new mexico – Josh Hodge blog

Valles Calderas and the Land of Enchantment

September 10, 2020September 10, 2020Posted in national parksTagged bandelier, colorado, national monuments, national parks, new mexico, santa fe national forest, valles calderas2 Comments

Valles Calderas is some sort of a dreamland. You don’t find it on Earth. You find it in fantasy, but it so happens to also be within the state of New Mexico. This place really makes the New Mexican state motto “Land of Enchantment ” come to life, and it’s a stark contrast from the dry desert stretches of southern New Mexico. According to geologists, long ago a giant volcano erupted creating a thirteen mile wide depression in the ground which now is rolling meadows and streams surrounded by rounded coniferous mountains. It’s not enormously epic in presentation but surprisingly comforts and charms the visitor. Wide open expanses of bright green grass contrasted with the dark green of the conifers splashed out under the cloudless blue sky create the perfect artistry. The small streams meander around the landscape, waters reflecting the rich blue of the sky.

The visitor center was a small, seemingly temporary building. Little information was provided about this National Park unit. It was designated a National Natural Landmark by the National Park Service in 1975 but then gained the designation of a National Preserve in 2000. I had assumed it was an even more recently established National Park unit since it didn’t have its own uniform National Park brochure like all the other National Park sites.

When I arrived I was unsure of what to see or what to do. Uncharacteristic of the usual very friendly and informative National Park rangers and employees, it seemed like the employee here was just not eager to share information. After explaining that it was my first time here, and not getting much response, I decided I’d just ask about the park drive. I remember my friend and coworker, Jamie Hamblin, had been here the summer before with her parents and she shared enthusiastically how breathtaking the park drive was. I got instructions from the employee to drive up to the gate, get out of my car, open it, and close it when leaving. I came to think that perhaps being a preserve this place was not intended for recreation but more of just a place to protect wildlife. Therefore I did not get out of my car. I simply drove the road. I’d later find out that this is a recreation destination with hiking, biking, camping, horseback riding, and even hunting opportunities. I drove around for about an hour on the dirt road that meanders through the meadows. I did not see any remarkable wildlife, only deer, but I’ve been told at times one can see herds of elk here. I just enjoyed the peacefulness of the drive and the beautiful scenery.

When I left, I made the scenic half hour drive through the Santa Fe National Forest alongside Los Alamos among the sweet smelling pines to Bandelier National Monument. Here much green was replaced by arid red rock. Seventy percent of the nearly 34,000 acres is designated wilderness. I only had about an hour to spare. Although National Monuments can sometimes be even more impressive and worthwhile than some of our designated National Parks, my trips give time priority to National Parks, and along the way I try to stop and visit as many National Monuments and other National Park Service sites as I can. Given my time constraints I hiked along the 1.2 mile loop from the visitor center to see the cliff dwellings and rock houses of the early pueblo people. A series of ladders adjoined rock faces, where small rock homes were formed often into the natural cavities and indents of the jumbled red rock formations. These were unique from the dwellings seen at places like Mesa Verde or Canyonlands where they are often constructed under cliff overhangs.

As I walked across the parking lot to my car, I passed by another solo traveler just getting out of his vehicle. He had a jeep adorned with stickers of many parks, many that I’d been to. By his appearance it looked like he may have been camping for days as well. As I’ve mentioned before, people to me are like books. I am fascinated by people’s stories. Where do they come from? Where is their story headed? Solo travelers intrigue me the most. Those are the books I most want to read. Maybe it’s simply because I relate, or also because I know that traveling solo, especially on cross country road trips, takes a lot of character. It can be lonely and challenging at first and others may question, but then one resolves these predicaments and learns to carry on and enjoy the adventure, solitude and all. At least this is my experience. I want to know the stories of others.

Leaving Bandelier National Monument, I drove through some remote stretches of northern New Mexico and southern Colorado. Crossing into Colorado I passed by many open fields with the backdrops of mountains behind them. This was very much the ranching part of Colorado, a side I hadn’t seen much of before. This was the backbone of the continent. This was the place I’d read about, of ranchers with grit along the continental divide. The further I drove into Colorado the more green and welcoming the environment became especially after having been in the desert for many days. I stopped for dinner at a Subway and got out of my car into a cooler and slightly less arid climate. I remember thinking how this was not the tourist route, and here I was a young man from Kentucky out in the rural stretches of Colorado. I felt out of place, far from home, but that didn’t bother me one bit. I felt accomplished to be so out of my ordinary. I stopped at a gas station for some Muddy Buddy Chex mix and I then carried on with my four hour drive.

The sun making it’s late evening descent among the mountains and fields of cattle was beautiful and peaceful. The road took me into Rio Grande National Forest alongside the East Pass Creek. This calming scenery reminded me of why I take these trips and it filled me with a renewed sense of excitement for the travels ahead of me. But I was also travel weary from spending so much of the day in the car. I realized I still had at least an hour drive left, I was not looking forward to finding my campsite and setting up in the dark in Curecanti National Recreation Area, my intended destination. While considering the predicament I came to a National Forest Service sign labeled Buffalo Pass Campground off to the side of the road. Perhaps I’d abandon my plan and stay here.

I pulled off the main road onto a gravel one and found a simple but beautiful campground sitting alone in solidarity amongst pine trees with a field to one side outlined with a rustic split rail snake fence. No one else was here, but this campground really spoke to me. It’s one of my favorite campgrounds I’ve ever stayed in. It’s difficult to put my finger on exactly why. There was something very attractive about it, being so remote, being an unexpected find, very quiet and peaceful, not crowded with growth, but open and spacious but still in the forest. It was a place of good vibes, or as in Mexican Spanish, “buena onda.” I set up camp here at dusk, changed into some comfortable pajamas, and made a campfire as the sun slowly began to rest casting a sleepy blue all over the campground. When my fire died down I laid in my tent and fell asleep while reading a book about early pioneer life in West Texas. The following day I’d check out Curecanti National Recreation Area and arrive at the most intriguing and Jurassic Dinosaur National Monument.

Read the previous entry “The Sandia Mountains and the Old Town,” here: https://joshthehodge.com/2020/03/11/the-sandia-mountains-and-the-old-town/

Check out my book Canyonlands: my adventures in the national parks and the beautiful wild here: https://www.amazon.com/Canyonlands-adventures-National-Parks-beautiful/dp/1711397873

The Sandia Mountains and the Old Town

March 11, 2020March 11, 2020Posted in national parks, new mexico, travelTagged Albuquerque, merica clothing co, new mexico, old barrel tea, old town, sandia mountains1 Comment

My visit to Albuquerque was a pleasant one despite the fact that my gum infection was raging on and I was in a continual nuisance of pain. The night before my day of Albuquerque exploration I had a hard time sleeping as the pain was throbbing and so bad that it was creating a vibration sensation in my ears. I took some Tylenol and was able to sleep a bit on-and-off. In addition to the pain was the anxiety that this infection could escalate to the point that it could hinder or even stop my summer adventure.

I was visiting my cousin Rachel, her husband Alex, and their four year old son Malcolm. They devoted the whole day to introducing me to the city and sites of Albuquerque. It was a brightly sunny day and we started with a visit to Old Albuquerque, the historic center of the city from its founding in 1706. Here the church of San Felipe de Neri stands overseeing Old Town Plaza, the birthplace of the city, which is very reminiscent of the zocalos I’d seen in the center of many Mexican cities. It had pathways, areas of green grass, benches, and a gazebo for occasional performances. Surrounding the square were narrow streets with adobe structures one after another boasting artisan shops and local eateries. After taking our picture together in front of the church we went into a few stores and I saw the touristy nick-knacks and patty-whacks. I did not buy anything except a sticker of the Sandia Mountains. I knew we’d soon be going up them. I found it humorous that Sandia is a Spanish term for watermelon. I thought it was a coincidence but Rachel explained how the mountains can look pink with the sunset cast upon them in the evenings. We also stopped by Old Barrel Tea Company where I bought myself a cup of iced tea.

Here in the old town I also called my dentist’s office to see if they could prescribe any antibiotic for my gum infection. They informed me that they could not send a prescription to another state nor give me any recommendation except that the best thing I could do was to schedule an appointment to see a dentist in New Mexico. Given that the dentist would most likely be out of the insurance network and unreachable in a reasonable time frame, I realized I was on my own and was very disappointed in the healthcare system. This situation weighed heavy on me.

For lunch I enjoyed some New Mexican fare. I did not know that New Mexican cuisine is its own category. It’s a fusion of the cuisine of Pueblo Indians, Mexican, and Spanish and it incorporates a lot of local spice. I thought my experiences having studied and lived in Mexico would be enough to understand the menu, but I needed a little explanation. I had enchiladas de carne adovada with red pepper sauce. Carne Adovada? Pork slow-braised in a spicy red chile bath for hours.

After lunch the highlight of the day came, our trip up to the top of the Sandia Mountains on the Sandia Peak Tramway. Leaving the desert floor the tram glided above the Cibola National Forest. Below were a plethora of rock jumbles and desert shrubs hugging the sides of the mountain. Higher up pine trees started to make their appearance. The tram was very much like the one in New York City that travels between 59th and 60th street and over the East River onto Roosevelt Island but unlike that one, this one ascends 5,300 feet. In the winter this is also used as a ski lift but now in summer its a scenic tram ride. At the peak there are trails that venture off into the mountains and a platform to observe the city of Albuquerque so far below that it’s nearly unrecognizable.

Up here in the mountains we all started off on a short trail together, but I traveled a bit further as the rest went back to the lift area. I didn’t want to keep them waiting for me long, so I ran the trail two miles to the Kiwanis Cabin. An old rock shelter built by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s. The work of the Civilian Conservation Corps pops up in various National Parks, National Forests, state parks, and other public lands. I enjoy coming across their work because the quality and rustic craftsmanship is to be appreciated. Not only have they built cabins and lodges but also park roads, bridges, and trails. They are no longer in existence but functioned as a voluntary work relief program for unemployed young men primarily in the 1930s. This was a part of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s New Deal, which I am very hesitant to praise, but I am grateful for this part of it. Up here by Kiwanis Cabin I was at a rock protrusion. I enjoyed the great unobstructed view of the world below.

On my way back, on the narrow path between the trees, I began to pray to God about my gum infection and about this trip in general. I felt a great sense of peace come over me. All of my anxiety regarding my gum infection was hushed. Also up here in the mountains I felt way more in my element. I enjoyed Albuquerque below but something about the cooler mountain air was soothing. And amongst the pines and aspen I felt in the company of reassuring friends. The sweet smell of the western pines, brought back memories of prior summers, rekindled my spirit of adventure, and made me feel alive and vigorous.

After joining back with the others, we soon descended the mountain on the tram to the mainland. We stopped by a Bubble Tea cafe before heading to the house.

Back at Mesa del Sol I was able to kick off my boots and relax. I brought together all the stickers I had accumulated on this trip so far and began to sticker up my new dark green Nalgene bottle. I have a new tradition that each summer I buy a Nalgene and place stickers all over it from the parks and destinations I visit. I use the water bottle all summer, and then I retire it to a display shelf. Sometimes I’ll pull off a bottle from the past and use it again, but mostly they are momentums from the summer trips, and as I look over the bottle in hand, with all its stickers, I’m reminded of all the memories. Malcolm even made me a sticker for my bottle of his house, and although the bottle did sport it for a long while, eventually it fell off.

In the evening, nearing sunset, I went for another walk around the neighborhood. This time solo. I observed the Sandia or Watermelon Mountains in the distance and the pinkish color they reflected in the evening. I also walked by the Albuquerque movie studios. Out back they had the facades portraying an old Western main street for a Western sci-fi Netflix series in production.

Back at the house I visited with Rachel over yet another cup of tea. I learned that both Rachel and I have an affinity for hot teas of all kinds. I then told Rachel how I thought Malcolm looked like the child and protagonist, Elliot, from the recent Disney movie Pete’s Dragon. We ended up watching the movie. It is one of my favorite Disney movies. It makes sense for me taking place in the Northern woods, having a park ranger as a major supporting actor, and symbolically tying in themes and messages about life and spiritual matters. It’s soundtrack had been the background music for much of my traveling this summer.

And like this my visit with my Cousin Rachel and family came to an end. The following morning, I would hit the road. Just as one of the songs from Pete’s Dragon repeats, I would “go north,” and make my way to Colorado.

Read my previous episode “From Carlsbad to Albuquerque?” here: https://joshthehodge.com/2020/03/05/from-carlsbad-to-albuquerque/

Check out my new book “Canyonlands: My Adventures in the National Parks and the Beautiful Wild,” here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1711397873/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_UjGjEbYBGF4PR

The Mystique of Carlsbad Caverns

February 8, 2020February 8, 2020Posted in adveture, national parks, new mexico, travelTagged bats, Brazilian free-tailed bats, carlsbad caverns, caves, national parks, new mexico1 Comment

The drive from Big Bend National Park to Carlsbad Caverns is not one to boast of. I most definitely found myself on a truck route, a sure minority in my small car, with flat land and oil fields all around me and little to see. But when I arrived at Carlsbad Caverns just across the state line from Texas in New Mexico, the destination would most certainly be worth the journey.

National Parks that are formed around caves are hard to evaluate in comparison to other National Parks. There is such an immeasurable difference between a cave National Park and any other. Caves evoke different feelings. They are dark, dank, gloomy, yet wild pieces of nature’s artistry. I like them and they fascinate me, as do all wonders of nature. They can even inspire me, but hidden from the sun, beneath the surface of the land, they place themselves in their own category of mystique.

I had reserved a lantern tour of the Left Hand Tunnel portion of caverns online months in advance and was very much looking forward to it. This would be my first lantern tour in a cave. The following year I would get to go on a lantern tour in Mammoth Cave and Oregon Caves, but this was the first so I was very excited for it. Along with my excitement came a bit of frustration because I had trouble finding the park. The address I had led me to the park’s administrative offices in the town of Carlsbad. I began to consider that I might arrive late, miss my tour, and add this to my list of grievances: feeling burnt out, locking my keys in my car, having a rock fall and dent the hood of my vehicle, getting caught in a lightning storm at White Sands National Monument, and getting reprimanded from a park ranger. Of course I shouldn’t have been focusing on the bad and instead should have been grateful for being out here and being able to go to these parks in the first place, but this is where I was at mentally at this point in my trip.

After figuring my way and zipping around the five miles of road leading to the center of the park, I arrived with a few minutes to spare. I changed my clothes in my car for the cooler temperature in the cave, which stays at a consistent 56 degrees fahrenheit, and went into the visitor center to check in for my tour. There were ten people for the tour. We met inside the museum part of the visitor center and the ranger and guide, Josh from Maine, took us to a classroom to distribute lanterns. They were simple wood box lanterns with candles inside them. We then boarded the historic elevators which dropped us to 754 feet below ground level. At the time they were installed in 1932 they were the longest single-shaft elevators in the world.

During the tour, in which we made our way through the undeveloped section of the cave on a dirt path, the ranger presented the history of the discovery of the cave. According to the National Park Service “Our first credited cave exploration happened in the cave in 1898. Sixteen year-old cowboy, Jim White, was rounding up cattle one evening when he spotted smoke from a wildfire off in the distance. He went into high alert. Fires could be just as devastating then as they are now. He rode closer to gather information. How big was it? Was it moving quickly? What direction was it burning? These questions and more pushed Jim to ride to the fire so he could report back to camp with the most accurate information possible.

As Jim approached the smoke, he noticed something strange: he couldn’t smell the smoke, hear the crackling of flames, or feel the heat of fire. Jim realized he wasn’t seeing smoke. He was watching bats. Thousands-upon-thousands of Brazilian free-tailed bats. Jim finally stopped at the mouth of the cave completely mesmerized by the spectacle of flying mammals filling the air above him. He once said he watched the bats for nearly half an hour before the darkness fell so completely he had to return to camp.

Because he knew the other cowboys would mock him, Jim didn’t immediately describe what he’d seen to anyone. He thought it over for several days.The deep hole in the ground and its secrets continued to gnaw at him. He had to find out what was down in the dark recesses.” Jim went on to explore the cave more and introduce others to it.

I loved this story and tried to put myself in Jim’s place, discovering such an immense marvel on my own at such a young age. On another note, an additional fascinating thing I learned on my tour was that microbes have recently been discovered in the far reaches of the cave that specifically attack cancerous tissue and that this discovery may have huge medical implications on the treatment of cancer.

Although I very much enjoyed the tour, afterward things got increasingly fascinating. I was told that if I wanted to take the elevators back up to the visitor center I would have to soon, because they would be closing for the evening. If I chose not to, I’d have to hike my way out of the cave. Of course I opted for the latter choice. This gave me time to explore the Big Room of the cave and have a sandwich. I found it unique to order food and eat at the Underground Lunchroom. Back in the early days of the park there was an actual kitchen down in the cave, but because of food preparation causing damage to the cave, food started to be prepared outside of the cave and sent down.

After my quick bite to eat I began my exploration. I cannot put into words the uniqueness, the massive scale, the variety of what is in this cave. It is its own underground world. This is a cave with massive rock formations. I pondered if up above some if these things would be considered mountains. The scale is just astounding. And unlike Mammoth Cave which is largely covered by a capstone, this cave is a true cavern meaning it is composed of soluble rock which permits entrance of mineral water which grows speleothems and therefore makes the most impressive display of stalactites, stalagmites, straws, draperies, cave popcorn and bacon, and a plethora of other cave features. At times it all looks elegant, other times eerie. With every turn there is something strangely unique to look at. In the Big Room the park service has a paved trail with railings that meander around, and many spotlights illuminate the most astounding of features.

With a burst of excitement I went from one feature to the next, but then made the same walk again to quietly savor the surroundings and be filled with a sense of wonder. I could easily imagine I was on another planet, a more desolate one. When I was done pondering and wandering I began my ascent to the cave entrance. It was all a gradual uphill hike, along a paved path. The passage narrows and widens from one set of switchbacks to another. I was the only person on this path. Despite other parts of the park and the visitor center being quite busy, I didn’t see a singular person for the entire ascent. I felt like I had Carlsbad Caverns to myself. As I got closer to the cave entrance I began to hear chirping overhead. I looked up and saw small dark creatures flying near the roof of the cave. Bats! I thought. They grew in number and in volume the more I ascended, swirling in flight above me. The cave was very tall so I couldn’t see them up close, but I reveled in the unique experience of hiking in the company of lively bats.

Back at the visitor center I told a ranger what I experienced. I would be informed that they most likely weren’t bats but cave swallows. Also in the visitor center I watched the park film and bought a pin for my collection. Then after killing a bit of time, I went back outside to the amphitheater located right at the mouth and natural entrance of the cave. It was time for the nightly bat flight program. A ranger would talk about bats and then around sunset the bats would come flying out of the gave in a grand spectacle. So, as programmed, a ranger talked about bats feeding on bugs, especially mosquitos, and how the tendons in a bats hands are designed opposite of ours. To expand their fingers from their fist it requires strength, but a fist tightly clenched is in the nature relaxed position. This is how they are able to cling onto things and one another and hang upside down. The ranger talked about the immense size of the bat population between 200,000 and 500,000 in the cave and how bat, guano a.k.a. bat dung, was once harvested from Carlsbad Caverns for its value as a nutrient rich fertilizer.

The ranger then presented some sad news: do to the nature of the weather, the bats may not be coming out of the caves. It was a gloomy evening, clouds hung low and the wind was strong. It seemed that a storm was just moments away. The bats would not come out in storms. But then as he was talking about such a predicament a bat flew out of the cave, followed by another. They flew around a group of trees and went back into the cave.

The ranger explained that these were the “scouts.” The bat colony sends out a scout to check the weather and report to the rest. If the report is good, the group then exits the cave. If the scout determines the weather to be threatening, the colony would stay in the cave for the night and postpone eating. Minutes later a swarm of bats exited the cave in the most spectacular, eerie, yet beautiful display. They came out in a spiral formation almost appearing like a tornado, Dark black silhouettes contrasted against the evening sky. They flew right above me in a beautiful display with the precise coordination of a school of fish. With Batman and Halloween and all the other references to bats in popular culture I am quite familiar with the silhouette of a bat with its wings extended, but there is something strictly exciting and beautiful to see thousands of these silhouettes moving, flapping, flying above me in the sky.

Nowhere else have I seen such a display. It was breathtaking, and I was very fortunate to see it. Moments later it began to rain. The bats probably wouldn’t have exited the cave if the scouts had reported rain. I made it back to my car and opened up a can of soup and ate it for supper with the sound and display of rain water crashing against my windshield.

A trip to Carlsbad Caverns is worth every bit of time and travel to visit. It truly lives up to the title of National Park, for it is an extremely unique place to be treasured, with great stories, most impressive natural features, and a stunning show presented by it’s natural inhabitants.

Read my previous episode “On the Rio Grande: a world between U.S. and Mexico,” here: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2020/02/02/on-the-rio-grande-a-world-between-the-u-s-and-mexico/

Check out my new book “Canyonlands: My Adventures in the National Parks and the Beautiful Wild,” here:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1711397873/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_U_UjGjEbYBGF4PR

A Nightmare at White Sands

March 13, 2019March 14, 2019Posted in adveture, national parks, nature, travelTagged lightning camping, lightning desert, new mexico, white sands, white sands national monumentLeave a comment

I made it past the Border Patrol checkpoints, through the various safety corridors, past the federal prisons with signs warning me not to stop nor pick up any hitchhikers, across the plains, past the tornado, through a torrential rainstorm, and finally I was in the mountains. On the other side I would arrive at White Sands National Monument.

My first perception of New Mexico was not the most welcoming. Danger and warnings seemed to be all around and on every highway and byway. This state would redeem itself later, showing me its true enchantment. But right now, after a long day’s journey, I was just hoping for a relaxing evening camping out under the stars amidst white sand dunes.

Little did I know my night would not be relaxing nor star filled. I had my suspicions of this though. A storm had lingered ahead of me most of the day, preventing me from fully buying into the prospect of a beautiful night. Once I had passed over the mountains by Las Cruces, I had outpaced the storm. It was behind me. I knew mountains create weather, and weather on one side of a mountain can be entirely different than the weather on the other.

Maybe, by crossing the mountain, the storm would truly stay behind me. I had some unrooted hope. I rolled into the visitor center at White Sand National Monument and wasted no time in getting inside and securing a backpacking permit. It had been a race, me against the clock, all day to get here and secure a permit. When I had it in my hand it was a sure sign of relief.

The young lady, who issued the permit to me in the visitor center, went over a few basic rules. She told me that once I drove into the park, I would not be coming out until the next day. I would have to commit to camp all night, because the park road is gated and locked at night.

I inquired “What am I supposed to do if it starts to lightning.” She replied, commenting how she was aware of a pending storm, and assured me I could sleep in my car if lightning became an issue.

Prior to setting out on this trip, I read an account, from a fellow adventure blogger, Tricia, from Road Trip the World. In her piece “An Amazing (And Absolutely Terrifying) Night Backpacking White Sands,” She shares the true life story of her family encountering a lightning storm while trying to camp out in White Sands and racing back to their car only to get lost and becoming extremely vulnerable to the weather. It was a great read, and seemed like such a crazy and unlikely occurrence. That would never happen to me, right? I could never have imagined that the words I read in their blog would jump right off the world wide web, manifest themselves again here in New Mexico, and formulate the same story with me as the new protagonist. What was this? Some sort of Disney reboot. I would have begged to just stick with the original classic. This new story added in some details I could have done without.

So here’s how this new rendition begins: I was in the park. It was astounding. The sand, formed from gypsum, is truly white, and it gives the appearance of snow. If I staged my photos correctly- threw on a serious coat and hat- I could have fooled you into thinking I was in some sort of arctic tundra. But it was rather warm. I was in shorts and a sleeveless shirt. The drive into the park, was, for a lack of better terms, magical. I think somewhere beneath my car was a road, but white sand had blown, fallen, and leisurely hung out all over the road, giving the perception that I was off road somewhere braving the snow covered landscape.

I parked my car, in the designated lot for backpacking campers. There were a few other vehicles, maybe five at the max. Daylight was slipping away, so I wanted to get packed and out on the dunes. Two miles, I believe is the distance I needed to travel, to where I was assigned a “campsite.” The only way to identify a campsite would be by a metal stick stuck in the ground with a number affixed to it. As I was packing my backpack with everything I’d need for the night, I overheard a pitiful, yet entertaining, conversation between some fresh college graduates who just met. There were two boys and two girls.

“We just graduated,” The college frat boy type spoke as he was gathering things from his Jeep along with his buddy.

“No way! Oh my gosh, we did to!” the tall slender girl flirtatiously twirled her fingers through her hair, aside her female companion.

“You girls are hot. What are you doing out here alone?”

“Oh, we are just celebrating graduation and are going to go backpacking”

“We’re gonna get drunk.” He pulled a cooler from the Jeep. “Come by our camp for some drinks.”

“Oh my gosh, like, yes!

I had to pause, was this conversation really happening? I did not have the most conventional college experience. I wasn’t accustomed to this sort of exchange. Is this how the world works? Part of me internally was saying please, just stop and go home, and the other part was entertained and begging, tell me more. And they did.

“We have weed,” one boy continued “Come smoke some weed with us at our camp.”

“For sure,” the girls accepted.

Whoa! Overload. Here’s what was spinning through my mind. First off, this conversation was so easy and so blatantly straight-forward. If I were to be flirtatious, which is not much in my character, I would be more clever and cunning about it. “You’re hot”? Really? We can do better. Secondly, going out on the sand dunes, in God’s beautiful nature to get drunk, to me, seems like an abomination. I go out in the wild to seek beauty, to savor the vistas, to listen to the subtle sounds, to commune with my Creator. I think John Muir and dear Teddy Roosevelt would be rolling in their graves to hear this horrendous conversation. Thirdly, you are going to smoke weed on federal property? That only seems like a good idea if you want to spend some time in prison. Hearing the way these guys and girls responded to each other, only proved that they deserved each other. And in conclusion, although their night may be filled with “experiences” for sure, they would miss the true value of the solitude and inspiration to be found in such a beautiful place.

But whatever, Tally Ho! Onward I went into the sandscape. I, now a proven champion of beating the clock, decided I could save some time by punching in the GPS coordinates to my “site” Instead of following the trail, which was a series of stakes in the group. The GPS device would take me a more direct route. I thought this was a good plan. It was mistake number 1.

The story just goes downhill from here, but in all due credit, White Sands National Monument is beautiful. The smooth white sandy expanse contrasts the dark blue and purples of the mountains in the distance creating a view of prime artistry.

I arrived at my site, just as the sun turned in for the night. You’ve heard of a “hole-in-the-wall,” well this was nothing more than a stick-in-the-sand. I set up my tent took off my boots, crawled into my tent, laid my head down, and then…

“BOOM!” a thunderous cry ran free in the distance and light flashed across the sky. I propped myself up to further examine the sky. The storm was on descending from the mountains. It was on its way. My initial reaction was to ignore it, but five minutes later I decided I needed to do something. I don’t know if this has any sliver of intellect or potential at all, but I was considering how my tent and I were the only things sticking up on this white expanse. We were undoubtedly the one and only lightning target. I know lightning is prone to strike the tallest object and is partial to metal. So I took my trekking pole, extended it, walked a few feet away, and erected my personal lightning rod. Back in my tent I went. The wind started to pick up, and the sides of my tent nervously flapped. The storm inched its way forward becoming more boisterous.

Should I stay or should I go, my mind when back and forth and back and forth, ping-ponging from one side to another, until I settled, on I gotta make it back to the car. I quickly packed up and started on my way. But which way? It was dark now, and I had become disoriented. Everything out here looked the same. I didn’t know which way to go. I started, and about ten minutes in, I realized I had no idea where I was headed. For my own psychological well-being, if this storm was going to be upon me, I figured I’d rather be inside my tent than standing up on the sand completely exposed. I made my way back to my tent and set up my tent once again. I was going to be stubborn. I was going to stay. But my stubbornness only lasted for about another ten minutes, until doubt crept back in.

Then I attuned my ears to the sounds of some other campers somewhere in the distance. I couldn’t see them, but I could hear them laughing and being all giddy-like. I entertained, for a while, the idea that if there was really danger I would wait until that party packed up and started heading back to the cars. But the storm grew closer and closer and these people seemed so unfazed. Then the responsible and reasonable me considered that I was waiting to take lead from people who were probably drunk and high. I need to take matters into my own hands. Better safe than dead, I concluded. I packed up my tent once again and headed out. Mistake number 2 was that I failed to make a waypoint on my GPS when I started my journey from the parking lot. I would have to follow the system of numbered stakes back. It would take longer. I went from one number to another, and they didn’t match up. How did I go from 2 to 11 and then from 11 to 5. I was not following the sequence. My feet were racing and stumbling over themselves in the soft sand. It was uncomfortable, I was struggling and far from being collected or stoic, but I was determined to get back to my car before the lightning reached the area.

About twenty minutes later I thought I had found my way, until I read the number. I was back at my site. The realization that I just walked in a circle hit me in a very unsettling way. It was like the sandscape was playing tricks on me and mocking me. I felt like I was in one of those terrible nightmares, where you realize you are dreaming, but no matter how hard you try you just can’t wake up and snap out of it. Panic really began to set it. I was about ready to throw it all on the ground, lay down, bury my face in the sand, and face my horrible fate of being struck and fried by lightning, but I don’t give up that easily.

Just when so much sand collected in my shoes, that it forced my feet out of my boots and I stumbled around barefoot, I reached what seemed to be the pearly gates of the roads paved with gold. It was simply the parking lot, ever so comforting and reliving.

BOOM! Light flashed in the darkness.

The storm was very near. I was very glad I made the decision to come back to my car.

Never in my adult life have I camped in my car. It was against my rules. I would always take the time to set up a tent and enjoy the night air and stretch out my legs. I would break my rules tonight. I am tall, my car was compact. I was crutched up. I cracked the windows, but it was stuffy. This was not how it was supposed to be. Here I was feeling pitiful. My White Sands camping experience was ruined. This was supposed to be a trip of peace and rejuvenation. That same morning I had locked my keys in the car, and now I had just escaped a lightning storm and was crunched up in a compact car in the blustery sand plains of New Mexico.

Then…

Bright lights shown in my window. Someone had their vehicle high beams pointed at me. It was a law enforcement park ranger. He informed me I was not allowed to camp in my car. I told him I came back because of the storm, and in the visitor center, I was told I could do so. He asked for my license, permit, and fee receipt. Wait? What? Receipt? I didn’t have a receipt. I didn’t pay anything for my permit. Was I supposed to? I was.

I was trying to figure out how could I possibly be at fault. Shouldn’t the permit issuers have collected my fee?

The officer wrote me a ticket for $150. “Pay your $3 camping fee on the way out in the morning, or you will be stuck with this fine.

I explained to him how I would never intentionally break a rule in a National Park, and I explained how I actually volunteer with the National Park Service in the Big South Fork. He was friendly and understanding, but still stern. He pulled out a piece of paper, which I had never previously been presented with, that stated “no sleeping in vehicles.” After giving me the run around I asked: “Well where am I supposed to sleep tonight?”

“You can just sleep in your car,” he replied.

Feeling like a convicted criminal, I slept in my car. I felt like I had betrayed my beloved National Park Service. My pride had taken a fall. I always felt like I was a part of the NPS now I felt like a foe. And I was the one seeking peace and solitude. It’s not like I was hooking up on the sandscape with booze and marijuana. I felt like the law enforcement officer painted me as someone I wasn’t.

Feeling pitiful and exhausted, I fell asleep.

I woke up in the middle of the night to the car rocking back and forth from the wind. I pushed myself up to look out the window. I couldn’t see anything. The storm indeed was here, and it had picked up the sand and violently tossed it about in a complete white out.

Well, this was the safest I was going to get. I laid back down. I may have broken rules, my night might have been a messy escape from danger, but I felt I had made the right decision. The turmoil outside put my mind at ease for the decisions I had made, and I went to sleep again to the sound of the roaring wind.

Check back next Wednesday for the next “episode” in the adventure.

Click here for the previous entry: https://joshthehodge.wordpress.com/2019/03/06/3-rattlesnakes-and-a-frenchman/

Check out my book “Among Blue Smoke and Bluegrass” on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Among-Blue-Smoke-Bluegrass-Tennessee/dp/1790631297

Read Tricia’s White Sands experience here: http://roadtriptheworld.com/2015/08/backpacking-white-sands/