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.