One Man's Odyssey

Hamilton Mesa and Mora Flats - Trip Report

"Are we looking east? Oh my God. You must have one great view of the Sangre De Cristos." - Walter White, in Breaking Bad

After a long, beautiful drive through the Pecos Valley in northern New Mexico, followed by an, at times, whiplash-inducing drive up FR 223 to Iron Gate Campground, the Hamilton Mesa trail 249 puts the southern Pecos Wilderness on bare display, and those willing to endure the drive and, all things considered, easy hike will have the rich, stunning landscape revealed to them. Just don't forget your sunscreen!

Camp in Mora Flats

History

Hamilton Mesa and Mora Flats are popular hiking and fishing destinations in the Pecos Wilderness, northern New Mexico's largest wilderness (and a favorite of mine). The Pecos Wilderness has a special place in my heart because it is where I did my first successful backpacking trip, ironically, a failed trip to Lake Katherine where we unknowingly stopped less than a quarter mile from our goal. I consider it a success because I didn't have to bail out, unlike previous trips.

View of the southern 12ers of the Pecos Wilderness

While I am unaware of any particular historical facts surrounding Hamilton Mesa and Mora Flats, the history surrounding the region is old and deep. Like most of northern New Mexico, the Pecos Wilderness was once divvied up into Land Grants handed down by the Spanish government for communal use among the area's settlers. The histories of these grants are controversial, so I will not attempt to give more than this cursory explanation. Just west of Hamilton Mesa, the Pecos River runs alongside Beatty's Cabin, the site of an early 20th century Anglo ranch that has a book dedicated to it. To the southwest lies Penitente peak, named for self-flagellating religious fraternity of the region, and Lake Katherine, rumored to have been named by J. Robert Oppenheimer for his friend, Katherine Chaves Page (I personally doubt that he named it, and I think this stems from an anachronistic "legend" that he named it after his wife, Katherine "Kitty" Oppenheimer), nestled beneath the slopes of Santa Fe Baldy. North of the Mesa are Cerrito Del Padre, named for a hermit padre who would live in the woods and give blessings to the shepherds who visited him in the wilderness, and Chimayosos peak, named for the people of that famed and stunning valley community.

Pecos Baldy (left) and East Pecos Baldy (right)

Why go into this much detail about the history of the Pecos Wilderness? What is so enticing about the Hamilton Mesa trail is that if the Pecos Wilderness were a symphony, Hamilton Mesa could act as an overture. Every >12,000' peak south of North Truchas is visible from the Mesa's gentle slopes. Where else can you stand in one point and see the imposing, vaguely Lovecraftian, Trailrider's Wall stretch from East Pecos Baldy to South Truchas Peak, and, at the same time, marvel at the twin cirques of Santa Fe Baldy's East face that so starkly contrast its West face?

LtoR: Trailrider's Wall, South Truchas, Medio Truchas, North Truchas, Chimayosos

Options for hiking from Hamilton Mesa abound as well. The popular spots include Beatty's Flats and Cabin, Mora Flats, and Pecos Falls. The spots that are on my radar but have scant information on the web are Gascon Point, Santiago Lake, and Lost Bear Lake.

Early view in the hike overlooking Valdez canyon

Day 0

We drove up the unpaved FR 223 to the Iron Gate Campground where we would spend the first night, despite the high wind warnings which were supposed to abate by sunset. This drive affords excellent views of the southern 12ers and the Pecos Valley as it pulls away from view. However, high clearance is a necessity, and I would err on the side of 4WD, though it may not be necessary.

We set up camp in a surprisingly empty campground replete with firewood, and enjoyed a clear night with minimal light pollution. I was lucky enough to espy at least half a dozen shooting stars. We were woken up in the middle of the night by a large hiking party from (where else?) Texas getting a late start on the trail.

Several key factors favored this trail. For one, I was joined by my good friend Seth, who has been a part of several of the trips featured on this blog. Needing a break from months of overtime, Seth decided to take a long Memorial Day weekend and fly out to New Mexico to visit me in Los Alamos, Santa Fe, and Albuquerque. Being rather outspoken about his love of all things Colorado, I wanted to show Seth that mountain scenery isn't exclusive to that admittedly awe-inspiring state, but it's a hell of a lot easier to find some solitude in New Mexico than our neighbor to the north. Hamilton Mesa is not only on the easier side, reducing complications from altitude adjustment (the entire 11.5 mile loop described here only requires 1800' of net elevation gain), but its relatively lower elevation (10,483' at highest point) would mean virtually no snow after this thankfully wet winter.

"Lost" on top of Hamilton Mesa

Day 1

Heading off on our hike, we wanted to hike north across the Mesa until meeting up with the Bob Grounds trail going east into the Rio Valdez valley, then follow the Valdez trail until reaching Mora Flats, a series of giant meadows nestled in a canyon with a lush mountain stream.

The hike greets you with immediate views of the southeastern Pecos

The majority of the climb happens in the first two miles, along which eastern views of the Rio Valdez valley present themselves nicely for some early photo-ops. The trail eventually passes through a wooden fence (presumably to keep cows out/in), and shortly after Hamilton Mesa begins to open itself up. Instantly, we were treated with views of Lake Peak, Santa Fe Baldy, and Redonda Peak, as well as the southern Pecos Valley. Unfortunately, we were probably a few weeks too early for wildflower season.

The northern high country greets you as you hike across the Mesa

The Mesa itself is very gradual

As we walked we encountered a fair bit of fauna. We were treated to mule deer sightings the day prior, but today we encountered a grouse, a herd of elk, and a . . . mountain lion? We were hiking with Seth in the lead, and he got suddenly spooked, saying something to the effect of "it's a bobcat!" I looked up and caught a glimpse of a blur running through the woods, but did not see nearly enough to identify what it was. After the trip, Seth realized he didn't know what a bobcat looked like, and was forced to conclude that what he saw was, in fact, a mountain lion!

We also passed some less-than-wildlife, the group of about 12 hikers (all adult men) from the night before, camping on the Mesa. We chit-chatted, and they were surprisingly reluctant to tell us any details about their itinerary (I like to ask for their sake in case they get lost, and, in this case, for my sake so I have a better chance of avoiding sharing camp with a dozen people). One person appeared to be the ring-leader of the group, like a wilderness guide, so this was clearly some kind of guided trip, but we never determined the affiliation.

Intersection with the Bob Grounds trail

Hiking across the meadow looking for the trail

Taking in the high peak scenery

Admiring the still snowy Sangre de Cristos

Continuing north, the Pecos high country came into view. The long stretch of unbroken above-treeline ground (a rarity in New Mexico due to its longitude) from Pecos Baldy, across Trailrider's Wall, to the Truchas group, heading West across Chimayosos to the Trouble Benchmark, and continuing north to unseen Jicarita Peak, was on full display. We passed two springs that were flowing fully, but I cannot speak to how they may be during drier seasons.

Eventually we met up with the Bob Grounds trail and some green, grassy meadows presented themselves to the north and east, along with views to the Cebolla benchmark to the northeast. At this point the trail disappeared. We spent about an hour looking for the trail, thinking we may have lost it or it was under snow, and eventually I dropped my pack and decided to head east until I eventually would have to cross a trail if there was one. I managed to find it, and returned to Seth to inform him. At this point, the large group had caught up with us and stopped for lunch, and the guide, who had clearly spent more time than I in the Pecos, informed us that the trail down to the Valdez canyon was intermittent and more of a route. We followed the trail I had found, which did end up disappearing now and again, and with the help of GPS, which was accurate for this portion of the trail, made it to our intersection with the Valdez trail. For the sake of people who may attempt this trail without GPS, I'll do my best to describe the route.

The trail runs right below this "hump" from left to right

Large meadow near the trail intersection

Going north, after passing the sign for the Bob Grounds trail, continue north, and, after a small copse of trees, go right (east) right below the steeper, wooded portion of the slope, but above the green meadow. If you go this direction long enough, you will encounter an obvious trail that is easy to follow for the next half mile or so. From what I remember, there comes a point where there is a rock cairn on your immediate right, and look to your left (east) to find a large pole sticking out of the ground. Make a beeline to it, and the trail reappears headed south. From here the general route is easy to follow, though the trail may disappear and reappear, and as long as you lose altitude you will eventually hit the river.

Following the intermittent trail south into Valdez canyon

Looking back up the partially snowy Mesa

The Valdez trail was easy to follow, but, contrary to the USFS map, the trail does cross the river twice. If it is flowing high enough to prevent a rock hop or log climb, I would recommend sticking to the steeper west bank, even though there is no trail, for the first (northerly) crossing, since the trail spends only a dozen yards or so on the east bank, but the second (southerly) crossing will require a crossing, as it is much longer.

Dropping in to flank the Rio Valdez

Hiking into the Flats

With wet boots, we hiked the rest of the way to Mora Flats, where we set up camp and relaxed after our surprisingly strenuous hike. I am mostly acclimated to the altitude, having been here for 2+ weeks, but searching for the trail put on a couple extra unexpected miles and a nasty sunburn on my nose, face, and neck. The flats themselves are two sets of meadows. We camped at the northern set of meadows, which, while large, is not as impressive as the southern set of meadows, which would have required a wet crossing to get to. Camping is abundant at both, and I wish I had a rod, reel, and license to catch some cutthroat trout and cook them over the fire.

Day 2

Our second and last day was mostly uneventful, with a gradual climb out of the Valdez canyon and back onto the Hamilton Mesa trail. We made it back to the trailhead by 9:30 AM, and headed into Santa Fe for some much-deserved Blake's Lotaburger.

Reentering the woods from the northerly Flats

Looking at the southerly flats from the trail

Lots of burn in the surrounding area

Miscellany

I think I said last blog that I was going to do the Art Loeb trail, and then I was off to New Mexico. Well, I tried the Art Loeb trail, but due to an unexpected (serious and not mine) trail injury, Art Loeb did not work out. But, I had the fun experience of being stuck at a trailhead without a car and no cell service, which is a pretty miserable feeling. Thankfully, the fine people at the Daniel Boone Scout Camp were able to help us out, letting us use their phone to call for a ride and giving medical treatment. Given the situation, things could have been much worse, and we were grateful for their kindness and for the fact that they were even there at all, as it was the off-season, and there is normally nobody there unless a local school is having a field trip there, which was the case this time.

I did do one trip that I did not report here, and that was another attempt of Caballo Mountain identical to that detailed in an old post here, with the difference being that I backpacked in and camped overnight, then attempted the shorter 8 mile day hike the next day, followed by a 3 mile backpack out. This time, I took my GPS so I knew I could find the trail. What I found instead was a vague semblance of what had been a trail, completely overgrown with brush and obstructed by treefall. I gave it the old college try, and made it about a quarter mile before a branch snapped back and hit me in the eye. At that point, I realized the climb would take hours, and gave up to head back. For all intents and purposes, that trail no longer exists, and, at best, it would be considered a route.

The Foothills Trail (West-to-East, Sections A14-A7) - Trip Report

"Sometimes you have to lose yourself 'fore you can find anything." - Lewis, in Deliverance

Most college students who spend spring break in South Carolina spend it in Myrtle Beach or Hilton Head. I did not. Instead, I traveled to Northwest South Carolina and Southwest North Carolina to hike the Foothills Trail from west to east (that's a lot of directions).

History

The Foothills Trail is a 76.2-mile long trail that is mostly in South Carolina and dives in and out of numerous gorges while periodically traversing mountain ridges in the southeastern-most reaches of the Appalachian Mountains.

Going west-to-east, which seems the most popular option, takes one from Oconee State Park to Table Rock State Park, passing over Sassafrass Mountain, the highest mountain in South Carolina, in between.

Day 1

I left for Table Rock State Park in the morning (about 5 hours from Raleigh) and catch a shuttle to Oconee State Park, then get to one of the campsites in the guidebook between 5 and 12 miles into the hike. I got my picture taken at the Oconee trailhead and marched off, knowing I had 76.2 miles to go until freedom. My plan was to hike from Tuesday until Sunday, which would come to an average of 12.7 miles per day. However, I really wanted to get back to Raleigh Saturday, bumping that average up to 15.3 miles per day.

With only 4 hours of daylight after getting on the trailhead, I was determined to put in a big chunk of mileage. In my experience, there are essentially no campsites that aren't listed in the guidebook, so I had two campsites in mind. After spending a combined 6 hours in cars, I had a head full of steam and a ton of energy, taking off at a pace that I was determined to set as the standard for the trip, 8 miles every 3 hours. Section A14 was a nice stroll over some ridge tops, with views over the Piedmont, but the tree coverage was too much to translate well into pictures. Already, the sun was beating on me and the weather felt hotter than the 64 F my weather app claimed it to be. I quickly came upon my first campsite option and easily decided that continuing on was the best option.

Well-Maintained Trail

Piedmont View

Section A13 is extremely short and is never very far from the road. There are continued views of the Piedmont, but otherwise nothing in the way of water or camping options.

One of many footbridges

I continued on into Section A12, and eventually came to Lick Log Falls, a nice, short waterfall with an abundance of nearby campsites. Gauging my options, I elected to stay here and gathered up just enough dry wood for a small fire. I ate grits and drank hot cocoa and fell asleep listening to the falls. Spirits were high.

Lick Log Falls

No camping next to the falls, but plenty ~50 yards away

Day 2

Daylight savings had just come into effect, and as a result, waking up at 7:00 AM (sleeping in by my usual standards) meant waking up before the sun. I opted for a cold breakfast of granola bars and was on the trail by 7:30 AM. The trail climbs out of the canyon formed by Lick Log Creek to the rim of a gorge above the Chatooga River, which here forms the border between Georgia and South Carolina (the filming location for the film Deliverance is several miles downstream in Talullah Gorge). The trail parallels the river, but it does not run right next to the river the entire time. It actually dips in and out of gorges next to the river, and while the views of the river are excellent, the effect on the body is pain. Some areas of this section are exquisite, and the river churns over and around giant knife-edges formed by boulders. This reminds me of the Linville Gorge Trail, and while the trail is generally well maintained, this section was where most of the downed trees were. Eventually the trail goes through some sandy sections, thankfully not too long, and skirts up right to the edge of the river. I passed a group of 7 or 8 middle school girls and went on to Burrell's Ford campground, site of an old ford pioneers used to use. I did like thinking how some of the trail may have been tread by the famous explorer, for lack of a better term, John Bartram.

Sunrise

Overlooking the Chatooga

The trail abuts the river

At this point, having hiked about 8 miles, I sat and ate a light brunch of granola bar and muesli with Nido fortified powdered milk, which is actually pretty good when eaten like this. I continued on, planning on doing my expected 16 miles, but at this point I was feeling a little worn out from all the ups and downs along the Chatooga. I have never done a thru-hike like this before, and perhaps it's due to my personality, but it was very hard for me to relax. Every single minute felt like it was time I could have been hiking. Hiking 16 miles in one shot sounds easy when you're lying in a tent, but in practice it is mentally and physically taxing. However, the plans one makes start to feel like commitments, and to not hike 16 miles becomes a failure.

I pushed on over the Burrell's Ford Section A10, which traverses the Medlin Mountain ridge, the 3rd highest part of the hike. I did not personally find the views here much to write home about. This lack of visual stimulation lead to some despair, as I was getting tired and the weather on my app was showing rain all day the next day and storms all day the next, leading me to believe my Saturday goal would not be achieved unless I put even more miles in today. This section was also virtually devoid of water sources.

I pushed into the Fish Hatchery Road Section A10, which drops into a canyon in which the East Fork Chatooga River flows. This section is honestly a blur to me, and I remember little because I was totally exhausted by now. I should have camped along the East Fork, but I was not yet at my 16 mile goal, so I pushed on. Typically at this point in a hike, my feet and legs would be in a lot of pain, but I recently bought new boots that had pretty much alleviated that. Instead, the source of pain was my pack. I tried to keep my base weight down, but being my first hike of such a long distance, I overpacked, especially when it came to food, and my total pack weight, not including water, was between 35-40 lbs. Some things I could easily leave home include: extra batteries for headlamp (barely use it, and if it has fresh batteries at the start of the trip it will be fine), extra tent stakes (no high winds in forecast), a lot of the food I brought, GPS (basically impossible to lose the trail), and some other things. Another gear mistake was bringing the Sawyer Squeeze Mini. I got this filter for Christmas, and I tested it before I came on this trip with good results, but I only needed to filter a little bit of water when I tested it. The amount of time it takes to process 2-3 liters of water is on the order of an hour, and it is not practical. Because it took so long to filter water, and to keep my pack weight down, I was not filtering enough water as I hiked as I should have been, and I am fairly sure I was dehydrated by the end of the day. The filter would be good to keep in a car in case of emergency or to use on a day hike when all you need is a Smartwater bottle, but I will never bring this on a backpacking trip again.

The Sloan Bridge Section A9 had some great views of Lake Jocassee and the Bad Creek reservoir as I crossed into North Carolina. My pack at this point was weighing quite heavily on me (especially my upper back and chest, beginning to cause breathing pain), and I was extremely thirsty. I did finally stop at a water source, but after filtering for 20 minutes I only had 2-3 cups of water. I came upon a spur trail that lead to campsites, which was my last option for camping for the next 8 miles, but since it was only 3:00 PM, I decided (wrongly) to continue on.

Lake Jocassee far; Bad Creek Reservoir near

I switched-back down to the road access to the Upper Whitewater Falls Section A8 access, where I had been with my shuttle driver just 24 hours before, and braced myself for the remaining 6 miles. The next 6 miles of switchbacks and stairclimbing was unbearable, and the weight of the pack plus my minor dehydration were punishing me. Unfortunately, despite what I would retrospectively call the most beautiful part of the trail I did, I did not have the energy to appreciate the Upper Whitewater Falls, which are the tallest falls east of the Mississippi and completely breathtaking.

Taken from the bottom of Upper Whitewater Falls

I passed the intersection to the trail coming from the Bad Creek Access Section A7, and dragged myself to a campsite with a pitiful, but nonetheless flowing, water source. I shared camp with 2 other small groups, but the noise was minimal, and I was so exhausted and thirsty that I could have fallen asleep to anything. I ate nothing due to nausea and filtered water as fast as I could, boiling a pot of unfiltered water to speed up the process. I realized at this point that I had some combination of dehydration and exhaustion, and tried to figure out what I could stomach that would replenish electrolytes, and hot cocoa did the job enough to make me feel good about going to sleep. Total mileage for the day was 24 miles, and I had made up my mind to bail out the next day.

Day 3

I woke up, filtered more water, and felt a little more normal. I had second thoughts about bailing out, but there is no road access on the trail for the next ~30 miles, so I texted my shuttle driver and arranged a ride from the Bad Creek access. My legs and feet felt fine, but after putting on my pack to hike the 2 miles to the road access, my breathing pain was still present, and I felt comfortable in my decision.

Hiking back to the road

In postmortem, I tried to do too much (obviously). Had I committed mentally to finishing Sunday, forced myself to take all day to do 16 miles, and not tried to squeeze in extra miles, I would have done it. My pack was heavy, and could have been lightened, but it was not alone the source of my troubles. Hiking 24 miles in a day (or 16 miles in 6 hours) is not appropriate with that pack weight, and I could have gotten away with it if I were on the ultralight spectrum of things.

I look forward to using these lessons learned to go back and complete the hike. I only have 44 miles left and could comfortably finish in 4 days. I plan on coming back for fall break in 2019 and getting the Peregrine Award!

Miscellany

This is my first blog of 2019, so Happy New Year! I will be going back to New Mexico this summer for a shorter summer than last year, but I still plan on getting at least one overnight trip a month in while I'm there. I wanted to spend more time in Colorado, but snowfall has been above average this year (versus last year's drought), so I may only get one trip in. I am planning on doing the Art Loeb Trail near Brevard, NC, on Easter weekend, and will make a post for that if it all goes well. I am also happy to say that I will be attending the M&C 2019 conference in Portland, OR, this year, and I am planning on renting a car to do a long day hike in the Mount Hood National Forest.

My time in North Carolina feels like it's winding down. As I write this, I am writing my PhD proposal, and I personally do not feel it will take me more than a year after my prelims to get my degree. Thus, I am considering a bucket list of things I want to see before I leave. Finishing the Foothills Trail is certainly on that list. I also would like to summit Clingman's Dome, Mt. Mitchell, and Mt. Rogers, the highest peaks in TN, NC, and VA, respectively. Finally, I'd love to go to the Outer Banks. With the driving distance it takes for me to get to these places, those very well could be all my future backpacking trips before leaving the state.

Linville Gorge Wilderness - Quickie (and an Update)

"That man is the richest whose pleasures are the cheapest" - Henry David Thoreau

So, I haven't posted in awhile, and it will likely be quite awhile longer until I am able to post again. Therefore, I thought it would be appropriate to post an update on my current status and speculate as to when I will be able to get back on the trail. I will start out with a brief review of a recent overnight trip in the Linville Gorge, then talk about my upcoming plans and long-term overnight goals, and finally talk a little about my trip back from Los Alamos to Raleigh, which included Great Sand Dunes National Park and the Kentucky Bourbon Trail.

Linville Gorge Wilderness - Babel Tower to Conley Cove Loop

Day 1

On October 13, we had planned to drive to the Linville Gorge West Rim to hike from the Bynum Bluff trailhead, enter the gorge, and hike back up via the Conley Cove trail, then try to catch a ride or walk the forest road back to the car. We planned this to be a leisurely 2 night trip, about 12 miles in total length. Unfortunately, being a weekend in October, permits were required to camp on a Saturday night. This would not have been an issue, except the ranger station had run out of permits Friday morning (as an aside: it's worth noting that the website misleadingly implies that there is a fixed allotment of permits given out both on Friday and Saturday, not that there is a fixed allotment of permits for Friday and Saturday that are given out starting Friday, which is actually the case). Fortunately, the unpaved forest road that traverses the West Rim is loaded with quality campsites, and even on this beautiful fall weekend there were plenty of options for us. We opted to stay at the "Old Conley Campsite", which is just outside the Wilderness limits, which we legally needed a permit to camp in. With the day ahead of us, we hiked the Rock Jock Trail to Razor Point and back, a roughly 3 mile trip.

Table Rock Mountain from Rock Jock

Hawksbill Mountain

The Chimneys

Looking south into the gorge

Blue Jay Falls

Struggling campfire

The Rock Jock trail is a great hiking trail, with magnificent views and some awesome campsites (that we could not camp at). However, unless you want to do an out-and-back or add forest road mileage, it does not make the best backpacking trail. We found enough dry wood to get a fire going, no simple task considering the remnants of Hurricane Michael had passed through the area two days prior.

Day 2

We left the car at the parking lot, packed up, and hiked up the forest road to the Babel Tower trailhead. From here, the plan was hike to Babel Tower, continue into the gorge, camp, then hike back up to Conley Cove the next day. All told, we'd be hiking 8-ish miles, but remember that "every mile in the gorge feels like two". Unfortunately, we were surprised with a solid 3 hours of rain after waking up. Rain had been in the forecast when we checked the day before, but it was not supposed to come until later. The updated forecast showed that front had moved up, but would be heading out before too long. While the hike started out reminiscent of Shenandoah due to opaque fog, the cloud coverage thankfully just thinned enough to give us some views of cloud-flanked mountaintops.

Cloudy Table Rock Mountain

Once at Babel Tower we encountered a very large group of overnighters who probably were responsible single-handedly for there being no permits the night before. The harrowing climb up Babel Tower would have been a tad easier were the rocks not soaking wet, but we made it up with no injuries and took in the view.

Looking down at the river from Babel Tower

View from Babel Tower

From here we decided that we would finish our hike in a single day to avoid missing work on Monday and settled on trekking the remaining grueling 6 miles through and out of the gorge back to the car. When we had done our March trip, we had barely spent time in the gorge proper, as most of the hike was along the East Rim. Thus, I had not experienced the torture that is hiking the Linville Gorge Trail that flanks the Linville River at the gorge bottom. Partially due to heavy rain, seemingly every foot of this trail was one of the following: ankle-killing rockiness, mud, rushing stream requiring a rock hop lest you wanted soaked boots, slippery rock that would send you rocketing into the river, probably killing you, steep uphill, or steep downhill. As a result, we maintained barely a 1 mph hiking pace. As a rule of thumb, I average about 3 mph on easy terrain, 2 mph on uphills, downhills, or rocky terrain, and 1 mph only on the steepest mountain climbs.

The river at this point is probably 30-40 feet wide due to heavy hurricane flow

We passed where we had planned on crossing the river on our failed Linville Gorge Loop attempt back in March and marveled at how high the water was (over 10x greater flow rate than in March). We also saw a lot of trash, which made me a little less upset about the permit situation. It's a shame that such a beautiful place gets utterly trashed, probably mostly by inexperienced hikers carrying too much stuff in the first place. Many of the people we've talked to at the gorge decry the difficulty of hiking and route-finding. Personally, with the exception of the actual Linville Gorge Trail, which will obliterate your joints, but is not exhausting in itself, the difficulty and route-finding is pretty par for the course with what I've experienced in New Mexico and Colorado, especially given the documented availability of campsites and water sources.

We hiked up the Conley Cove trail, which, despite being all uphill, was a welcome respite from the ankle-grinder that was the Linville Gorge Trail. All told, the uphill and downhill portions were the easiest parts of this hike, which is rarely the case. Admittedly, the difficulty of the Linville Gorge Trail was at least partially due to the massive amount of rainfall the region had experienced several days prior, making rocks slippery, mud more common, and creek crossings more pronounced. My honest opinion is that aside from the challenge of hiking in the gorge, there isn't much to see on the Linville Gorge Trail. The rims are the real show at Linville, but the unfortunate lack of reliable crossing points (flow generally needs to be below 50 cfs to make a safe northern crossing; it was 1000 cfs when we came and 80 cfs last March) makes stringing together a loop such as this impractical. I am making something of a bucket list when it comes to North Carolina hiking, since my remaining time as a PhD student is likely less than 2 years, so I don't know if I make it back to the gorge before I leave. If I do, I would love to try to do the "Is That All You Got?" Loop, which is very similar to the Linville Wilderness Loop we attempted in March.

What's Ahead?

Unfortunately, I am and have been incredibly busy until roughly late-January. Lindsey and I are taking a joint birthday trip to England and Ireland in mid-January, and just about every weekend between now and then is spoken for. I had considered doing an overnight trip in November or December in the nearby Birkhead Mountains Wilderness, part of the Uwharrie National Forest, but despite my utter disdain for hashtag trends, Lindsey and I decided it would be best if we #optoutside on Black Friday and do a long day-hike there. It may be for the best anyway, since this summer took a toll on my backpacking equipment. My boots are one or two trips away from falling apart, my rain jacket and hiking pants got torn up on the Linville trip, and I don't actually own any cold weather hiking gear, just heavy sweaters.

Recently I got it in my head to do the Trans-Zion Trek in Zion National Park. Zion National Park has been on my bucket list for awhile now, and because of its proximity to Las Vegas, it actually appears to be a rather affordable trip. I am eyeing October 2019 as a good time to do it. However, I need to train myself to do this sort of mini-thru hike, so I am considering doing either the ~30 mile Art Loeb Trail or some or all of the 76 mile Foothills Trail as a trainer come spring break. Either of these would be a big step for me on my backpacking journey, especially since I'd be hiking alone.

Other than that, I will probably be silent until January at the earliest if I dare to do a cold weather hike before spring break. I am sure Lindsey will post about Christmas and birthday travels, so I will still be around. Hopefully you hear from me sooner than later, but have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! What follows is a description of my last two weekends in New Mexico as well as my eventful road trip back to Raleigh.

Last Two Weekends in New Mexico

Santa Fe Baldy

Santa Fe Baldy is moderately long (~14 miles round-trip) day-hike accessible via the Winsor Trail at the Santa Fe Ski Area. Because we were in monsoon, I wanted to get on the trail as early as possible, managing to get to the trailhead at 4:30 AM, well before sunrise even in late summer. The trailhead sits at over 10,000', so even on a mid-August evening the temperatures were probably in the lower 40's. I enjoyed the pristine night sky, saw a couple shooting stars flash by, and began my hike, watching the city of Santa Fe in the distance slowly light up on this Saturday morning. Not used to hiking at night, the rustling trees admittedly spooked me quite a bit until the sun rose enough for me to see more than what my headlamp illuminated. I followed the Winsor Trail, which crosses several streams that will eventually meet the Rio Grande as the morning sun lit the northern slopes of Lake and Penitente Peak until I reached the popular camping meadows of Puerto Nambe.

Puerto Nambe

From here, I turned onto the Skyline Trail #251, which switchbacks up to a saddle that overlooks the Espanola Valley to the west and the Pecos Valley to the east. I encountered a surprising amount of campers, given that it was relatively exposed and monsoon season, and hiked past hail patches that had been deposited by the same weather system that had done likewise in Los Alamos.

From the saddle, left to right: Penitente Peak, Lake Peak, unnamed subpeak

Down into the Pecos Valley

From the saddle one leaves the trail and follows the well-trodden path to the summit of Santa Fe Baldy (12,631'). This is moderately difficult, but given the relative ease of the hike leading up to it, it is not too bad.

Looking back at Lake Peak near the summit

Heading up the summit

At the summit, looking towards the Truchas Group

Looking into the sun at the Pecos Valley

The saddle I came from on the lower left

Looking towards Santa Fe

Looking down the western slopes into the Espanola Valley; too hazy to see the Jemez

Lake Katherine

Official summit cairn

Looking back at the summit

Looking at Lake Katherine made me remember my two trips there (only one successful), and made me realize how badly I wanted to go back. However, based on the traffic headed towards the lake on my hike out, I will not be going on a Saturday night. The hike back was uneventful aside from all the traffic, but the trail condition was surprisingly good given the number of people. Were it not for the clouds amassing, I might have tried to also summit Penitente and Lake Peak. I went to Second Street Brewing and enjoyed a green chile enchilada burger, which was literally a green chile cheesburger topped with a blue corn enchilada. It was amazing. Aside from the length, this is not a strenuous hike, but there is not any water after starting the climb to Puerto Nambe.

Jemez Hike

I had not managed to go into the Jemez at all the entire summer except for my Bandelier trip, and I figured that since I was about to start a 1900 mile road trip I would stay relatively local, hiking from the East Fork trailhead to Battleship Rock and back. My main goal was to find the McCauley Warm Springs. This hike was not particularly eventful, but it was harder than I had anticipated, mostly due to the high heat and humidity caused by rains the night before. The rains also made the drive through the Valles Caldera rather foggy and spooky.

Foggy Valles Grande

The canyon formed by the East Fork Jemez River; great rock formations and colors

Pool of McCauley Warm Springs

West Rim of Jemez River canyon

Battleship Rock

This hike was a nice way to say goodbye to New Mexico and Los Alamos in particular. I was a little worried there would be nude hippies at McCauley Warm Springs, or that they'd be trashed, since the hot springs in the Jemez tend to have that reputation, but I saw none of either. In fact, the warm springs were truly only warm, and they were not even above the ambient temperature, which was in the mid 80's.

Road Trip Back to Raleigh

My parents met up with me in Alamosa, CO, where we'd spend the next two days and see some of the local sights. I'm not an expert on Colorado, but my understanding is that this south-central region of Colorado is a bit different culturally than the rest of Colorado, since it has distinct Spanish roots. It is culturally more similar to northern New Mexico than, say, Denver or Colorado Springs. The first day, we went to Great Sand Dunes National Park. Great Sand Dunes is mind-blowing, and I enjoyed it more than White Sands, but unless you are going to hike all the way to Star Dune, there is not much to do in one day except hike to the top of High Dune, provided dune sledding doesn't enamor you. Nevertheless, hiking to High Dune is not particularly difficult, but puts enough distance between you and screaming kids to really make the park magical.

Looking out at Star Dune

Atop High Dune

As you can see, this is a pretty dreamlike place. I don't like hiking with music, but if I were going to listen to something here, it would probably be Sleep's Jerusalem album while I hiked to Star Dune.

The following day we drove to San Luis, CO, the oldest town in Colorado, and visited the Shrine of the Stations of the Cross. This is a beautiful shrine, and definitely worth the trip if you have the chance. We also visited Fort Garland, a fort from the pioneer days. At the risk of sounding politically incorrect, I am appreciative for the pioneers who were willing to move out West to eke out a living and for the American servicemen who protected them from Indian raids. Obviously, I wish things could have been different, but they weren't.

Culebra Peak, the only privately-owned 14er in Colorado, in the background

Fort Garland

After that, my dad and I left for our long drive to Raleigh via Kansas City, Louisville, and Lexington. Kansas wasn't as bad as I've heard people say it is. It's not great, but I would put it above panhandle Texas and eastern Colorado. On the third day of our long drive, we stopped at three bourbon distilleries as part of the Kentucky Bourbon Trail. I have been trying to get into whiskey lately, so it was a nice treat to see how the big dogs do distilling. I will say that the tours start to get repetitive, so if you can go on a special tour, I would recommend it. If I had to rank the tours, I would say from best to worst: Woodford Reserve, Jim Beam, Buffalo Trace.