Southwest Dirtbag Roadtrip: Part III

       Escaping the rain and cold of the mountains I cruised north along I-25. Dinner was pizza in Albuquerque with a good friend, before driving up to Los Alamos to see another friend. I literally chilled here for a few days watching the first snow dust the surrounding mountains. One day included a hike in Bandelier; approaching the ruins from the FreyTrail was a wonderful way to arrive at the ruins.
      Leaving Los Alamos was a beautiful drive under sunny skies over the Jemez Mountains. Passing through the Jemez Pueblo a surprising number of cars were parked along the roadside of this small isolated village. I almost didn’t stop, finally making a U-turn on the outskirts of town. I am so thankful I did! Walking into a local gallery I stepped right into the local feast of San Diego. My hosts fed the group assembled an excellent array of modern and traditional dishes and then we went off to the pueblo plaza. Hundreds of artists were selling their wares, mostly jewelry. The main attraction was in the town plaza, where surrounded by adobe buildings with red rock cliffs in the background, around 150 dancers in regalia promenaded upon the dirt surface. An interesting merging of Native American religion and Catholicism, it made for an incredible sight! For hours I watched the festival before driving on to Chaco Canyon.
      It was a very cold night, but I stayed warm sleeping in both my sleeping bags. I was quite impressed by the parents in another campsite who were daring to camp with two young children. Exploring the ruins of Chaco was a pure delight! Although I have seen many Ancient Puebloan ruins wandering about the Southwest nothing even comes close the scale and complexity of this distant hub of civilization. My last hike of the trip was on the mesa overlooking the New Mexico desert. It was a fitting place.
      By late afternoon I drove out of Chaco headed for Farmington and friends. It was a wonderful evening spent talking of life beside the San Juan River. The next morning I viewed Durango from the mesa, but drove on by my home and into the San Luis Valley. I spent that night in Leadville with a friend and after grabbing an incredible Mexican hamburger at the Taqueria in Avon I met up with my brother Mark in Denver. The next day mountain biking on Green Mountain I had the third crash of my cycling career. It was small wound, but a gusher. Continuing the tour of Colorado I drove up to stay with friends in Fort Collins and then with one final stop the next day to see friends in Laramie it was due east to Michigan. A most pleasant roadtrip!

Frijoles Canyon, Bandelier National Monument

Long House wall

Volcanic rocks

Long House

Chaco Canyon

Chaco pueblo

Blacktop in the San Luis Valley

Southwest Dirtbag Roadtrip: Part II

            The road stretches to the horizon in the desert, blanketed with sagebrush and golden forbs. Little exists to give distances perspective except the black ribbon of asphalt slicing thru the arid landscape. Time is marked by the growing layer of red dust on my dashboard. In the midst of the desert off I-40 is Petrified Forest National Park, my next destination. I explored the petrified wood and badlands of the park in the cool of morning. Then back on the road I stopped at St. Johns Public Library to take care of some business, before heading into the solitude of the White Mountains.
            Too much time spent lately passing thru the landscape on four wheels so the next morning I explored the Ponderosa Pine forest on my Salsa Fargo. Following the disappearing tracks of an old jeep road I saw an elk herd kick up dust descending a steep hillside; a young bull bugling in the lead, while the aging bull huffing at the rear. Back in the car I drove on to Silver City, Mexico and then north into the Gila Wilderness, the land of Geronimo and Aldo Leopold. As the sun set I soaked my road weary bones in a hot spring surrounded by the colorful cliffs of the Gila River. What a way to end the day!

            In the morning I viewed the cliff dwellings, enjoying an inspiring discussion on shadows and lighting from an avid photographer. Then I shouldered my backpack, locked the car and began walking into the wilderness. Two days, two hot springs and plenty of relaxing was all the planning needed for this adventure and it was marvelous!



Arizona road



Painted Desert

Petrified wood pueblo

Gila Wilderness

Johnson Hot Spings

Along the Middle Fork of the Gila River 





Southwest Dirtbag Roadtrip: Part I

In the month of the first snows I left my job, friends and the places I knew; striking out for places I knew of, but had never been. Knowing that the Southwest was my area of exploration I had little plan of the unfolding adventure. As it turned out my first adventure happened the first day hiking thru Canyon of the Ancients. Missing a trail junction a brief hike extended itself until dusk. Back at the car I headed for a camping stop atop Cedar Mesa overlooking canyon country.

            The next morning as the sun advanced over the horizon I drove down the Moki Dugway, a dirt road carved out of the cliff edge, dropping a thousand feet in a mere three miles. Along Highway 163 I passed the spot where movie icon Forrest Gump concluded his endless cross-country run. Descending into Monument Valley I was surrounded by colorful red mesas, buttes and spires. Driving along the bumpy dirt road the spirit of the people and the place enveloped me. Waiting and watching the sunset on the Mittens was a marvelous way to end the day!

            I was so entranced by the beautiful valley that I returned the next day to bike through the valley. Later I drove to Canyon de Chelly, but arriving there mid-afternoon found most of the canyon already in shadows, making photography a challenge. So I went to the campground where a stray rez. dog stayed outside my tent all night. In the morning I couldn’t resist tossing him a few bread slices. Karma came around in the form of wispy cirrus clouds making the landscape stunning for photography. I hiked down into the canyon to White House Ruins and returning to the rim stood at the exact spot where Ansel Adams took his iconic photograph (mine was not as good). Now ever southward into the desert…  

Run Forrest Run!

The Mittens of Monument Valley

Monument Valley

Canyon de Chelly

White House Ruins

Cottonwoods in the Canyon

The open road

The Guiding Life

Winter is slowly progressing and for me that means a transition from my summer seasonal job to something else. For professional guides the transition is a common occurrence; leaving behind the known and familiar for uncertainty. For three seasons now, about six months every year, I have been employed as a zip-line guide at Soaring Tree Top Adventures based near Durango, Colorado. Remotely located along the narrow gauge railroad stretching from Durango to Silverton the property is surrounded on all sides by the San Juan National Forest. The nearest road involves a five mile hike south along the tracks. Its isolation is at times a welcome relief and other times a lonely place.

Although there are many aspects of my job and the guiding lifestyle that people may find notable, let me simply concentrate on one thing: movement. Compared one’s typical career, guiding provides a degree of freedom for exploration. Typically there is no long-term commitment and gaps in seasons provide chances for travel. Yet to use the clique, freedom is never free, it comes at a price. Work as a guide and one is forced to say good bye to newly made friends every few months. Friends that scatter about the country and may never be seen again. In the industry we say “I’ll see ya when I see ya”. The goodbyes never seem to get easier; one only says more of them.

So on my last day of work I took the time to hike one last time to a familiar place. With the shades of the ending day chasing me up the mountainside, I ventured one last time to Silver Falls above my cabin. In May when I arrive the falls are a raging torrent of thawing snowmelt that drenches a person as they approach. Yet today, as I approach the falls, a quite cascade of water drops off the cliffside. It’s soothing and peaceful and I pause and sit a few minutes for contemplation and reflection, before moving on. “I’ll see ya when I see ya”