Trail Just South of Ghost Ranch

Warning: This is a particularly long blog! In the late summer of 2007 Steve and I drove home from a visit with my family in California, and brought my brother Russ along for a vacation. I had discovered this trail in Abiquiu (Ab-ee-kyoo) on a drive with the brother of my oldest friend. Peter, who is a photo journalist, was one of my inspirations to start this blog. I was eager to share it with Steve and Russ, and to explore further in the remarkable rockscape.

Drive north on NM 84 past Abiquiu, making the obligatory stop at Bodie's General Store for munchies. Climb the switchbacks above the Rio Chama to the higher mesa of Abiquiu Reservoir. The lake can be a fun stop on a hot day, but for me is a bit too popular, and spoiled by motorboats. When you pass the turn for the reservoir, continue until you see the rust red rock wall pictured above. There is a small turnout just before this formation.

A narrow goat track leads up the face of the cliff opposite. That is the hardest bit of the entire hike. Really, if I don't find it too hard, it is quite doable for most people. The reward for the short steep trek is some wonderful views of the lake, the Pedernal, and much more.

Drawn upwards by the natural flow of the land, you find yourself in a jumble of fractured rock cleaved from the cliffs above. Then, through a notch, you spot your next goal.

This monumental lingam is irresistible; once you spot it you must climb it!

Or at least climb to its base. Here my brother is dwarfed beside this great finger of rock. In the future I will ask him about posting some of his pix of that day here. They are beautiful...I have camera envy.

Me blissing out in a shady wash, cloud gazing.

A storm was blowing in, the clouds roiling and piling up right on top of us.

But we continued upwards, undaunted.

Rusty loves dogs, and Cassidy loves being loved!

We came upon a tree like an embracing mother...

Russ is as much of a shutterbug as I am. We both took a lot of shots of this remarkable juniper. This is an especially good area for weather beaten arboles.

A winding arroyo led us higher into the rocky terrain.

I didn't notice the face until I viewed the downloaded photo.

Such an attractive patch of prickly pear cactus! I took a number of pictures.

I moved in for a close-up...

And wound up with a footful of prickers! Watch out for cactus and yucca while hiking. In a kicking contest they always win.

Steve was waiting for me to catch up in this perfect pose.

Someone lives here...maybe a pack rat.

Russ and Cassidy scrambled as far as the top of this ridge, but Steve and I opted to wait below. I'm sure more beauty waits further in, but that is for another day.

Twisted, weathered wood set against the warm tones of sandstone create new visions of nature's artistry at every turn.

In the later days of the summer monsoon season, wild flowers bloom everywhere in New Mexico. This is my favorite time of year here.

Here you see the Pedernal once again silouetted against the stormy sky. This distinctive mesa was a favorite subject of Georgia O'Keefe, who lived and painted in the vicintity. I have no doubt that she had also journeyed into this obscure but accessible area. By now the boys were getting a bit antsy about the approaching storm...they had hiked together on Mount Baldy before, and been chased down by lightening.

We retraced our steps, but it all seemed new in the completely different light. It had been hot and sunny when we had first started out. Afternoon storms are typical in the monsoon season, and can bring lightening, hammering "male" rains and hail; not something you want to be caught out in!

A yellow Mentzia, one of many lovely and varied xeric natives.

Back to the spire and its attendant jumble of broken boulders.

Russ got ahead of us...we discovered he had taken up residence under a small overhang, and become a yogic master since we'd last seen him!

Steve asked to be accepted as a disciple. As it was beginning to sprinkle, Russ took mercy on us and invited us to join him in his humble shelter. The rain steadily increased, and we knew we'd have to go.

Fortunately we had come prepared, and put on raincoats for the last leg of our descent.

By now the guys were becoming impatient with my slow pace and continual photography, but the rain had turned slickrock to frozen waves and I couldn't stop!

A giant's toes are just visible...reminds me of the rock creature in Hellboy 2.

More living rocks...I just love this kind of magickal place!

Down in the bottom of the gorge, the vegetation reponds to the gathered waters and extra shade. After a hike like this we sometimes have dinner at the Abiquiu Inn, which has slow service but good food and a nice gift shop. About an hour's drive north of Santa Fe, there are many beautiful places to explore off the beaten track in the Abiquiu area, and I plan to cover several of my favorites in future blogs.

Big Tesuque Creek

About a month ago, on October 9th, I decided I needed to get out and see some fall color. One particularly lovely day Cassidy and I hopped into Lola the Rolla (our van), and headed out to see what we might find.

The Scottish Rites Temple is a major landmark in Santa Fe. It marks the place to turn off horseshoe-shaped Paseo de Peralta, which encircles the heart of town, to go into the mountains. If you turn right after a couple of blocks, Artist Road will carry you to Hyde Park and the Santa Fe Ski Basin. But if you stay straight on Bishop's Lodge Road, you head towards the village of Tesuque (teh-soo-kay).

When I first moved here, fifteen years ago, I drove all over the area looking for our future home. Driving down this road, I was reminded of where I grew up in the Bay Area...it was similar to Woodside. In my naivete I thought that this was where I should find a house for our family. With a year-round flowing creek to nourish tall trees, I found this area extremely desirable. Of course, so did everyone else. The result is that house prices here are among the highest in the area. Multi-million dollar homes are common in this green belt.

Turning onto Big Tesuque Creek Road, you are enveloped in green as the road narrows. Homes are hidden behind coyote fences and stone walls all along the way. Some lie across the creek and have their own bridges.

Someone apparently found this sign offensive. I thought it was quite reasonable, myself, considering that the trail starts out in a narrow right-of-way bordered by private property on both sides.

A rustic footbridge crosses the creek, and you find yourself on a tunnel-like path between tall coyote fences.

Beyond the private property the trail goes up and down over the land. As soon as you move away from the riperian habitat creekside you are reminded of the drylands which surround it. Here a Yucca filimentosa nestles against a rock, enjoying the sun.

A sweet pond is fenced in to protect it from humans, dogs, and cattle. Much of the area you walk through at the beginning of this trail is a wildlife sanctuary which is fenced off and kept pristine. The trail continues up into the mountains for many miles, eventually reaching the Ski Area, although I only hiked in a little ways on this day.

Past all fences, with access to the creek at last, Cassidy takes a dip and a drink. This was one hike on which I didn't have to carry enough water for her, too. I should really get her her own backpack.

The trail climbed again up away from the creek, and out of the shade it warmed right up. I had to take off the light jacket I was wearing. A little ways up I ran into a woman hiker who was hightailing it the other way. "Do you know why all those bulls are up on the trail?" she asked nervously. Bulls? I didn't, but could hear substantial lowing just ahead. I opted not to go that way, followed her lead, and headed to a smaller trail that crossed the creek. There I met another hiker, a man with three border collies, and we exchanged our appreciation of our favorite breed as our dogs exchanged scents.

However, I don't hike to meet strangers. I prefer to be alone in nature. I decided to follow the water rather than the trail. This is a particular delight of mine, ever since, when we were children on family picnics, my parents would let my brother and I loose to explore on our own. We were instructed to only go up the creek and then back down, in order not to get lost. Rusty and I had fun hopping rock to rock as fast as possible, a skill at which he was always my superior. I don't rock-hop anymore...I pick my steps carefully in full awareness of my physical limitations. Still, creek walking is something I love to do.

A little way upstream I am rewarded by the sight of one of the most amazing trees I've ever encountered. I dub it the Flying Tree; it seems to be rushing somewhere, leaping right out of the earth. This one will definitely wind up in a painting!

The earth in this area was made up of a kind of conglomerate, possibly a mixture of volcanic ash and boulders, or perhaps sedimentary in origin.

We finally ran into one of the "bulls"...a lot of bull, as it turns out. In fact it was a little steer. We could hear many more nearby, and their fresh poops were messing up the landscape and polluting the pretty creek. This running of cattle on public land is a pet peeve of mine, although, having lost the megafauna which coevolved with the flora, I do admit that they fill a niche to a certain degree. I'd rather have buffalo, at least. Cassidy has learned to be cool around cattle, and at this point we agreed to head back.

The afternoon light as we retraced our steps lent a gauzy, fantastic quality to the scene.

Cassidy knows the way.

Although out of focus, there's an abstract beauty in this shot of Gambel oak leaves I like.

Looking straight up at Gambels, our native oak tree, which usually only get about 15' in height. These ones were very happy in their placement.

As we walked back to the car we passed rustic homes tucked into walled gardens, each one unique. I couldn't help but feel a touch of envy for those who were lucky enough to call this special place home. I love where we live, which is right next to the Santa Fe River, especially when the river flows. But that is less than half the time, since it was dammed for our water supply. If it ran all year long, as Big Tesuque Creek does, the aquifers would recharge, the large trees which died in the drought years would return, and the heart line of Santa Fe would grow to be as lovely as this tucked-away spot.