The closets of this little cabin got cleaned out just a few days ago. Seems like special company must be coming.


Swings need to be swung, slides need to be "slid", and the little playhouse needs some play. We need to get some kids out here, and I think some kids are coming!

Fall in the Jemez:

A cold mountain morning.

This is my favorite season in the mountains of Northern New Mexico. As morning progresses, a brilliant, warm sunshine rolls across the land. But the mornings are crisp and cold. This morning was below freezing. If you love a warm fire like I do, that is not a problem, but an opportunity. The wood has been cut, split and seasoned. We enjoyed the fruits of our labor this morning. Heat, light and a perfect atmosphere for our morning coffee.

The land where elks bugle

This is the time of year when the big elk start to gather their harems. Barb and I went to hear them this evening. All of this takes place in the high country twenty miles up the road from our place.

You don't hear the bugling until it gets close to dark. And this high in the mountains, cold comes along with the darkness. It is an erie sound in an erie place. It is a place, a sound, and an experience you will never forget.

Valles Caldera and a night with no safety net.

The place I described as "The land where the elk bugle" is now officially called the "Valles Caldera National Park", perhaps the newest of the federal parks. For many years this land was the privately held Baca ranch, consisting of over 89,000 acres. You can google "Valles Caldera" for some amazing geological information about this special land. Barb and I first discovered New Mexico as bicycle tourists. And this is the one place, over many years of cycling, that we got ourselves in serious trouble.

We had been following our planned route. We were well conditioned and experienced cyclists. From the Albuquerque airport we had biked to Sante Fe. We left Sante Fe for the high mountain community of Truchas. I was coming down with a bug, and struggled mightily that day. As you approach Truchas from Sante Fe the last eight miles of the trip are steeply uphill, and at high altitude. What would normally have been an enjoyable challenge turned into a very hard day, and all of my physical resources were spent by the time we reached Truchas. We had no vehicle, and no option except to get on the bikes the next morning and head out for Los Alamos (another steep climb) and then a steep assent out of Los Alamos to a small campground adjacent to the borders of the Baca ranch.

The previous day had taken a big toll, and I was totally spent when we got to Los Alamos. I was laying on the grass in the park long past the time when we should have headed up the final mountain climb. Staying in town that night wasn't a very viable option since we had to pedal ourselves and our bicycles all the way to the airport in Albuquerque by the afternoon of the next day. When I knew we couldn't possibly wait any longer for me to recover we got on the bike and started the long steep climb.

As we got a few miles out of town a ride that I expected to be difficult had become impossible. This was 25 years ago, and there was much less traffic than you would experience today. We were now walking the bikes, which is a pretty grim prospect when it is too far to go back and you are several miles from your destination in a wild mountain area you have never seen before. A cowboy driving back to the Baca ranch stopped to pick us up, throwing the bikes in the back of the truck. He was the silent type, and the only thing I remember him saying was he never picks up people just standing by the road. He liked the idea that we were still trying to get over the pass, even though we were reduced to walking.

He let us out before he turned into the long dirt road leading to the bunk house. It was only a few miles, somewhat down hill, to the campground that was our destination. Though utterly exhausted we managed to get our little tent up and sleeping bags unfurled. It was already cold, but we had no idea that it would get much colder before morning. You can't carry a lot of equipment on a bicycle trip in the mountains. Our bags were not nearly warm enough, and our physical resources were spent. We heard the strange sound of elk bugling all around us. I knew this was going to be a bad night, but we had run out of options. The campground was empty except for our little tent, and it was too dark, too cold, and we were way too tired. We were going to spend the night with what we had, there was no safety net.

We did everything we could think of to stay warm. Coming from Minnesota I knew the signs of hypothermia, and they were there in our little tent. Everything was slowing. My life felt like a rheostat, and the power was being turned down. The next thing I remembered was the sun hurting my eyes through the tent. As I stirred and bumped the tent a little ice storm, the remnants of the nights frozen breath, fell on us.

The warmth of the New Mexico sun was going to bring us back from the brink. We laid out on a picnic table and it felt wonderful. I think Barb said something about us having a new bond with the little lizards we had seen out on their rocks, and now we really knew how good it could feel. We were thirsty, and our water bottles had frozen solid. They were frozen but intact, and we knew the sun would solve this problem as well. We got on our bikes and got into the Albuquerque airport with a little time to spare.

Twenty five-years later we still love to hear the bugling of the elks. And when we drive up the road to Valles Caldera, we always take warm clothes.

Wildflowers in the Jemez Mountains.

The Wall.

Things get a little tight going through Gilman. Years ago, not even the most agile Jeep could get through here. Travel through here was by foot, and with care. There were, however, substantial lumber interests that needed an outlet for timber taken from the forests behind this rock.

It was a great deal of hard and dangerous work, but two tunnels have been blasted through the rocks. Once I get around this corner the road will continue through the tunnels. If you know what you are doing, and have sufficient nerve, you can get all the way to the top of the canyon wall seen in the center of the picture (the portion showing some blue sky). As you might imagine, the view from the top is spectacular.

My faithful automotive companion.

If you want to get some of these pictures you have to have a way to get there. There has been some talk about too many cars in the Smith household, but I don't think my little red companion is going anywhere soon---except out to the back country.

Fall approaches the Jemez.

Fall has arrived in the Jemez. The weather in New Mexico is glorious this time of year. We have received a lot of rain, as is evidenced by this beautiful green field.

Three inviting roads.

A road to solitude.

Road to a mountain spring. The drop offs are steep. You dont want to meet someone on this little road.

A road deep in the Cabezon wilderness.