Showing posts with label southwest. Show all posts
Showing posts with label southwest. Show all posts

Friday, December 9, 2016

In which there is an absence of turns (New Mexico part II).




Earlier this year, my parents bought some land a good 150+ miles southwest of Albuquerque and built a yurt there to use as a weekend and all-purpose retreat/getaway from the city. It sits on the edge of the Cibola National Forest, in a remote area with no streetlights and few neighbors. Getting there involves driving for a couple hours straight south and then straight west, with emphasis on the straight -- at one point while crossing a very long stretch of plains, my friend called out something like "Look, a curve!" when approaching a less-straight length of road, and we all laughed. 

The decision to make an investment in this land partly came from my mother's yearly retreats in a remote canyon, the dramatic beauty of which I got to experience first-hand a couple years ago. Having a cozy, quiet space in a secluded place that was also within driving distance from home has turned into a real treasure for both of my parents and I was eager to see it for myself after months of stories and spotty facetime videos. So, Mom, my friend and I took the first chance we had to drive out in July and spent a few days exploring the land and being quiet. Said friend opted to spend a couple days on his own, and made the airstream trailer on the land his home base while Mom and I cozied up in the yurt.

On the long drive out into the wild west of New Mexico, the clouds were as diverse and exciting as the ever-changing desert mountains, and we drove under some very dark and heavy layers of sky before arriving at our destination. 











The view from the yurt and surrounding terrace is impressive to say the least, with the entire expanse of the San Agustin Plains through which we had just driven, and the mountains beyond. The storm system that had accompanied our route had finally sprung a leak, but far off in the distance. We didn't see any rain until the next afternoon. In the meantime, we got settled in before losing daylight, cooked up something tasty on the gas cooker, and watched darkness settle on the Crosby Mountains and valley below. I was hoping for a star show, but the clouds seemed quite comfortable where they were and didn't budge for a while. Later, I checked back outside and found myself confronted by the entirety of the universe. Never had I seen such a sky. Brain floored, I fetched a blanket and sat on the terrace for a long time, trying to look everywhere at once and hardly able to take in what I was seeing. Pure, astronomical magnificence.





That turned out to be the only chance for star-gazing, as the next two nights were overcast. Thanks for that, universe.

The next day began quietly, with soft pastels across the plains. Mom and I sat wrapped in blankets again outside, sharing slippers and sipping abuelita hot cocoa while the sun slowly stretched its beams in the east. Then, a long walk, and breakfast. 



 


 

 



 

The yurt itself is quite splendid, and was assembled with the help of many neighbors in the surrounding area -- an old-fashioned barn raising. It is insulated against heat and cold, and protected from weather, wind, and lightning. Windows on all sides and in the dome in the roof let in light and view, but can also be blocked to keep heat in or out. There is no electricity, but a gas-powered fridge lets you live with the luxuries of fresh vegetables and milk, and the grill and gas cooker open up a world of possibilities in culinary camping. Solar-powered chargers keep you plugged into the world if so desired, and candles and solar-powered lanterns (not to mention old-fashioned flashlights) let you see in the dark. Dad had recently installed a woodstove, for later seasons. And there's a very comfortable outhouse not far away to help with any other needs you might have.




 


Later, we were out exploring amidst the alligator junipers when we both froze, sensing a very large, hoofed presence nearby. The large hoofed thing was soon out of earshot, and while trying to figure out which way it might have gone, our attention was drawn to a much smaller presence that was letting out soft squeaks from some nearby shrubs. We very slowly approached it, trying to figure out what it was, and finally found a tiny fawn, very wobbly on its thin legs, nosing about clumsily for something to nibble on, seemingly confused as to where it needed to go. There was no sign of a mama deer, or any other deer, except for the sound we'd heard earlier. We kept our distance for a while and just watched it, unsure of what to do. I was afraid of getting too close and our smell getting on it, which might cause the mother to reject it if she came back later. The little thing was so sweet and so weak and pathetic -- it was having trouble walking and we couldn't tell whether its legs were injured or if it was just rusty on them. It also didn't show any fear and came hobbling over to us, though I made sure not to touch it. Mom went to go ask the more wildlife-experienced neighbors about what to do while I kept my eye on it. Eventually it lay down and, consensus being that we should leave it and hope the mother would come back, we went home. Mom went back to check a couple hours later and it was still lying there, no madre. It probably didn't survive the night, weak and exposed as it was. But what could we do? Wish it well, and trust that nature's got this whole thing figured out, though it certainly melancholied an otherwise peaceful evening.





 

Mom and I went on another adventure the next day, wandering down an acequia in the national forest. Everywhere there were signs that water had been there, possibly from the heavy rain we'd had the day before, though the ground was again bone dry.













It stormed again that afternoon, so we holed up in the yurt, drinking tea, reading, listening to the rain and thunder, playing Rummikub.
I. Love. Rummikub.



The clouds were already active on our last morning, and after a short walk, we packed up, tightened the yurt against the wind, and headed back over and up the miles and miles and miles of straight roads towards Albuquerque. 

 

A quick stop at the local gas station was a cultural experience. One side of the sign read "ANYONE BUT HILLARY". The other: "ANYONE BUT BERNIE". That didn't stop us from buying Klondike bars, though. I hope they're happy with how that mess turned out.



Another detour we took was to the Very Large Array, because, why not? Space is cool, but it was very, very hot outside the visitors' center and we didn't stay too long.








A couple other stops were made, solely for landscape-oggling purposes. 














After several hours of driving, we finally arrived back in the world of wifi and traffic lights (for better or worse), the next adventure already in the works.

Monday, January 5, 2015

In which it snows and ballooning gets checked off on the bucket list (New Mexico part V).




To pick up where the last adventure left off, the hiking party split up with the two older members driving south and the two younger members continuing north. We first stopped off in Santa Fe, where we had a peek at the Old Town Plaza and went to the Georgia O'Keeffe Museum. Man, that woman was simply amazing. She's long gone but I've still got such an awesome crush on her, and have for years. Respect.





It was late by the time we were done with fooding and schmoozing, so we stayed the night in the capital before continuing north to Taos the next day, were we were going to visit a dear friend near the toes of the Rockies. (This friend also happens to be an incredible writer with a wonderful blog and three books under her belt.) There we were warmly welcomed into her sweet abode with a view and spoiled with incredible cuisine -- spicy hot cider, gourmet popcorn, amazing chili, purple cornbread with purple tater soup, divine breakfast quinoa with freshly made almond milk... .. . ahhhhh. And wonderful company around a warm kiva fireplace, of course. (Thank you!)

The sky twisted itself up in all sorts of dramatic ways that night, and was photographed in the process on a very cold and very windy stroll.











The sun rose the next morning behind snow-dusted mountains, spilling silently over the violet valley below. We decided that, in order to best and most comfortably explore those towering land masses, it was necessary to drive the 85-mile Enchanted Circle Scenic Byway. As it turned out, this was a most excellent idea. Golden aspens bursting out of a sparkling white wonderland, burbling streams, picnicking in alpine fields... This, too, is New Mexico? How enchanting!



















Unfortunately the car needed to be back in Albuquerque by early evening, and as it couldn't drive itself, we had to cut the adventure short. One quick trip to the heart-thumpening river gorge and it was time for Auf Wiedersehen.

Fortunately we didn't have to wait long for the next adventure, which started early early the next morning. My parents had received a certificate for a private balloon flight (from themselves) for their wedding anniversary and were able to add a couple passengers on at the end. We'd already signed up to fly one morning the week before, but the pilot had decided at the last minute that the weather conditions were not up to par. We had more luck on the second try, hoorah hoorah. Part of the experience is helping to get the balloon set up, which is first rolled out of a van and inflated with industrial fans. Next the pilot uses the burner to pump hot flames (and thus hot air) into the balloon until it rises and the basket can be uprighted. Then we all hop in, and literally before you know it, you're 10, 20 feet off the ground. It's absolutely silent except for the wooshing of the burner from time to time, and as you go fly with the wind, there is no wind, er, blowing on you. This fact plus the burner right above you leads to a pleasantly cozy flying experience.





So, off we went. Rising with the sun over Albuquerque.





I'm always struck at how the city just comes to an abrupt stop and turns into desert, and there was no clearer place to see the difference than here.





Balloon Fiesta had ended a couple days prior, but there were still many other balloonists in the area taking advantage of the beautiful conditions.






Check out those cute little volcanoes on the right! Remember them?





One thing we learned was that dogs are generally extremely annoyed with balloons, one reason being because the burner (or something) lets off a very high pitch not audible to humans, and another being because they're giant unknown objects flying over the dog's home turf and they can't do anything about it. Dogs really did bark at us below throughout the whole flight.



After about an hour in the air, the pilot was hoping to land in a schoolyard. One class of kids at the school was clearly hoping for this as well as they had come outside to wave to us as we approached. But the wind decided otherwise and we ended up landing safely (with one single bump-hop) in the back parking lot of some industrial building, surrounded by semi trucks and barely skimming over an electric fence during the descent. I wasn't too worried as we went down, as the pilot was a very chill and experienced kind of guy. The balloon company van had been following us for the last hour and was soon there to pick us up. As before, we all worked together to deflate the balloon, fold it up, and get the massive thing back into the van in an organized fashion. Check.







I don't really know what else to say, other than it was a really wonderful experience. Almost as wonderful as going to the zoo and seeing baby giraffes. Different wonderful.





The final adventure of the trip (the next day) had to be a sunset jaunt up the tramway to Sandia Peak, because it's Albuquerque and what better way to say farewell to the city than here? Followed by delectable New Mexican cuisine -- red or green?











One more sleep, one more green chili cheese bagel with cream cheese and red pepper jelly, one more snuggle with the three-legged wonder spaniel, and it was time to go. Return to land of Real Life on Planet Germany, in a galaxy far, far away.


(I'm guessing this was somewhere around Chicago.)



I was sad to leave, but not as sad as usual, as I knew I'd be seeing my family again for Thanksgiving in just a few weeks, this time on Planet New England. (With the exception of my Gma, with whom we had had the pleasure of visiting many times while in ABQ. Saying goodbye to her was hard.)
Mostly I was just in awe at the range of things we had experienced and the richness of all the time we'd had there. Gratefulness abounds.