water behind the falls, where I didn’t even consider going the last time I visited Rio en Medio.

There with our family yesterday, I marveled at how cold the water was on a warm day. But it wasn’t until last night that I started to wonder what made it so cold, and long to go back, so I could climb to the top of the falls and explore its origin. My husband reported that the stream narrowed as the rocks funneled it over the lip of the cliff, amplifying its power. That helped me understand its force, but not its temperature.

We all know water in the desert is a miraculous thing.

Each time we see it in action, we learn a little more about why that is so.

Hike length: 4 miles

Difficulty: moderate

Trail traffic: moderate

Wildlife spotted: butterflies, Western bluebird, Say’s phoebe (?), crow, lizard or small fish in the stream

TIP! This isn’t an issue many places in New Mexico, but there are mosquitoes at Rio en Medio. I have long used a natural sunscreen that reeks of lemongrass and claims to be mosquito repellent. After returning unbitten while my hiking companions did not, I have to believe it.