Rio Grande Gorge, Gorge Bridge, and my host. Near Taos, New Mexico
“That doesn’t mean anything to me I’m from New Jersey!”
I recently spent 24 hours in a land where license plates declare “Land of Enchantment.” Specifically, Taos, New Mexico - to visit my son Grant. He shared an encounter with a middle-aged mountain biker in the Carson Wilderness area:
“I just got reamed out for riding a mountain bike in a wilderness area!?” said the flabbergasted mountain biker.
“Yeah, you can’t ride bikes in wilderness areas!” Grant affirms.
“That doesn’t mean anything to me I’m from New Jersey! There are no signs saying no bikes.”
I too might as well been from New Jersey. New Mexico seems a foreign land.
Grant and I are on Devisadero Peak in Carson National Forest – a roughly 1,100 foot climb to 8,304 feet above sea level. 12 hours earlier I was sleeping in Maryland at 863 feet.
“Your legs are screaming,” my son tells me.
“My lungs are screaming,” I blurt panting like a cat panting like a dog.
“Yeah, you have not acclimated to the higher altitude.”
“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” I joke. At least I have an excuse.
Up above (really) dark clouds are gathering. “Do you think it will rain?” I ask pensively.
Grant looks up, and turns to me and grins, “It might… it is Monsoon season.” His eyes return to the valley, “Look, a dust storm.”
“Do you think it will come this way?” I ask pensively.
Grant’s grin turns to a smile. “It might.”
That night in the cool breeze rafts across the deck of the Gorge Restaurant. The bartender ruefully notes that he has banned talk of politics. “People just argue,” he says wearily.
I volunteer, “That means something to me, I am from Maryland.” The bartender looks quizzically from me to Grant.
“Inside joke,” Grant offers. The bartender shrugs.
The next morning, it’s off to mountain bike, presumably so my legs and lungs can scream again. We drive across the Taos Mesa. A mesa –tableland - is an elevated area with a flat top. Taos Mesa is truly flat, and barren - no trees. A RV park sits baking in the hot sun. According to taosmesa.us the Taos Mesa has “become a Mecca for off-the-grid lifestyles.”
That doesn’t mean anything to me.
Suddenly the mesa gives way to a gorge – a sheer drop of 656 to the Rio Grande River. We are crossing the 1,280 foot Gorge Bridge – the 2nd highest bridge in the U.S. highway system.
Just past the bridge we park and take off down the Gorge Trail. “This one will be easy,” my son volunteers, “watch out for the cactus.”
Suddenly, Frank Zappa’s Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow pops to mind:
“Watch out where the Huskies go, don’t you eat that yellow snow.”
And becomes:
“Watch out where the cactus grow, and don’t you fall on your elbow.”
Such is the high altitude brain in the Land of Enchantment.
The Gorge Trail follows the Rio Grande - flat and easy. But, at one point the trail is 5 feet from the gorge. I lean right and look for cactus…
Hmmm… 24-hour recap:
50-degree evenings with a cool breeze.
90-degree days with 17% humidity
8,000-foot lookouts and 700-foot gorges.
Hiking and mountain biking.
Monsoons and dust storms
Weary bartenders and off-the gridders.
It all means something to me. New Mexico truly is a Land of Enchantment.
How about you? Where did you travel this summer? Share a story!
