Don’t cry for me Argentina

| Deming, NM |

Today’s plans were scuttled by a new occurrence for me, a dust storm.

Well technically, I imagine it’s properly called a windstorm, since it’s the tornadic winds that generate the dust but…

No matter what we call it, the end result is the same. No hiking today. Which is a shame, because I had planned two trips, including a visit to the White Sands National monument.

Instead I wound up driving past White Sands and peering through the dust at it. Which was likely a much less magical experience. C’est La Vie, I suppose.

A dust storm is an interesting phenomenon and really didn’t seem a whole lot different than a bad winter wind storm in Buffalo. Just substitute sand and dirt for snow. At least when this dies down, there’s quite a bit less shoveling.

So in the end I moved on to the next town and assuming the winds die down tomorrow, I’ll start venturing into the deserts of the Southwest. Not sure where yet, but all of the possibilities are enticing!

Now let’s talk about yesterday…

I found myself at the top of the world again yesterday.

Though I’ve said that before, it doesn’t seem repetitious, since each new mountain conquest brings with it all the emotions of those that have gone before it.

Now, technically this hike did not summit an official new peak, since it represented an interconnected group of ridges, peaks and the like; but it did represent a new high altitude of somewhere around 9300 feet, and of that I’m quite happy.

*I staked my claim though I doubt anyone took notice.*

The White Mountain Wilderness lies north of the Mescalero Native American reservation in South-Central New Mexico and offers numerous high altitude hiking opportunities.

Using my handy AllTrails app, I found one that would offer a good combination of views, length, and complexity; and the fact it was ranked as ‘the best’ in this mountain range certainly did nothing but help make that decision all the easier.

The Argentina Peak and Little Bonito Trail Loop

I plugged the coordinates into the GPS and it quoted almost an hour to go some 18 miles from the hotel to the trailhead. Which didn’t seem to make much sense to me.

But after getting off the twisty, and pretty typical, mountain highway, it became 100% clear why I needed that extra time.

You see, the road to the trailhead wasn’t much of a road at all, but rather more of a gravel strewn dirt path of 6.5 miles.

Had I been in a truck or SUV this wouldn’t have been much of a concern. But the Veloster is not a truck, and in some ways, it barely qualifies as a car at times.

But, she’s my car and we’ve been through a lot together on this trip and we’d get through this too. Though I did feel bad at previously promising that things would get easier after all the driving to get here.

*Neither miles, nor bugs, not rutted roads stays this vehicle from the swift completion of it’s appointed rounds.*

So off we went on this latest adventure.

The road grade wasn’t all that bad – comparatively speaking – but the ‘road’ itself was….well, let’s say it was patently absurd.

Holes and dips and dust, and small streams. Yes, really, there were two small stream crossings to navigate. But we crawled along and after about a half an hour of stupidity, and white knuckle’ish driving, we got there.

On the drive in, it was obvious that these forested hills had been through some tough times recently, but once I got on the trail, it became readily apparent just how bad things were.

These were mostly pine forests, and they clearly had been ravaged my wildfire multiple times in the last couple decades or so.

Many trees were burned out shells of themselves and many others had significant fire damage. In addition, the fire had stripped the soils of their grasses and other supporting plant life which led to erosion, which led to trees becoming uprooted, toppling, and then taking out other trees. Whole mountainsides were all but stripped bare.

But fire is a natural part of the a forest’s life cycle, and the life of a forest should be measured in the hundreds or thousands of years, not just in the current era.

And this forest was well into it’s renewal in places. Many new pines had sprung up, some were a couple inches tall, others came to your knee and impressively standing sentinel over everything were plenty of towering 100+ foot behemoths.

The significant fire scarring on their lower reaches made me think of them as gladiators, battle-scarred by war, but still standing tall as they continue to fight on.

In time, nature will figure it out, and here she was definitely trying her best.

This hike was intoxicating in the way in which they often are. SILENCE.

There were a handful of cars at the trailhead but during the entirety of the hike, I didn’t see another soul. Nor did I hear one.

You’d hear a bird here or there, a couple of times a snake scurried out of the brush, and there was a strong and constant breeze but other than that, the forest kept to itself. And I kept to mine.

*This guy was super cool, but he doesn’t qualify as a ‘soul’*

All in all, the beauty of the hike was only exceeded by it’s serenity. These hikes are where I do my best thinking and really represent one of the few times I feel ‘at peace’.

That’s a difficult thing to describe, so I’ll cheat and use one of my favorite quotes instead.

“In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.” John Muir

—–

Nearer the top of the hike I emerged into some beautiful high altitude grasslands and though the temperature had dropped, it was altogether refreshing and made for a nice contrast with the brilliant sunshine.

And though I figured I’d get a treat when I finally reached the ridge line, I wasn’t at all prepared for what nature had laid out in front of me.

Unbroken and all but endless beauty.

And when I say endless, I’m not at all being melodramatic.

Have a look for yourself.