Exploring Around Santa Fe

April wildflowers in SE Arizon

2010-05-23T08:40:00.000-07:00

Here is the next installment in my saga of our journey to see the spring desert bloom after our unusually wet winter.

I've decided to continue with the wildflowers, which means skipping ahead a bit, but might as well do it while all the plant ID books are on my desk! I'll get back to showing you the amazing Chiracahua Mountains later. As we drove into Southeastern Arizona, the spring show increased. The date of the photos in this blog was April 12, 2010.

Dessert Hyacinth (Dichelostemma pulchellum) also goes by the rather unfortunate name of Blue Dicks. I had wondered if these might be an allium, but a quick sniff revealed no oniony odor. I hate to pick wildflowers, but these were abundant in the spot we stopped, and the wind was blowing too strongly to allow a decent photo. What a lovely flower! I don't think it would do in Santa Fe, as it is supposed to be hardy to only 6000'. The bulb was used as a food by the native people.

Heading north on 191 after leaving Wilcox we began to encounter the most spectacular displays. Parry's penstamens were so abundant that we wondered if the highway department had seeded them!

Penstemon parryii with Desert Marigold (Baileya multiradiata)

We stopped the car several times as the diversity and beauty of the tapestry increased.

Desert Verbena (Glandularia or Verbena goodingii) in the foreground added a delicate touch.

Globe-mallow (Sphaeralcea spp.)

Desert Chicory and Globemallow cavort

I walk in beauty!

Wildflowers of Southwestern New Mexico

2010-05-19T11:37:00.000-07:00

Continuing the story of our trip to the bootheel region of New Mexico in early April 2010, after leaving the town of Gila, we headed south through Silver City. There we enjoyed a picnic lunch in their Central Park. It was a mellow scene, reminiscent of my childhood in the 50's. Families played badmitton, teens lollygagged...is that a word? After eating we headed south, through down-at-the-heels Lordsburg (the only lords are reputedly of the drug type) in search of an odd rock formation I'd discovered on Google Earth. The photo was entitled "Gaia's Brain". If you look in the New Mexico boot heel area carefully, you will probably find it, just make sure Panoramio is enabled.

We found the dirt road I'd aimed for, which heads due south from Lordsburg. However, there were absolutely no road numbers marked, so I was at a loss as to how to locate the spot I'd hoped to find. Without GPS capability, we never did discover Gaia's Brain. It didn't really matter. We had moved into a warmer region, and were beginning to see flowers.

The first blossoms I photographed were Spectacle Pod (Dimorphocarpa wislizeni), a particularly elegant wildflower easily identified by its distinctive two-seeded pod which resembled eyeglasses.

Close up of Spectacle Pod, a delicate beauty in the harsh desert.

Nearby I discovered a very prostrate variety of Scorpionflwer, probably Phacelia arizonica, growing beside the road.

Phacelia arizonica, revealing the enticing blossoms.

Soon we were seeing a particularly showy, tall white-flowered plant, which grew in the shelter of creosote bushes. I didn't expect to have any trouble identifying it, but later I learned to my chagrin that Desert Chicory and White Tackstem are nearly identical if you just look at the flowers. I'm guessing that this is Desert Chicory (Rafinesquia neomexicana), which is very widespread, and has slightly fewer petals than its look-alike. White Tackstem (Calycoseris wrightii) has a milky sap and tack-like glands on the stem. Unfortunately, my photos don't reveal these distinctive characteristics! If you can tell which it is, please let me know. Whichever it is, it's a beautiful, showy flower which was blooming everywhere from that point on through SE Arizona.

In the same area I spotted this Yellow Fiddleneck (Amsinckia tesselata). Like Scorpionflower, Fiddleneck blooms unfurl from a tight spiral, hence the common names.

Nearby were many specimens of another beautiful scorpionflower species: Phacelia distans. Please note that my identification of all these plants is based on research, not experience. Most of them were brand new to me. Again, if you know I have made a mistake in an ID, please let me know and I will change it.

Thinking I'd see more, and with Steve waiting rather impatiently in the car with the two dogs, I hurriedly snapped this shot of Morning Bride or Desert pincushion

(Chaenactis stevioides) which was waving in the wind. I never saw another specimen, so must apologetically post this slightly blurry photo. This plant was part of a community of about seven different kinds of flowers, all in bloom at once, clustered in the shade of a creosote bush.

Now we began to see Mexican Goldpoppies (Escholtzia californica ssp. mexicana), which cloaked the hills with a golden blanket. These are nearly identical to the Californis poppies with which I grew up, but are more yellow than orange, and a little smaller. We decided to let the restive dogs out and take a short hike into the desert.

It was quickly obvious that the plants preferred to grow under the mesquite and creosote, where they had some protection from the extremes of the desert climate.

We could see the mountains of Southern Arizona across the flat plain of what was once a great lake bed. Flowers were abundant after a wet winter.

The cloud cover kept the sun from being too intense. It was a perfect day, but I wouldn't want to try this in the summer!

Here's another example of a plant guild: Mexican poppies, desert chicory and scorpionweed all enjoying one another's company.

Another elegant wildflower: Gordon's bladderpod (Lesquerella gordonii).

We sat for a bit in the shade of a huge old Juniperus monosperma, the ubiquitous "Cedron" of New Mexico.

Mexican Goldpoppies & Desert Dandelions

Desert dandelion ( Malacothrix californica var. glabrata).

This is a young flower; mature flowers form a red dot in center. It's easy to see how this got its common name! As we walked back to the car to continue our trip into southern Arizona, I thanked my lucky stars that we had jumped on this opportunity to see the desert in bloom.

In my next post I will take you into the amazing Chiracahua Mountains of Southeastern Arizona.

The Gila River

2010-05-09T11:52:00.000-07:00

In the last entry, about City of Rocks, I mentioned that after leaving the rock city, we had gone on that night to find another place to camp. We headed for the upper reaches of the Gila River, beyond the town of the same name, as far upstream as we could drive. It was after dark when we arrived, so we just pulled into an empty camp site and slept in the car with the two dogs. In the morning we awoke to the sound of birds and the rushing waters just a few feet away. We emerged and hurried to discover just where we were. It was amazing!

We couldn't have hoped for a more beautiful spot, and it was free! We ate a little breakfast and walked around to enjoy the warming morning air. It was April 11, 2010. The cotttonwoods, which you can see in the distance, were just leafing out, while the Arizona Sycamores were still leafless.

The camp site was the beginning of a trail into the Gila Wilderness along the river. What a tempting route that would be! Quite a few cars were parked in the lot, their owners off exploring the Gila Wilderness area. It is a vast, wild region where wolves have been released, to decidedly mixed reviews. Some naturalists have suggested grizzly bears could also be successfully reintroduced here. It's a baby step towards Pleistocene rewilding...but where are the cheetahs we need to hunt the pronghorn antelopes? And where are our pachyderms??

I noticed a sweet fragrance wafting on the light breeze, and followed it to these shrubs. A large stand of them was perfuming the area. Fendlerbush, perhaps?

This camping area is just up river from the town of Gila, New Mexico, on the southwest side of the Gila Mountains. It would be a great place for a getaway.

A closed oxbow on the meandering river offers reflections on a quiet morning.

We passed through stands of towering Arizona Sycamores, my favorite trees of the Southwest. Their white upper branches positively glow against the deep blue sky.

Dock was already beginning to ripen its abundant seed. These seed heads ranged in color from light chartreuse through pale yellow, soft orange, peach, rose, and on to rusty burnt sienna. They were lovely, but this is my only photo of them, and it hardly does them justice.

Leaving the camping area, we drove back to town to look up friends. The verdant agricultural lands are watered by acequias which direct water from the river into the fields. My mother's mother's father lived in this village as a young man before moving on to California. My mom found him recorded as living here in the 1870 census.

From 1989 through 1994 the original Seeds of Change was located on one of these farms (although not the one shown in the photo). These connections draw me to this valley time and again. It is a little-known gem.

We spoke to a craftsman in town who was working in his yard to learn the whereabouts of our friend Lee (it's a very small town), and drove over to his house. The chairs situated to enjoy a view of the sunset with the gurgling acequia close by were enough to convince us we were in the right place!

Wild plum trees growing along the irrigation ditch were in glorious full bloom.

Lee wasn't home, but his neighbor, well-known herbalist Monica Rude, came out to greet us. We wound up getting much-needed showers and a tour; thank you, Monica!

Here she is in her greenhouse with starts for the garden well along.

Monica Rude is the proprietor of Desert Woman Botanicals. She creates powerful herbal tinctures which are available all over the Southwest. I particularly like her spicy cider vinegar. Because the summers in Gila can be scorching, she makes great use of shade structures in her garden.

The dappled light allows her to cultivate sun-sensitive plants such as comfrey, valerian, and echinacea, which would suffer in the heat here without this protection.

Berry really enjoyed the trip, and we were becoming quite attached to him, but it was destined to be a farewell journey. Soon after we returned I got a call from a woman who had seen my email about him. She wanted a dog to go along with her when she rode her horses. I took him to her and he was so good...he actually licked one of the horses on the nose! She took him and has been training him to behave on leash and off. Berry has found his forever home, a very lucky dog! And Cassidy and the cats are very relieved to have our house to themselves once again.

The City of Rocks

2010-04-17T10:48:00.000-07:00

http://www.gilawilderness.com/travel/cityofrocks.htm
http://www.emnrd.state.nm.us/prd/cityrocks.htm

Wherever volcanic ash has been transformed by time into the soft stone called tuff, wind and rain erode it into mind-boggling forms. The City of Rocks is one such spot.

Last weekend Steve and I took Cassidy and a dog we're housing temporarily (I think!) named Berry on a three day car camping trip to explore the southwestern corner of New Mexico into SE Arizona. It was just wonderful! Far too much material to cover in one blog, so I will present it in easily digested bits. This is the first.

Just like at Walmart, we were met by a greeter right after we got out of the car. This baby Western Diamondback Rattlesnake was coiled in the shade in the middle of a large flat rock...Berry nearly stepped on him in his excitement to be out of the car! I spotted him and shrieked to Steve to pull Berr out of the way. The dogs on leash rule proved to be useful in this case. Once the dogs were clear, I snapped this picture from a safe distance...gotta love zoom!

I had thought that snakes would avoid the area because of the number of people who hike and camp in the area. But we chose an outlying group of rocks for our first stop, much less visited than the main formation. The little viper was probably just recently hatched. Its defense, fortunately for us, seemed to rely on camouflage. So with heightened awareness of potential danger, we moved in among the rocks.

Wooly locoweed, a pretty legume toxic to grazing animals, decorated the knoll.

From this point you can see beyond the nearby rocks to the main formation beyond. Note our van, Lolla the Rolla, parked in the shade at right for scale.

Another high desert wildflower, Verbena wrightii, grows in Santa Fe as well. Note the nice gravel mulch. I try to emulate this in my xeric rock gardens.

Once we got to the main area and entered the rocks, we were quickly lost in a maze of stone-lined "streets". It's no wonder this place was named "City of Rocks". Beautiful oak trees took advantage of the sheltering rocks, growing larger than in the surrounding open land. It was a warm day, and the shade was welcome! Both Emory and Grey Oak do well here.

From a high point we could see the city stretching out before us, drawing us on. In this photo you can see another person on the right. As in Tent Rocks (previous blog), this is a popular place. I avoided taking pictures that included people, but be warned: this is not a place to go to get away from people! It's especially popular with folks with kids, since it is a fairly safe (we didn't see any more rattlers in this part) playground. Nevertheless, be sure children know how to identify and react to rattlers. And as always in the dessert, carry water. It isn't a very large area, but it's easy to get a bit lost!

We are guessing that these holes were created by Native Americans grinding acorns, which are abundant in this place. Can't you imagine the women kneeling on this stone, pounding away with dense stone pestles, gradually wearing away these holes generation after generation? They are space just right for a good gossip session.

As the afternoon progresses, shadows create fascinating patterns of light and dark.

Vertical and horizontal erosion are caused by the fact that the original ash deposits varied in density as they were laid down. Water moves horizontally through the softer ash, and vertically through cracks, creating a city-like grid. At every turn, alleyways beckon you to explore.

In spite of its position beneath a sheltering shrub, this delicate wildflower was blowing so in the wind that it was a wonder I could get any picture at all! This is a new one to me. Lovely! If anyone can identify it, please comment here or email me and I will insert the name.

Lichens paint these standing stones in shades of grey and chartreuse.

Steve and Berry, our foster dog. We're looking for a good home for this sweet young dog. Let me know if you are interested. He's a love!

A Yucca defends a low passage beneath a fallen monolith.

As the sun sank lower the lighting improved for photography. I love the golden grasses here!

Oak aglow.

This is the kind of vignette that inspired my Passages series of oil paintings. I show them on my other blog: www.artbymoria.blogspot.com

There is actually a camp site underneath the hanging rock...if you dare! There are over 60 camp sites around the perimeter of the formation, tucked into its flanks. A few tents were also set up within the rock alleys. Get there early or go on a weekday if you want to claim a site. It was pretty full, and only early April. Of course, the weather was ideal!

Agaves in the foreground, dormant ocotillos behind, in the botanic garden at City of Rocks. As you can see, this is a place well worth visiting. The negatives, for us, were that dogs had to be on a leash, and that there were so many people. Because of the crowds, we opted not to camp here. But the sight of children enjoying themselves in a natural wonderland was heartwarming. In my next blog entry I'll show you where we did camp...it was perfect!

Tent Rocks

2010-01-09T16:21:00.000-08:00

Just a half an hour south of Santa Fe is the geologic wonderland known as Tent Rocks. There is a useful site for this at:

Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument

which I recommend you visit before going to Tent Rocks, as the rules and fees keep changing.

Before this area was "improved" by the BLM, it was at the top of my list of favorite hikes. Now it is increasingly populated and subject to more and more restrictions. When we first started going there, about fourteen years ago, you paid a small entry fee and hiked. There were no facilities and almost no signage to find the place. Consequently it was often gloriously empty.

But it was too fine to remain undiscovered, I suppose. The last time we hiked there was on Valentine's Day 2009 (this is what Steve and I consider a romantic way to spend the day). Of course it was congested with many visitors, which might've detracted from our enjoyment of the place, except that everyone was in such a great mood!

In the photo above you can see the guardian at the gate; a strong ponderosa which has withstood repeated assaults against its root system by the annual flash floods which shaped the slot canyon above it.

I am always impressed by how this tree thrives in spite of its obvious struggle. Note the nice stand of native hardy manzanita to the right. This is probably arctostaphylos pungens, or point-leaf manzanita; I wish I could get it for my garden...it is beautiful! Together with a yucca these plants form a striking guild.

Here's a close-up of the plant. I believe it is relatively rare in New Mexico; this is the only place I have ever seen it. Like the other manzanitas (also called bearberry, kinnikinnick, or, in Mexico, pinguica) this plant has a myriad of uses. I once used uva-ursi tea to permanently cure a persistant bladder infection which had resisted repeated treatments with sulpha drugs. The experience made me a firm believer in herbal remedies, although I always do thorough research when using something for the first time.

Entering the slot canyon, you can see that Cassidy has submitted to the indignity of being on a leash. At the time of our visit, dogs were allowed as long as they were leashed. However, since visiting the site I linked to in the beginning of this blog, I have learned that at this time dogs are not allowed at all. That's why I advised you to check the site before going there.

So, without your dog, take this fantastic journey with us. Just try not to go on a holiday or weekend!

The rock is composed of volcanic ash, laid down in a series of eruptions 6 to 7 million years ago. The ash has compacted into the soft stone called tufa which is easily eroded into remarkable forms by water and wind.

In addition there are remarkable trees, also worn by exposure to the elements. These are predominantly junipers, with a few gallant ponderosa pines hanging on where they can find sufficient moisture. Pinon pines are also in the area.

Delving deeper into the slot canyon is like spelunking. The walls close in tightly around you, and you find yourself hoping it doesn't rain!

In this tight spot a huge chunk of tufa has fallen into the canyon, nearly blocking the passage. Actually, this is about as difficult as it gets. Any one with reasonable mobility can manage this hike. I took my mother her when she was over eighty!

After several hundred yards the slot opens up at the juncture of two stream beds. Mind you, this is the desert, and these are almost always dry. In the past decade we have suffered prolonged droughts in the area, as is evidenced by the dead trees you can see here.

The trail follows the stream bed uphill, winding through huge servings of soft dip vanilla ice cream. I'll shut up now and let you enjoy the uphill climb in peace. It takes my breath away (in more ways than one!).

When the wind picks up, the narrow canyon can funnel the breeze and turn a zephyr into a big blow. See the dust? This is why cowboys wore kerchiefs. I recommend wearing one as standard New Mexico gear, along with a wide-brimmed hat with a draw string and a water bottle on a strap.

It really was a perfect day, and this in mid-February! You might have noticed a bit of snow in the bottom of the canyon in some of the shots, but it was warm enough to hike in shirt sleeves, and dry enough to sit on the ground. That's just what we did while we enjoyed a lovely picnic lunch.

This is a good example of a volcanic bomb; a lump of molten magma which spewed out and solidified before it could strike the ground. The tufa is peppered with these boulders of various sizes. They protect the soft rock beneath from eroding, which leads to the conical formations. Many have tumbled off their delicate perches.

Looking down from the top, the canyon reveals its overall design.

And in the distance other formations beckon. Indian land surrounds this National Monument, and is not always available for hiking.

Here you can see the slot canyon from above.

In this kind of terrain it is very important to stay back from the edges. On one hike many years ago around the base of Tent rocks our little group came upon the body of a recently deceased grey fox. The poor creature had apparently fallen to its death from the cliffs above. Evolution in action.

A juniper is losing the struggle in this high, harsh location, yet is beautiful in its dying.

Soft ice cream cones? Or is there a more appropriate anatomical reference we could make?

This is the kind of place that inspires my paintings.

On the way down I fantasized that I was flowing like the absent creek.

And out!

Note the cap rocks. I just don't want to be there when they decide to come down!

If you still have some juice left after making the climb to the top, take the cave loop back to the parking area. It's worth it!

Did someone live here? It sure looks a lot like the rooms carved into the cliffs at Bandelier. That will be the subject of another blog, but basically: the Anasazi built multi-storied stone houses up against the cliffs, and dug additional rooms into the soft rock behind them. However, since this cave stands alone, that may not have been the case here. Unless it belonged to a hermit.

Here's another shot of that lovely manzanita. Check out that red bark! You can see why I like it. It has sweet bell-like flowers in the spring and edible berries as well.

A nice stand of grass, which I hesitantly identify as Sorghastrum nutans, or Indian grass. Grasses aren't my strong point, but I happen to have a specimen of this in my own yard. I got it when I worked at Plants of the Southwest, a very special nursery and great resource for native plant material.

My pals. You know Cass really dislikes the leash, but she loves to hike more than anything and is willing to heel if it means she can go along. It is very unfortunate that the BLM has decided to bar dogs from this wonderful place. I imagine it was because someone didn't follow the rule and a loose dog caused an injury to an innocent hiker. In a place like this a fall could be more than serious!

What a remarkable terrain! I'll be back, probably when someone visits and I want to wow them in a short amount of time!

One more thing I must mention. Tent Rocks abounds in Apache Tears. These are transparent droplets of obsidian. A sandy wash like the one shown above is a perfect hunting ground. Of course it is forbidden to collect or remove these little jewels, but very fun to find and enjoy while you are there. Just scatter them back where you found them. It's a great way to occupy children while you recover from the hike. I know this because our daughters were only eight when we first took them here!

This is a must see place if you are in the area for more than just one or two days.

De-Na-Zin Wilderness

2009-12-21T13:22:00.000-08:00

Beyond the Bisti Badlands, another, larger wilderness area stretches for thousands of acres across some of the most desolate land in the state: the De-Na-Zin Wilderness.

I was alone when I visited the Bisti Badlands, except for my dog Cassidy. After seeing my photos from that trip, my spouse Steve was eager to join me in exploring the area I had only glimpsed in September. So a few weeks later, in mid-November of 2006, we returned to see what we could find.

Only about 10,000 people a year visit the Bisti Badlands, not many compared to most parks around the country. But the De-Na-Zin sees only one tenth of that number. While both spaces seem empty, this area truly is. The two areas together cover 45,000 acres, and are contiguous. It is possible to hike from one end to the other, although you'd have to carry quite a lot of water. There are no facilities at all. Horseback riding is permitted, and it seems that would be ideal, if you had ponies rugged enough to forage in this barren terrain.

The De-Na-Zin lies upstream from the Bisti, in the same watershed. To say upstream is deceiving, as there is no water flowing in the dry arroyos. The area was carved from an ancient seabed by the glaciers, thousands of years ago. Here you can see the layers of sedimentary rock that were deposited on the floor of a vast inland sea that covered much of the interior of our continent during the Cretaceous period.

As in the Bisti, there are many petrified logs to be found here. I imagine these may have been species similiar to the cypress of the bayous of Louisiana, adapted to live in shallow water. Many have a similar shape, with the base of the trunk gracefully flared. Although we didn't find any, dinosaur fossils are also sometimes discovered here.

The eastern end of the De-Na-Zin is composed of colorful shales from the Kirtland formation. Further west and lower in elevation, in the Bisti Badlands, the Fruitland Formation is exposed. This is composed of sandstone, mudstone, coal, shale, and silt; a rich combination of rocks which respond in different ways to the persistent touch of wind and rain.

The basin receives only around eight inches of rain a year, and plant and animal life is scarce. A rare seep we chanced upon showed signs of life; bird, deer and coyote tracks in the mud. Such a water hole is a precious resource here. Cassidy, of course, drank her fill.

Bizarre hoodoos dot the trailess landscape. This is a designated wilderness area and very remote. A GPS is recommended, if you don't have a Cassidy.

In researching for this blog entry, I learned that we were not supposed to climb on the geologic features. I didn't see any sign stating this, and so I want to pass this and other restrictions on now.

No mountain bike or motorized vehicles.
No campfires, no collecting of fossils or petrified wood.
No groups of more than eight people.
No trespassing on tribal lands.
Grazing, scientific research, and commercial guides need permits.

I don't believe that our presence caused any harm to these features. We only climbed on ones that were solid. However, there are hoodoos and other structures which could be damaged that way, so please use good judgement!

Don't climb this one, for example!

Nor these.

I apologize for the smudged photo, but had to show you these formations regardless. Aren't they beautiful? It is an amazing place, and refreshingly devoid of trash, graffiti, and other reminders of "civilization".

For all of the variation in these photos, we were only there for a few hours. It would be wonderful to hike in and spend several days exploring. The light for photography would be much better near dawn and dusk.

Another hoodoo...love that word!

This formation was fascinating.

It turned out to be an enormous petrified log. Note the packrat nest in the end.

Here's another huge log. Steve has a reach of well over six feet, so you can see how big this tree was.

OK, I know now that this was a no-no. Very sorry, won't do it again!

We ran across some rock which evidently had a high iron content, to guess from the rusty coloration.

More wonders.

And more...

A perfect mushroom. This was taken in mid-November, so we were dressed for cold weather. Spring and fall are the best times to visit this area, as summer temperatures can soar to over 100 F, and monsoon rains or snow can make the dirt roads impassable. Hats are a necessity, and layers are a good idea. It's important to be aware of weather conditions.

A last look at some petrified logs before we headed back to town. It is a long way to go for a one-day trip( over three hours each way), but the nice thing about going with Steve is that we have good long conversations in the car. I can't wait to go back and spend a longer time there. We barely touched the fringe of this amazing place!

Little Tesuque Creek in the Mountains

2009-12-05T10:41:00.000-08:00

While my brother Russ was still visiting, we wanted to get in another hike, but to somewhere completely different. This time we went up towards the Santa Fe Ski Basin on Hyde Park Road. Beyond the park but before the ski basin we pulled off and walked up a little stream. Above is a photo taken by Russ on his Panasonic DMC-FZ8. I have three more of his shots at the end of this blog entry.

It couldn't be more different from the arid, rocky terrain of our previous hike.

This is one of the wonderful things about Santa Fe. If it gets too hot in the summer, jump in the car and head up into the mountains. The town is perched on the edge of the Sangre de Cristos range, an offshoot of the Rocky Mountains.

The mountains catch more rainfall than do the lower elevations, and support a completely different habitat. They are inhabited by a wide range of wildlife, including black bear, elk, blacktail deer, cougar, coyote, beaver, and many more. All I ever seem to see are squirrels!

I did spot this Bigfoot, spying out the landscape from a high vantage point.

OK, it was just Rusty Reindeer after all.

What a bit of moisture will do.

Remember, we are in the desert in Santa Fe, and this is only about twenty minutes up into the mountains.

The water in Little Tesuque Creek flows bright and clear year round.

This stream flows into Big Tesuque Creek further down the canyon.

Aspens are the pioneer species that first establishes in burned areas. They don't live very long, and act as a "nurse crop" for successive longer lived trees. Here you can see various conifer species beginning to return. This was shot by Russ.

I love this one of Rusty's photos, they way the wood echoes the water's swirling patterns. It is this kind of joyful dance between the elements that brings me back to experience the beauty in Nature again and again!

One more of Russell's photos. I love to sit in a spot like this...I completely lose myself in the mesmerizing flow of water. I go to this area fairly often, and am always renewed by the fresh energy of the forest. Let's hear it for negative ions!

Trail Just South of Ghost Ranch

2009-11-28T08:50:00.001-08:00

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

2009-11-18T14:25:00.000-08:00

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.

Bisti Badlands Part II

2009-11-13T10:34:00.000-08:00

Picking up where we left off in the previous blog about Bisti (scroll down past the next one to see it first if you haven't yet)...

And so the sun came out and the day warmed up at last. I was entranced all over again with the bizarre formations and roamed all over taking pictures with my little Pentax.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd been transported, like in some Twilight Zone episode, to an alien world. Rocks rose like waves, frozen into unimaginably delicate whipped froth.

And the beasts of the Bisti Badlands were everywhere, usually more humerous than frightening. If you click on this one to enlarge it you'll see what I mean.

Here's a great example of a disintegrated petrified tree, the vertical trunk fractured into fragments while the roots remain intact.

As the sun lowered in the west, the light kept getting better for photography. I needed to stay fairly close to the van. I didn't want to be out there lost in the dark!

I shot as late as I could, moving closer all the time to the sheltering cliff beside which I had parked, out of sight of the dirt road.

At last the sun set and I settled in for the night. It grew very cold, and I ate my simple supper in my sleeping bag inside the van. I soon fell into a deep and dreamless sleep. When I woke up the next morning I decided that I must've seen all there was to see of the Bisti. A fence stopped me from exploring further east, and to the west and north I could see the main road and distant buildings and power lines. I had read that this was a wilderness area made up of tens of thousands of acres, and, in spite of the natural beauty I had enjoyed, I was a bit disappointed. I decided to head to the larger part of the wilderness area, some miles east, called the De-Nah- Zin.

I started to drive back out to the main road, went about quarter of a mile, and stopped short. I was stunned by a sign and a stile marking the entrance to the Bisti-Denazin Wilderness Area. In my wonder at the landscape the day before, I had driven right past this modest parking area; the previous day's exploration had all been outside the actual designated site! I had another day I could spend hiking, and my time was my own, so I parked and hopped out with renewed enthusiasm. Cassidy, a bit confused but willing as always to go for a walk, led the way down the well-worn trail.

"Now Junior, behave yourself!"

We entered a large drainage basin shaped roughly like the upturned palm of a hand; the hand of one of the ancient Titans. There was a broad plain several miles in length, with finger-like canyons that disappeared into the higher land beyond. I knew I couldn't get lost; to return I could just head back downstream.

And there was indeed a stream, small and opaque, which thrilled the pooch. She can't pass a body of water without wanting to go into it. This one was no exception, and she came out pretty mucky and stinky. Although designated as a wilderness area, ranchers apparently are allowed to graze their cattle in the area. The creek was polluted. Crossing it to get away from the trail, we headed south and discovered...

...forms even more attenuated than those we had seen before...

...and wind sculpted hoodoos, while the evidence of a drowned forest remained all around us.

Exploring the flats we stumbled on these happy clams...or are they hamburgers?

With every step I discovered new delights. And it was practically deserted! I only saw one or two other people all day, though it was a weekend and a perfect day.

Then I spotted my first whole petrified log, perched on top of a mud pedestal. I had been to the Petrified Forest, in Arizona by Interstate 40. But there was a much greater sense of discovery here, where there were no trails to guide me, and no signs to interpret the sights, leaving me free wander and to speculate.

And so I sussed that when trees lay horizontally, they are not susceptible to the penetration of water, and don't break up with freezing the way the vertical ones do.

Which way shall we go? What a delight, to have such wide, trackless space to explore!

We found a beautifully preserved log in a sheltered nook and stopped for lunch. I had brought a bag of buffalo jerky, which proved to be the perfect trail food. Of course I shared it with Cassidy.

This side canyon was particularly beautiful, with many grand columns and petrified logs.

Everywhere we turned the beasts continued to emerge from the stone.

It was in that sacred canyon that I discovered someone had been moved to do ritual here. It seemed a fitting tribute.

In this close-up you can see how well the grain of the wood is preserved in stone.

At last it was time to turn back. I ran out of batteries for the camera just about then. From there I went on to De-Na-Zin, but was too tired to do much more hiking. However, I knew Steve would love this place as much as I did, and I planned to return with him just as soon as we could get away.

If you go, know that this is very, very basic: no campground, no water, no toilets. As you can see from the pictures, there is very little vegetation. Come prepared for desert hiking. Where a broad-brimmed hat, and

Cliff Swallows Inspiration

2009-11-13T09:09:00.000-08:00

If you head down Buckman Road off Camino La Tierra on the Northwest edge of Santa Fe, you will eventually get to the Rio Grande. Buckman is a dusty dirt road a bit more heavily traveled than most in the Caja del Rio area. It leads to the well-known Diablo Canyon, just before the river. Here you'll see fantastic cliffs covered with grafitti, a lot of broken glass and shotgun shells. I prefer less popular destinations.

As you drop downhill, you will see a great rocky cliff across the valley. This is made of cooled magma which flowed over the land in the not too terribly distant past, perhaps a bit over one million years ago. The magma poured over earlier layers of compressed volcanic ash, called tufa. Oxides have stained the rock brilliant reds, oranges and golds, with the slate grey basalt capping the massif.

Directly ahead as you descend is an intriguing cove, a dry canyon that glows in the sunlight. An old windmill marks the spot to turn off the main road, just where Buckman road bends down the valley. Ranch tracks will let you get closer to the cliffs. The biggest problem with this hike is the level walk across the flats, where invasive alien plants have established. These leave prickly stickers in socks and shoes...a pain!

The last time I went to this area, it was torn up because of work on the Buckman Diversion Project. They had put in a perplexingly wide dirt road going down the valley. I imagine the weeds will reclaim it in short order once the work is done.

This is a favorite nearby hike for us. We can get there in about twenty minutes. As long as it's been dry for a few days the road is passable. It is a rough uphill hike to climb the slope to the base of the basalt layer, but there are plenty of beautiful spots to rest along the way, and ample shade.

We usually climb the slope on the outer edge of the cove. While a steep climb, it is the easiest route up. The bottom of the canyon is filled with huge boulders of broken basalt. The last time I went there I was alone with Cassidy and I tried to go up through these boulders. It proved to be impossible for my poor old dog to follow me through the jumble of giant rocks. About 2/3 the way up I gave up and headed towards the side, which was a relief...I'm getting old, too!

There are many unsung natural wonders in our state. It seems that no one ever goes to this one, although there is ample evidence of human presence in the past. There is a cave at the top which had been used as a shelter, and recently I found what might be evidence of a gunfight: pock-marked boulders some distance apart. Maybe I've just seen too many old Westerns.

On the slope are some big old junipers, many bearing ax scars. This has to date back fifty years or so, when burros still carried firewood to Santa Fe. Today no one would go so far from where they could drive a truck to get wood.

As the we ascend, the slope gets steeper. We pull ourselves up from boulder to boulder. The rocks are cleaved into smooth facets, and are warm from the sun. This is a hike for the cool time of the year.

Looking back over the valley, it's hard to believe we are just a few miles from the city. Unfortunately this view is now scarred by the new road.

The Junipers cling to life in a harsh environment. Their twisted forms are expressive of their will to survive. Sometimes they appear to dance with the landscape.

As long as we stay out of the No Dog's Land at the bottom of the canyon, Cassidy has no trouble with this kind of trek. Indeed, she runs circles around us!

Looking through an ancient fractured juniper towards the Rio Grande, just beyond the hills.

At the top of the slope rise the basalt-capped cliffs. There is a place 3/4 of the way around the cirque where these can be climbed, although Cassidy needs a leg up. Here you can see the layers of compressed ash capped by the basalt flow. This is the place I painted in my oil canvas entitled Cliff Swallows.

Bisti Badlands Part I

2009-11-07T21:04:00.000-08:00

Before I even moved to New Mexico I had once seen a calendar photo that lodged like a thorn in my imagination. It was of a place called the Bisti Badlands...a name to conjure with! Of course I assumed, based on the weirdly animal-like forms I had seen in the picture, that it was pronounced "beastie' badlands. How could I not want to go there? But I had trouble finding anyone willing to go with me. It wasn't that close, and would mean an overnight at least. At last I decided to go by myself, with Cassidy for company. I threw a pad and blankets in the car, got some food, the dog, and headed west. Just before getting there, I stopped to take this shot of some promising rock formations.

Finally I spotted a small sign pointing out a gravel road which it promised would take me to the fabled Bisti Badlands. The entire area is Navaho land, and I passed a small herd of their horses just after making the turn.

I drove into another world. I had expected some kind of signage, maybe a campground or outhouse at the least. All I saw were waves of pale eroded rock...or not rock, but rather very old mud, carved into bizarre shapes by eons of wind and water.

Cassidy was thrilled to be let out of the car at last. With no one around, I gave her free rein, and she went all coyote, running up and down exploring this strange new world, totally alert with all senses.

Cassidy in coyote mode.

The rock formations more than satisfied my expectation of what I'd see in a beastie badlands! To me these rocks recalled a scene in Yellow Submarine. Know the one I mean? Blue Meanies!

It was a place full of mysteries. Everywhere I went I found mounds of tiny tesseract tiles in shades of rust, sienna, umber, slate. They lay scattered on the surface of the mudstone, in roughly circular concentrations. It took me a while to figure out what they were, and how they could possibly be scattered on the top of ancient mud.

In addition to the broken chips, there were also tubular formations of similiar color running horizontally through the mudstone. They were crystalline and sparkled, looking quartz-like, though with dark pigmentation. Mystery!

I took this close-up, beginning to have a theory of how such a mineral formation might have come about. Now I feel I was really dense. I grew up calling myself a rock-hound, and should have gotten it sooner! Have you figured it out?

I finally came across this absolutely obvious piece of evidence just as I had pretty much reached the conclusion that the quartzite tubes and chips were petrified wood! The tile chips were all that was left of trees which had been standing when the area was hit by a devastating flood millions of years ago. Buried in mud, the trees gradually transformed to stone, molecule by molecule.

Eventually the mudstone which encased the trees eroded away. As the stone trees were exposed, they too eroded, succumbing to the devastating process of freezing and thawing which New Mexico now undergoes every winter. Vertical trees were prone to disintegrate as fast as they were exposed, because their structure, even though stone, was based on the structure of the living trees. Water was able to enter the vertically-oriented layers of the cambium and then freeze, expand, and break the layers apart bit by bit. All that is left is the shattered remains of an ancient forest. The horizontal tubes were roots.

Cassidy just laughed. She'd known it all along, of course.

Just about that time the storm which had been threatening all day finally began to lift. It had been cold and windy all day, and had almost felt like it would snow, although only the fall equinox.

Even as the day was coming to an end, the light now increased. I welcomed the sun with a grateful spirit, and was rewarded with a whole new experience of the area. Forms which had seemed flat now stood out in clear definition. And I continued to be amazed at the lack of human presence. Everywhere I walked it seemed my foot prints were the only ones there.

As the sun broke through in earnest, the full beauty of the mudstone carvings was revealed. I wandered around snapping more pictures of this dreamscape, which still had surprises in store for me. I will continue the tale in my next blog. Meanwhile, if you are interested, you can google Bisti Badlands and find many more posts about this amazing place.

Inviting trail in the hills west of Santa Fe

2009-11-02T08:25:00.001-08:00

There is a vast area to explore close to town. After driving our Dodge caravan, which has fairly high clearance, as far up into the wild web of dirt roads west of Santa Fe as we dared, Steve, Cassidy and I set out to see what lay around the bend. Beware of getting stuck on these roads, which can be treacherous, especially when wet.

Moria and Cassidy

2009-11-02T08:18:00.000-08:00

Unless I'm in a national park or other area where dogs aren't allowed, I always hike with my trusty companion Cassidy. We got her at the shelter when she was about three months old; border collie, Australian shepherd, blue heeler mix. She's the smartest, best dog we've ever had! If she can't manage a route, then I know I shouldn't go there. We carry extra water for her when it's dry.

Enchanted landscape

2009-11-02T08:15:00.001-08:00

After the summer monsoons arrive, New Mexico is transformed. Grasses green up, flowers bloom, and the landscape is filled with life. August through early October is generally the most beautiful part of the year.

Horny toad

2009-11-02T08:09:00.000-08:00

Running over the rocky terrain, I nearly stepped on this little guy, he was so well disguised as a patch of lichen, flattened over his rock. He was obdurate about his disguise, as you can see in this picture. He was lichen, dammit! And lichen doesn't move!

Plants thrive among the rocks

2009-11-02T08:03:00.000-08:00

Among the rocks, hardy shrubs and drought tolerant grasses take root. I am inspired as a gardener to mimic what I find in nature; plants love to grow where rocks can protect them. The stones hold the soil, and keep it cool and moist.

Lava flow

2009-11-02T07:58:00.000-08:00

Basalt fractures into smooth, sensual curves. The rock takes on a sculptural quality I want to curl up into.

Dramatic rocks

2009-11-02T07:55:00.000-08:00

Here the energy of the molten basalt flow still is in evidence. The earth is alive!

Grotto

2009-11-02T07:50:00.000-08:00

We come to the end of our journey at a dry waterfall. The air is still and the silence is broken only by the calls of birds. This is just one of many hikes into areas that rarely feel human presence within a short distance of the city.