A crowded week

I have to say, I saw more people out in the backcountry this week, than I have seen in all of my time out here up until now.
It was also Bree's last week in the park, she headed back to Michigan this morning, and she came out to spend a couple of days in the cabin with me. I will miss her.
So this was not a week of solitude.
But first thing is first- To any of you that were worried- my shoes are fixed and have been doing well (thanks to the Ortega family of cobblers from Santa Fe) and more importantly- My feet were dry.
I started the week with a long hike out. This time I left from the visitor center, and wasn't dropped of at a trail head by one of the rangers. I chose a relatively long path, along a trail that I have only been on once before. The Burro trail, or as I like to call it- the Bore trail, starts on the Mesa above the visitor center, with a good view of the main attraction- Tyuonyi pueblo, and runs along it all the way down to the Rio Grande river. It's pretty flat, with a very gradual slope towards the river, and switchbacks at the end. Because you are on top of a mesa, and not along the rim, the close view is nothing to write home about (and yet I am writing about it... funny), and the distant view, except for Tyuonyi right at the beginning, can be seen from any high point in the park. So what you have is 9km of a pretty straight trail with junipers and dead pinions, and the occasional mountain lion scat or deer tracks. I tend to zone out when I trek that kind of stuff. The lack of interesting view is a minor disadvantage, but it shrinks at the face of the real problem- the trail connects only to the Rio trail. A trail that runs all along the Rio Grande. Considering all three main canyons in the park end up at the Rio- that could have been a great trail for anyone that didn't feel like climbing the mesas- but a few years ago they had a pretty rainy season and had to stop the water at Cochiti Dam to prevent flooding the farming land down stream from it. That, in turn, caused Cochiti lake to grow and basically engulf the lower portions of the river, right up stream from it, incidentally, the parts that border the park. During that time two things happened- One- The park bought an inflatable boat and had a seasonal ranger live in a boat house on the lake, and Two- quite a bit of trail mileage, most of it of the Rio trail, was abandoned, since is was, in effect, under water. Though the water levels have dropped since then, and no ranger lives in the boat house anymore (I would have killed for that job), the trail was never fixed up and now it's just a path that doesn't even appear on the older maps. All of this makes the Burro trail kind of useless to the average hiker since it leads to nowhere.

I, however, am not the average hiker. I'm the backcountry ranger, with a unexplainable likeness to long bushwhacking hikes. So when I got down to the river I hiked along a piece of the old Rio trail that crosses the mouth of Alamo canyon (Middle canyon of the park) and connects to Capulin canyon (My cabin). Right at the junction (Burro-Rio) there also were a few signs that haven't been inspected in a while and Dale even wanted me to radio in about their status as opposed to waiting to get my report form when I got back. I found all the signs that were supposed to be there, but, thrown behind a bush, I also found an old sign that had been pulled out and replaced, but, for some reason, was not carried out. I don't know what made me decide it would be a good idea to hike the remaining 12km, two of which on a trail that has been abandoned, with a wooden sign and post on my shoulder. It's not like I'm short of fire wood in the cabin. It did turn out for the best (well, kinda), when I had to cross lower Alamo, right where it connects to the Rio Grande, where the vegetation was taller than the top of my pack, because that old sign came in real handy as a machete, though a little dull. I guess I made enough of a racket because I only met one rattle snake in the weeds and it gave me a very generous warning of about 8 feet before I stepped on it. Everything else had more than enough time to get out of my way.
By the time I got to the cabin I was pretty beat, but I was not going to give up the pleasure of chopping that heavy sign up setting fire to it. I think I earned that heat after carrying it for so long.
The next day I woke up with a bit of a bruised shoulder (Only slightly inflicted by the signpost I had carried the day before, and mostly being combined result of a wishful imagination and some laziness) so I conveniently decided to take it easy. I hiked a short loop around the cabin in the morning, and spent the afternoon cutting firewood and catching up on my homework. Got a whole assignment done. During my short hike in the morning, I did meet my first Tarantula. Yes, yes, that big spider we all remember from "Home Alone", only the ones in nature, that were not grown in an aquarium and fed frozen baby mice are not as fat and big. I met 5 in total during this past week. This, so I have been told, is the Tarantula migrating season. They all crawl out of their holes (they do not have webs) and travel on the mesas to their mating/breeding areas. They are docile curious animals. This one didn't bite the walking stick surprised it, but kept slapping it with it's front legs.

Funny creatures...
The only down side of that day was that when I finished cooking and eating my very nutritious dinner of beans, potatoes and hot dogs, and attempted to begin the unavoidable dish washing- I discovered my sink was clogged. Mind you, there is no running water, but the sink does come in handy with washing dishes. Nothing I did seemed to work and I did not have a pipe wrench, so for the remainder of the week, the dishes were done outside in a tub. Not a problem in the evening, but a little chilly in the morning. Under any circumstances, this was a bit of a revival of my childhood memories of the annual camping trip in HORSHAT TAL. The picture is courtesy of Bree, that came out to the cabin the next day for her last two day days in the park. She hadn't had a chance to see Painted Cave (see post August 31 "My cabin") during the whole time she had been here, and really wanted to get some good pictures of it.
After taking it easy, and playing plumber for a day, I went out on a longer loop the next day. The sign at Turkey springs needed to be replaced and the last time I tried to explore the ruins of San Miguel pueblo a storm scared me off the mesa. Plus, dale had told me about an old Coral down stream from the spring and I couldn't find it the last time. This time I was heading out there with a more specific description of the spot. On my hike out I had my fourth bear encounter since I've been here. As I was walking along I heard a CRACK and saw a bear scamper away from the broken branch of a dead tree. When it stopped and looked at me, it had the expression of a five year old at the scene of a broken vase- "It wasn't me"... Didn't stick around for a mug shot, unfortunately. After I replaced the sign at the spring I went off trail and down the creek. I had taken this route before so I was a little smarter this time about where to follow the bear trails along the creek, and where to stay above them, and it took me quite less time to make it to the funky rock formation I remembered from my last time, from which I was supposed to look for the old coral. It was right where Dale said it would be. Not anything impressive, just a fenced off plot. But to find it in the middle of the wilderness was pretty cool. And it was also obvious to me why I couldn't find it the last time. It is just a bunch of logs tied together between the trees, so unless you stumble upon it- there is no way you could find it.
As I was standing around a taking pictures I found something else that was hiding in the woods.
A food sack was hanging from a tree- to prevent the bears from getting to it. I followed the cord down and found the tent it belonged to. The guy that was napping in the tent was very surprised to see anyone, let alone the backcountry ranger. He was, after all, camping in one of the more remote areas of the park. He was fasting, he said, been at it for two days and planning on another two. Part of a spiritual journey and cleansing of the soul. In search for his inner child- his exact words. "You'd be more likely to find your inner child if you ate some candy", I thought, but since he did have a backcountry permit, I kept my thoughts to myself. I asked if he was drinking and he said he was only planing on going one day without drinking- the next day. "I should be hiking out after a good meal the day after tomorrow, I'll be alright, Don't worry". Those sounded like famous last words, especially considering the length of the hike he was planning after a five day fast, but there really wasn't much I could do.
From there I continued up to the mesa, and finally got to see the ruins of San Miguel. what can i say, they are ruins. I can check that off my list. The interesting bit happened after I left the ruins heading back east towards the canyon and my cabin. About 2 kilometers east of the main ruin area, I came across a small arc site, maybe 20 ft across, probably an old 2 room farm house. At the side of it I could see that someone, or something had been digging. Building stones had been pulled out of the 2 ft hole, so whatever it was- it was bigger than a Coyote. I took pictures and a GPS location, and radioed it in, with flashes of "Indiana Jones and the raiders of the lost arc" running through my head. When, at the end of this trip, I showed the pictures to the park archaeologist, he told me it was probably a badger digging for rodents, but for those three days I walked around with fantasies of an archaeological mystery.
That night I had Bree to keep me company and to help me vary the menu a little.
In the morning I decided to go out and clear a couple of logs that were blocking the trail I had hiked two days earlier. They were pretty big logs, and I would not have attempted tackling them if they weren't in a place where walking around them was a bit dangerous. So I wrapped as much of my pack as I could around the cross cut saw, and with a very awkward pack I headed up to the area of Stone Lions.
As I was hiking up the trail, mainly trying not to get the long saw that was sticking out of the top of my pack caught up in any branches, I met a group of 6 kids and a father from one of the pueblos in the area. They were on a 2 day trip through the park. The man was showing the kids some of the lands and sites were their ancestors had lived in. They were learning prayers along the way and giving thanks to the spirits for a good years. They were on their way to stone lions to leave an offering. We talked for a while, since I was headed in the same direction. The man told me he was a farmer, and when I asked him what he grew he suddenly stopped and asked the kids- "Who's got the melon?". Then he handed me a small melon and said "Here, this was for stone lions, but you take care of this area for us, so you should have it". My polite refusal went unnoticed so when I left them and headed on towards my fallen logs, I was carrying in my hands one of the best smelling melons I have ever seen. That was going to make a good desert after dinner.
Took me about an hour to clear the three trees that were blocking the trail. Amazing what you can do with a good saw, a sharp axe and a couple of plastic wedges.
When I came back down towards stone lions, another group of hikers were getting ready to have their lunch their, and the kids had left their backpacks there and headed to another site close by. When they came back, and the kids all headed to grab their packs, the man pointed at the lions and told them off in their language. The kids all bowed their head in shame and, though they were clearly embarrassed to do it in front of me and the other hikers, went and stood in a circle around the lions and said a short prayer. I could also see the offerings they had left there.
Bree and I hiked out together the next morning. She hadn't hiked Mid Alamo (the steepest of the canyon crossings) before, and wanted to be able to mark that as done. We took our time doing it and the challenge was beat.
I'm heading out tomorrow. I have to admit, this is going to be the first time I ever hike with a plunger, but I'd like to see the bear that will dare mess with me. Gumaz is going to join me on Friday and I'm going to help him take readings from erosion bridges. I have no idea what that means. I'll be smarter next week, I guess.

Wet feet and wood stoves

This week started with a revelation. I got up pretty early in the morning, grabbed my backpack, and went to the office to wait for Dale to pick me up. I was going to join him for the morning hunting patrol (hence the early wake up call) and then head out to the cabin from one of the trail-heads on the other side of the park. While I was waiting I even had a chance to call a friend in Israel- so the morning really started pretty well. We drove around for about an hour or so, looking for trucks parked in places that would indicate that the owners were hunting on park land. Also got out and walked around for a bit in an area that has had a few poaching cases in the past. After that, Dale drove me up to the Alamo Springs TH (Trail Head) to start my hike. I think I mentioned before that Dale is really fun to ride with. He has been in the park for the past 17 years and is full of stories. There is a lot to learn from the guy. I also happen to like his taste in music. He has his Sat radio tuned to 60's-70's music all the time, so in other words- he would fit right in with the Mike's Place crowd. I've told you about him before- but as he parked the car and we both got out to admire the beautiful clear morning- we both realized I didn't have any pictures of him.
Had to use the hood of the truck as a tripod and put it on timer, but I finally have attached an image to my imaginary ranger-friend.
Alamo springs TH is one of the less used trail heads of the park. the main reason for that is that in order to get to it you need to drive on a very bad dirt road for about 40 minutes, through national forest, and that dirt road is not always open. Little to no people would hike all that just to start their hike in the park. As a result, it's very easy to loose the trail and especially in the early morning hours- when I set out, you end up whacking your way through the brush and getting soaked from the wet branches and leafs- after the night fogs. Dale sent me out this week with a specific task. Keeping record of all the signs in the back country. Writing down their condition and taking pictures of them. Some of the signs need to be replaced because they point to trails that are not open any more, and some of the signs get damaged from the weather or the wild animals. For some reason, the bears really like to claw the new signs- something about the smell of the treated wood, and let me tell you- no sign will stand that for long.

As I hit the main trail I was supposed to take, the one that is more well maintained, I really enjoyed the rays of the morning sun warming me up and drying up my pants that got wet coming down Alamo Springs. The sun didn't stay out for long, though. After about 5 minutes, I saw the clouds coming in from behind me. Thick heavy grey clouds rolling down from the Jemez mountains. I had just enough warning to pull out my poncho and the rain cover for my backpack, and to bury my camera deep inside the pack. Then the hail came- and I still had a good hour and a half to two hours of a hike. I wasn't sure which of us- Dale or me, got it worse. I had to hike in the rain and was getting undeniably wet. He had to drive back, uphill, into the center of the storm, on a dirt road that got very slippery in the rain, with a serious cliff on one side...
I'm very happy with my poncho, because when I finally made it to the cabin, I was only wet from the hips down. My shoes and socks were soaked and my leather hat was dripping. My fingers were a little cold- but that's about it. It was time to put the wood stove to the test. Though I got to the cabin before noon I went no-where that day. For one, I didn't have shoes to walk anywhere in- they were drying up in front of the stove, and secondly- I was hiking with a pretty heavy pack and pushing my way pretty quickly to get out of the rain. I was pooped.

Did some reading, cooked some dinner, and dried out.
Woke up the next morning with the flames dying in the stove and dry shoes waiting in front of it, and dry socks hanging over it. Quite a soothing pictures. All it needed was a kettle warming up on it. Should have taken a picture of that- but my camera was in the other room, and the concrete floor was too cold to attempt in bare feet. After breakfast (that was indeed cooked over the wood stove) I headed out to the south end of the park with a hand drill and two screws. On one of my last trips out, I discovered the sign down there had not been mounted on a post, but was just leaning on a pile of rocks. So the next time out I hiked out with the post and stuck it in the ground. Only problem then was that I discovered there were no holes in the sign to put the screws through. So this time I intended to finish the job with the hand drill. Some gut feeling told me that nothing is that simple, so I also hike out with some wire and pliers. Knowing how wet the grass would be after yesterdays storm, I wrapped my legs, from the knee down, in garbage bags reinforced by duck tape. After an 8 Kilometer hike I got to the sign and discovered two things. One- though the garbage bags had, by now, slipped down and were no longer covering my shins, but were wrapped around my ankles- they did help keep my feet relatively dry, and two- I was right to hike out with a backup plan because the holes in the pole were too small for the screws I had. If no bears hang out in the southern part of the park (they usually keep to the greener areas), sign might stand a chance.

From there I decided not to go back on one of the trails which i have hiked before. Instead I headed back north along Hondo canyon. I've crossed Hondo before and came up along an Indian trail- that's when I met Gumaz on the mesa. This time I was going to hike the whole length of Hondo canyon. I guess I hit it just at the right season. The first few miles of the canyon have a wide sandy, dry, creek bed. I the summer, I'm sure hiking along that would have meant sinking in the sand the whole way, but after a few rains the sandy bottom was packed down and it was like trekking on a highway. Another amazing thing about Hondo were the crazy rock formations I found about a mile up from the mouth of the canyon.

It was a long hike, in mileage, but those soft comfortable first few miles, really made it fun.
I also had a chance to record quite a few signs that day.
On my second day I stuck around Capulin canyon- where the cabin is. The park boundary crosses Capulin up canyon from the cabin, and the signs in that part needed to be checked on. I also wanted to do some clearing on the trail that comes down to the cabin from the Dome TH- the shortest way in to my cabin. So I started the day hiking out with a new sign for the boundary and after lunch took the big cross cut saw and an axe and went up to the big log that blocks the trail where the rattle snake had surprised me on my last hike to the cabin. Just in case, I also took the snake hook with me, but he wasn't there. That saw can be used by one or two people, and I've only used it, up until now, for cutting firewood for the cabin. I never tried any large trunks. It took me a lot less time than i had expected. Within 20 minutes I cut it twice and got it out of the way. Just imagine what two real lumber jacks, that know what they are doing, can do with that thing. I cleared 3 more trees off of that trail and called it for the day. I was going to use that trail the next day- so I was expecting instant gratification. I spent the rest of the day replenishing my supply of firewood, and taking a cold shower outside. These showers tend to be really short, as you can imagine.
I woke up the next morning with the sound of rain on my roof. I stalled the whole getting out of bed and making breakfast process enough to convince the clouds to go find somewhere else to play, so by the time I headed out, it wasn't raining anymore, and the sky was pretty clear. Like i had planned, I was headed up the trail that i had cleared the day before, towards the west boundary and I place called Turkey springs. It's the only steady source of water in the park outside of the three main canyons. again, the mission at hand was recording the condition of the signs at the boundary. After I was done with that I headed down along the creek that comes out of Turkey springs. There is no trail there, but as I made my way down I realized that I was, in fact, following the foot steps of others. Well, it's more like following paw-steps. Apparently the bears walk along that creek a lot. They left quite a lot of evidence behind. During this season the bears like to feed on cactus fruit. I guess it doesn't entirely agree with their system, because that's what it looks like when it comes out. The other side of the bear, that is.
Following bear trails is really great. The trail is very wide, and they are pretty lazy, so they keep all the climbs really gradual. Only problem is they walk on all fours, so here and there the trail just goes under branches that are too high to climb over, and too low to easily go under when you are carrying a loaded backpack. I was headed towards San Miguel pueblo- one of the three largest ruins in the park. It's off the maps and not easily accessible from any of the trails. I was going to follow the creek until I got under the meas where the ruin is on and then find a way up the steep slope. On my way along I stopped for lunch on this funky boulder that I found just sticking out on the side of the creek. From there it was just a matter of climbing up the side of the canyon and on top of the mesa. The climb was harder than i had planned. At the top of the slope it turns into a cliff, about 3 meters high. I wasn't going to play rock climber, so it took me about 15 minutes before I found a way up. Then I started looking for the ruins amongst the junipers. I only found one when suddenly i heard Dale's voice on the radio calling one of the vegetation monitoring crews that were working one of the mesas north of me. "Veg crew 1, this is LE3. Are you still on that mesa? I'm above upper Frijolis canyon. There is a storm coming down your way. It looks pretty serious, and I can see lightning. You better get down to lower ground". I turned around, and sure enough, those clouds that had gone to play somewhere else in the morning... well they decided to claim back my back yard as their playground, and they weren't happy I fooled them earlier that day. They brought along some lightning and were headed my way quickly. I decided I better take Dale's advice, even though he wasn't talking to me, and get off the mesa. Again, poncho came out, camera went in, and my pack was covered. As the first drops started falling I realized that while no one ever died from getting wet feet, getting hit by lightning while hiking the top of a meas wasn't a great idea, and falling off a cliff while trying to get off that meas wasn't a great idea either. About the same time Dale decided to check on me and when I gave him the general picture, the only advice he could produce was "...be careful..." I made it down in one piece but it was another hour and half back to the cabin through wet grass and on-and-off rain, so, as could be expected, my feet were wet again, but when I got to the cabin and started the fire I realized that one of hiking boots had a seam tare and the side of it was pretty open. Again I was housebound until my boots dried out and I used the rest of the day going through some of the first aid equipment in the cabin and checking the Search and Rescue kits. The oxygen tank gauge showed it was empty, so when I called in to say good night I said i would hike out with it so it could be filled. I also packed a couple of first aid kits that were missing a lot of items.
The next morning I got Wendy to pick me up at the Dome (Shortest way out). Right before I stuff the oxygen tank in my pack I decided to check it again, and this time i opened the valve. Yeah, I made a boob out of myself. The tank was fine. I just checked it wrong. At least I found out before I hiked out with it and proudly handed it over to the rangers. I had set a time with Wendy- 11:00 am, and between packing up, checking the oxygen tank, and duck-taping my torn shoe, it was getting pretty late. So when, at 9:20 I headed out, I was in quite a hurry. Though the Dome trail is the shortest way out- it does have one very obvious disadvantage- It's one long steep climb, the whole way. I was a panting hurt'n dog (that's a Dale phrase- I kind'a like it), but think I broke a record coming up. I got up in an hour and 20 minutes, which even left me twenty minutes to climb Boundary peek. I've been wanting to climb that one ever since I saw it. It's only about 15 minutes up from the trail, but you feel like you're at the top of world. The whole park is down at your feet. The peek itself is a pile of boulders that look like they were left there after god had finished some construction project. I was really hoping Wendy would be early and I could call her on the radio and take a picture of me on the top- but I guess you can't have everything.
In fact she was even a little late, so I had time to eat a snack and doze away under the sun in the cool breeze.
When I got back to HQ I handed Dale my sign report and preceded to take care of the shoes. In fact, a good portion of my two days off has been spent on trying to get them fixed. Unfortunately, though the shoes are made by an Italian company that has a very good reputation in Israel, no one here seems to have heard of them, and their website was offline and I couldn't find any store in the area that services them- so my life time warranty was pretty worthless. New shoes, in my current financial situation are out of the question too. Finally Dale recommended a boot repair shop in Santa Fe. I had to drive there on Tuesday and beg that they would do it as quickly as possible. Drove out there again today to pick them up, and also picked up a bottle of HUBERD'S SHOE OIL that they recommended. Hopefully that will reduce the number of wet feet incidents. And all at a total cost of a mere 21$. I'm headed out again tomorrow morning, so we will find out how good a job they did. Wish me luck.

A week in the front country

That's it, This week is over. It's back to my cabin tomorrow, for another five days of solitude.

There is a large archaeological site that's out there, off trail and off the maps, that I've been told about and I really want to visit it. It's called San Miguel ruin and I will be taking pictures, if I can find it.

This past week was a very slow and calm week. I came back from the backcountry on Monday, had a couple of days off on Tuesday and Wednesday, and even had the opportunity to call the family on the holiday. Then I had Thursday and Friday for day hikes and went to a very well-done wilderness first aid class on Saturday and Sunday. Went on a day hike again on Monday, and a couple more days off which end today. I was also able to squish in some studying- So I might learn some Micro economics after all.

That was the quick sum of things.

Thursday started with Dale and I going on hunting patrol in the morning. It's still bow season out here, and you have to make sure that the hunting is just going on in the forest, and that no one is doing any hunting in the park. Got to tell you- Some of the characters that partake in the sport of Bow hunting are... interesting. And some of them hunt bear too (we are only in Elk and Deer season right now). I mean, you need to be pretty ballsy to hit a bear with an arrow- if you miss the heart and the bear survives- that's one very pissed off animal with teeth and claws running at you, and your weapon of choice is not a fast loading weapon- to say the least. Come to think of it- having an injured bull-elk running towards you might not be that much fun either. Nevertheless, graduation flats (the name of the picnic area/camp ground where most of the hunters park their campers) has been filling up every weekend for the past three weeks. I did get to see my first full size elk that day.

Around 9:00 am, Brian went on shift (We started at 6:00- those hunters get an ungodly early start- I suppose they listened when their mother told them that the early bird catches the worm), and took over, so we went over to HQ and picked up a sign that needed to be mounted at a trail intersection about 16 miles up canyon from the main park area. Apache springs is one of the only trails I have yet to hike and Dale and I took it into the canyon carrying a post-hole digger and sign post with two signs mounted on it- pointing at all four directions. Dale was nice enough to grab the uncomfortable load of the sign. It's about 2.5 miles each way and let me tell you- this is probably one of the worst designed trails in the park- steep descent with not enough switchbacks. However, since the trail gets very little use- there is little motivation to get a trail crew in to fix it up. Upper Frijoles canyon, I have to tell you, is quite breath taking.
After we got done we headed back to HQ. Dale, and the rest of the law enforcement division had a very long meeting to attend, and I decided to finish the day with a short hike down canyon, on the falls trail, which is probably the most used trail in the park (not counting the paved loop that goes through the main ruin area). This trail got seriously damaged during the flood we had three weeks ago. Bridges were washed away and the creek split and washed over the trail in a few places so the lower you drop as you go- the closer you get to where Frijoles creek runs into the Rio Grande, the harder it is to follow the trail. You can't really get lost- you are hiking up and down a pretty narrow canyon. When I got to the bottom I saw a small white balloon in the sky hovering over what seemed to me like the southern boundary of the park. I radioed it in and finished my hike.

In the evening some of us got together to play Ultimate Frisbee in White Rock, and we could still see the Balloon hover over the park.

The next day I was told by one of the visitor center rangers that at first, when she heard my report over the radio, she thought I was seeing a weather balloon- they sometimes drift over the park, but later that day she was watching the news and they said that the strange balloon was actually a NASA solar balloon 200 feet in diameter, hovering in an altitude of 23 miles. Pretty cool, ha- Not only do I have the instincts of a cat, but also the eyes of a hawk (and a lot of times- the brains of a squirrel, or so I've been told).

On Friday I went on one of the most beautiful hikes you could take- in my opinion. Brian drove me outside of the park to Vales Caldera natural preserve. The border between the park and the Caldera is a ridge of peaks called Rabbit Ridge. Both the Caldera and the park have trails that climb that ridge, and there are two very impressive peaks that these trails climb to- Rabbit ridge peak, and Scooter peak. Brian dropped me off at Coyote Call- a trail head on the caldera side, and I hiked up that trail to the top of Rabbit ridge. From there, off trail, just along the saddle between the two peaks, I hiked to scooter peak and from there I dropped into the park. It was a clear chili morning when I started up the old logging trail that climbs from Coyote Call. The road is well preserved so you have a very wide trail that climbs at a steep but constant grade almost all the way to the top. I was wearing a short T-shirt and was playing the fine line between sunny-warm and shady-chili as the sun rose through the trees. The last half mile of the climb breaks off from the logging road, so you're winding between trees and boulders. At the top the view opens up towards the caldera, when you reach a boulder filed- the remnant of an old avalanche.

I got to see some more elk up there, but they were quick to get away from me.
From there, my hike across the saddle to Scooter peak was off trail and along the boundary between the park and the caldera, so I was just walking in the woods. It's a pretty steep drop and climb, but it was a nice morning and I took my time. Had an early lunch at the top of Scooter- two of my (now famous) home made granola bars.
I dropped down the slope of Scooter into the park. The forest on that side of the mountain was a lot more dense, with fallen trees and bushes all over the place. But making my way through it was really beautiful, plus here and there I picked up stretches of an old forgotten logging trail that helped me get down. When I got down to the bottom I radioed in for a pick up and ended up waiting for almost an hour. By the time Virginia from fee-collection showed up (Law Enforcement folks were all busy- that's why it took so long), I was taking a nap in the sun at Graduation Flats, right next to a pile of Bud light cans left over by the great white hunters.

On Saturday and Sunday Shanon, Bree, Gumaz, Caroline and I drove down to Tesuque (a pueblo about 40 minutes away from the park, on the way to Santa Fe) for the Wilderness First Aid class. It was being given in the Santa Fe Mountain Center.
http://www.sf-mc.com/index.html

Their counselors take groups out on trips and they needed the class for them. Since getting two instructors for two days is quite expensive, they invited other agencies around the area to send their people to the class- and that's how 5 people from the park got in on it. There were about 10 folks from the mountain center and we were 32 altogether.
This was probably one of the best first aid classes I've ever taken. They had simulations going all the time- with good case stories for the patients and even make-up and props. Each time, two thirds of the groups coupled up and got take care of seemingly real patients- with aches, pains, complaints and bruises. Very well done. Another good thing about this class was that the way of thinking about the situation was different than what I'm used to. In Israel, in all the first aid classes I've taken up until now, it was always- "patch it up and go". Find what's going to kill your patient now, deal with it to the best of your ability and get him to an ambulance. This works under the logic that you are never more than an hour away from an ambulance (or a helicopter rescue)- true for Israel. In this class, the thought was- what if you are in the back country and it's three days hiking to the nearest road? With no cell phone reception... Imagine you have to spend three days with this person until your other friend, that went to get help, is able to reach someone. How do you keep him warm? How do you prevent his wounds from getting infected? How do you change dressing?
I learned a lot of clever tips and practiced all kinds of stuff. For a two day course- It was awesome.

On Sunday night, Gumaz had a gathering at his house. We all made something and came over. I got to meet a whole bunch of people from the fire crews for the first time. They've all been "Working the fires" in Montana for the past couple of months, and only came back this past week. Maybe now I'll start seeing some people in my little neighborhood down in the canyon. Well, that is, on my days off.
My last hike for the week was on Monday. There is a piece of the park that is detached from the main park. It's a small area called Tsankawi- about 20 minutes drive from the entrance to the park, on the other side of White Rock. It is a mesa with more ruins on it. There is an automated payment station at the entrance, and a ranger opens it up every morning. The plan was not for me to hike the trail, but to go around along the boundary fence. It was a pretty cloudy morning when I headed out to find me a ride. I knew that they were doing some thinning work around Tsankawi and I walked into John Mac's office (Head of the resource division) to see if anyone was headed out there. "Why don't you just grab a car from the car pool?" he asked me. "Because I didn't know I could..." was my hesitant answer. With a swift "Come with me!" John took away any doubt about that matter, and led me to where all the keys were hanging. "Some of these are pretty old vehicles, and people don't like using them, but if you don't mind driving stick-shift, and just need to get to Tsankawi and back, you would be doing me a great favor if you took one of them, since we really ought to get them started and running every once in a while". And that's how I found myself driving a yellow 1985 Suburban, with 5 gears in total- "Reverse", "Low" and 1-3. Not a bad ride at all.
Once I got there I saw that the automatic payment station wasn't opened yet, so I radioed Wendy and asked if she wanted me to do it. She was glad to take me up on that, since it would have saved her the trip, but failed to mention that there was an alarm system. She ended up having to drop whatever it was she was doing and drive down to Tsankawi- to turn off the alarm I triggered. so much for saving her the trip.
My hike went pretty well. For the first two thirds of the way I followed a couple of narrow Mesas and then turned east and crossed a small valley. Then I climbed the ridge on the other side, and just as I was about to drop down towards the road on the eastern boundary and follow it north- for the last third of the way, the clouds got cloudier and it started raining. Then it started raining harder,

And then it started hailing. I was pretty happy to be off the mesa top, since there was quite a bit of lightning going on. Except for the general discomfort of walking in heavy rain I was doing alright. I had my poncho and was only worried about my camera getting wet.

Towards the end of my hike I got to Dutches castle- and the rain stopped for just enough time for me to take a couple of pictures. The art of native pottery was almost gone by the middle of the early 1900's. Dutch's Castle was built by a woman by the name of Madame Vera von Blumenthal as a school for pottery for the pueblos, the name was given after she was already gone.

http://www.nps.gov/band/photosmultimedia/tt-vy-stop-9.htm

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of the storm, and I was singing in the rain for the rest of my hike.

One of those days

Hello again

Let's see... I'm sitting in the public library waiting for a very large file I'm trying to upload. It's the Video of my Cabin. I hope the librarian doesn't kick me off before I have a chance to finish. I'm on the second day of my two days off.

You see, Dale has changed my days off from Thurs-Fri to Tues-Wed. I also have a two day wilderness first aid class on Saturday. So I'm not going to be out in the cabin this week, and Dale and I are going to do some sign work on the trails around park HQ.

This last trip out to the cabin was only 3 days long, and yet I did discover a few new things.
I found interesting phone line fittings on some trees around my cabin. Back in the day, when the forest service had watch towers around here, they ran phone lines between them. The towns that grew here tapped on to those lines. Why put in phone line poles if you have trees? The copper lines are all gone, obviously, but the ceramic rings are still nailed to the trees.
A Pretty weired thing to find in the middle of a forest, a bit like the street light in Narnia.

I've had yet two more encounters with rattle snakes and they were both very close.
The first one was on my way in. Brian drove me out to the Dome road (on the other side of the park). The hike from the Dome to the cabin is only about 4 miles and downhill. It's also a beautiful view as you are coming down into Capulin Canyon (where the cabin is). Brian drove me because I was carrying a pretty heavy back pack- and hiking 10 miles, across two major canyons and a few minor ones, with the Jumbo jar of peanut butter, the Jumbo jar of Jelly (strawberry) and the Maxi-Jumbo bag (it's a small sack really) of beans, didn't seem like a lot of fun to either of us. Only problem with the Dome trail is that that whole area was hit by a major fire back in '96 and there are a lot of dead trees fallen across the trail, so you find yourself going over a quite a few downed logs. Doing that with a full pack ain't fun either. Just as I was going over the last downed log before the creek- we're talking a shout away from the cabin, just when I had both feet on the ground on the one side of it, but still some of my balance on the other end of it, that's when the fat brown rattler that was resting in the shade of the log decided to let me know it was there... I mean, it could have done it before I went over the log (I could have checked too)- As before, I promise- I would have moved! This one was really close and there was no where to jump- I got caught between the log and a big boulder, but this fat one just gave me another little notice and crawled away. I swallowed my heart back down to it's place with only little difficulty.

The second rattle snake friend I made was hiding in a deep hoof-print in the sand on the trail south of my cabin. I was headed down canyon with a heavy sign post on my shoulder and a Pulaski (funny name for a tool, isn't it?) in my bag. One of the signs in the southern part of the park was just leaning on a pile of rocks and needed a sign post. So that's where I was headed. We also had a group of the park's biology and fire-effects folks camping out on one of the mesas all week. They are collecting data and stuff... They had a packer ride in every other day to supply them with water (from my creek) and food. So, I was walking along the trail, following the tracks of the packer and his horses when suddenly I look down and see a medium size, grey rattle snake all curled up in one of the deeper hoof prints left in the sand. It had rained earlier that morning and I think it was just enjoying the shelter and possibly the heat that the hoof had left behind. This one didn't even bother moving or rattling when I jumped. It just stayed there, gave an indifferent look, and went on tasting the air with it's tongue.

My conclusion from my three encounters with these animals (and from talking to Dale) is that they will get out of your way if you give them as much as half a chance. They don't always rattle- if they think they can stay hidden by keeping quiet, and the only quick movement they'll make is biting. You (the average hiker) are too big too be food- which makes you a waste of venom, plus a pissed off big animal (which you will surely become once bitten) is a lot more likely to try something stupid like stomping. Snakes don't like stomping. If you just stay still and let them be- they will crawl away. Another interesting thing, that I didn't know, was that they are deaf. They can feel the vibrations you make on the ground when walking- but they can't hear you.
Only after I finished digging, and put up the post for the sign did I notice that no-one bothered to drill holes in the wooden sign- so I had no way to put it up. So now, instead of the sign leaning on a pile of rocks, it's leaning on a post. Quite an improvement- don't you think?

From there I went on to look for the biology people up on the mesa. I knew, generally, where their camp was supposed to be, and where they were working so I headed towards the general direction. Had to cross a canyon over to the next mesa, so I was expecting a bone-breaking roll down the rockslide/cliff all the way to the bottom of the canyon, and a climb that would kick my little behind up the other side- since all of this was off trail. To my (pleasant) surprise, right before I started rolling down the cliff I spotted an old Indian trail that went up the other side. That saved me the ass-kicking. These old Indian trails can be found all around the park. They, usually, run along the length of the mesas and connect different archaeological sites. They also drop down from the mesas sometimes to where the ancient residents of this region got their water and maybe hunted some of their food. They are no 4 lane highway, they are not even wide enough to ride a horse on, but they will make climbing out of a canyon, and more importantly dropping down into one- a hell of a lot easier, and without rocks rolling from under your feet.
When I got to the top of the mesa I started heading north- again, based on a general perception as to the whereabouts of the survey team, and on the direction the narrow mesa climbed. As far as the landscape goes- it should not have been too hard to spot them- they were working on the top of a pretty flat mesa, if only the junipers weren't exactly the height of your eyes. These trees aren't tall enough for you to get under and enjoy the shade, but they are exactly the right height to block your view. Oh, and they do get dense enough sometimes to force you to go around a whole bunch of them. After about 20 minutes of walking without seeing much I suddenly heard someone go "YO!" and there were Gumaz and Rebeka sitting and having lunch. I sat down and joined them (pulled out my two homemade granola bars) and we had a nice rest and conversation. After about half an hour they had to go back to work and that's when I got to see, for the first time, what these people did. Gumaz is an SCA (intern) like me, and back when I was applying for positions I had also applied for a few position like his in other parks. THANK GOD I DID NOT GET THOSE! The research they are working on has been going on for the past 15 years now. What they basically do is record each and every plant and all the different types of rock and soil along these 300 meter lines they have in different locations in the park. The resolution is one CM. They have two pegs stuck in the ground (so they always return to the same exact line on the ground) and they stretch a length of measuring tape between them. Then they walk along (crouch actually) and write down each plant the tape goes over- where it's foliage starts, on the tape, and where it ends. Talk about your tedious work. You can't argue with the amount of knowledge that's been collected like that over 15 years, but still- I take my hat off for Gumaz. I would go BANNANAS.
The other two members of the team- Kay and Caroline, were back at their camp so I headed over there on my way home. That was easier to spot since 4 yellow tents tend to stick out in the grey-green background. Occasionally I make an ass out of myself- and this was one of those days. When I got to their camp Kay got out of her tent and we started talking. I told her i had just come from visiting Gumaz and Rebeka and she said something along the lines of "That's not a bad hike, they are on the next mesa over", to which I answered- "No they are not. They are down south on this one". What followed was a 4 minute (polite) argument that really didn't go anywhere. Let me just tell you that
A) She was right (of course)

B) It didn't occur to me, even for a second, to stop and think- they have been working on this survey for 15 years now, they use GPS to verify their location and she's been hiking this park for a little longer than me.
We parted as friends- but only because both of us just dropped the subject. I should try a catch her today and apologize.

It was getting late and I headed home, but I had room for one more adventure, and I guess it was time for me to spook a bear.

When I say I spooked a bear I mean that I was just as spooked as it was, only it was quicker than me in running away- so that makes me, kinda' by default, the last man standing.
As I was heading home I saw a bunch of ravens on a tree and decided to go check it out. It was obvious to me that they weren't having a social event, but that something was either dead or dying, and the birds were waiting for their turn to feast. I figured if they could smell it- it wasn't too fresh, so whatever killed it had gone away, and I'd be dealing with coyotes, at the most. Well, just in case, I took my walking stick out. As I was approaching the area I suddenly heard something running in my direction. Something big enough to make stomping noises. Cats can run very quietly- so that really didn't leave too many options as to what animal was approaching. The area was quite dense with Juniper so I couldn't see it. I tried to move to get a better view and suddenly it stopped. I just stood there for about 2 minutes, feeling pretty dumb, and I'm sure it did the same. After those very long 2 minutes I started walking away quietly. Off to my right I could see what all the fuss was about. Hidden in the dense underbrush under a Pinion-Pine was the, pretty old, carcass of a deer. Bears usually can't get full grown bucks, and they sure as hell don't hide them. Apparently this bear got a whiff of the fragrant stash of a mountain lion, and was enjoying his stolen meal when I decided to poke my nose in it's business.
Which was I, more lucky or more stupid?
Between the snake, the sign with no holes, being a know-it-all, and spooking smokey the bear- I think I was just having one of those days

Two Homes

Hey Everyone!

This is going to be a very short post- Since I have limited time on the library computer.

The computers in the park are government computers, and as such they are blocked from doing all kinds of things in order to protect national security. The public library, however, is all open for dangerous web sites like Facebook, Youtube and other Homeland security threats as such. The truth of the matter is that the fact that the park computers are blocked to all of those sites actually protects the public- not from terrorists, but rather from government employees spending government time, and tax payers money, on their own private online hobbies.

Anyway, it is only here that I can upload this video of my cabin, that has been taking up space on my memory card for quite some time.



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nhd52Xx0Xmk

Thoughts about solitude, hygiene and supplies

Hello again!
I'm back from five days out in my cabin.
Actually I've been back for a day now (I have two days off each week), but the shower I took when I got back, including shaving (my head and ALSO my face), scrubbing my toenails and fingernails and washing behind the ears- took longer than I thought, and I only got to a computer today.
So what have I learned?

I learned that even if you are a rough-tough hairy-chested man (which I am)- your ego doesn't get too bruised while using a walking stick, especially if you are carrying a full pack (30kg) with 5 days worth of supplies, and there is nobody to see you do it. That third leg comes in very handy when you are going up, but even more when you go down steep slopes. Those fold up telescopic canes are highly recommended, and they come in any range of color to match your "lone wolf" eyes. It's the new fashionable thing to do- "accessorise".
I also learned, to my surprise, that hikers, and hiking families are not only dropping in numbers (which I have now suspected for quite some time), but that they are actually an endangered species. I spent all of labor day weekend out in the backcountry (Saturday through Tuesday), and I met a total of five people during this entire time, one of which was Joel, one of the other SCAs* in the park who came out to spend a night in the cabin. Two were a couple of girls (college age, maybe) out on a day hike, and in a hurry to get back to grandma's house for 4 o'clock cocktails, and only two were true backpackers- and they didn't have permits to camp in the park so I had to tell them they would need to camp out on forest land (no permit required there). It's not that the park wasn't busy- throughout the whole weekend the silence of the forest around me was constantly interrupted by my radio broadcasting the desperate cries of my fellow park employees at headquarters, the entrance station and the visitor's center going on about the long line at the entrance and the full parking areas and the need to put out the "20 min minimum wait" sign. The lovely retired couple that volunteers at the campground was all ready to come down to the canyon and assist with directing traffic and parking cars, and this whole time I was hiking, off trail, with the stunning view of the Rio Grande on one side and the Jemez mountain range on the other- pretty much the whole park in my sight, thinking- "Where the hell are all these people I keep hearing about?". All these people paid the entrance fee ($12 a car-not cheap) and came in for a walk around the ruins that takes 2 hours if you are really going to take your time about it. I'm sure most went through the museum and watched the short movie. The more adventurous type grabbed a bottle of water and went to either the falls trail (2 hours of the beautiful lower Frijoles creek as it comes down to waterfalls), or ventured up to the canyon rim- a good healthy climb of about half an hour to 40 minutes in each direction to visit the Frijoleto ruin. Only the two girls that I saw went on a full day hike. I mean, obviously not all these people should or would enjoy packing food for a couple of days and walking about 7-10 miles to the backcountry camping areas- but someone? anyone? during the entire weekend- 5 backcountry camping permits were issued.
I don't know why I'm complaining though- more for me, I guess. Dad, you would have loved it.

During my time out in the backcountry, I also had a chance to work on my cabin and install the solar panel for my fridge. This is an interesting example of government spending. The cabin used to have a propane powered fridge. The kind of fridge you find in trailers and RVs. While the motor of the vehicle is running- the fridge works on electricity from the battery, but once you park it, and turn the motor off, you switch to GAS mode so your car battery doesn't drain. The old fridge worked just fine just on gas. Last season, the new park superintendent (the big boss of the park)and her husband went out to the cabin for the weekend and decided the fridge needed to be replaced. It was working fine- or so the people lower on the totem pole have been telling me. So money was given and someone, (who this mysterious someone is, might have some importance- but I definitely am TOO low on the totem pole to get my nose into this one), anyway SOMEONE went out and bought the new model of the same fridge- same make, same size. The fridge was brought out to the cabin and hooked up, and the old one was taken away (where to? that is another mystery that the solution to definitely falls in the realm of freedom of information, but for some reason another mysterious SOMEONE has yet to declassify it). Only problem was that since this appliance was designed for vehicular use, safety regulations have forced minor adjustments into it's design. In case of an accident, an unfortunate combination of circumstances could lead to a very explosive situation. If any of the electrical circuits in the cars were lose and were causing sparks, and at the same time, if the pilot light in the fridge went out- you'd have a gas leak and sparks in very close proximity, plus an RVs gasoline tank not too far. In order to prevent that kind of thing- the fridge now needs a constant electrical current to work. Nothing of any great voltage, just enough to indicate that the car's electrical system is functioning properly. Well, the cabin has NO electricity what so ever. A car battery was then carried out to the cabin and hooked up to the fridge- and it worked! For a while...
Eventually it did drain out- as was expected. Only at this point, the pack horses that were being used to carry all of this stuff out to the backcountry had been sold away as part of park system cut backs and tightening of belts. Propane tanks and essential supplies were now to be flown to the cabin by helicopter once or twice a year. On the next helicopter flight, along with propane, toilet paper, cleaning supplies, new signs for the backcountry camp zones and toothpicks, a new battery and a solar panel were also loaded onto the helicopter.
So, for a couple of days during this past week, after coming back from my daily hikes and rehydrating on "TANG" (unbelievable invention- you can really get addicted to the taste of toxic waste), I've been fiddling with installing the solar panel and getting it to charge the battery that doesn't power the fridge, but allows the propane to flow so it can power the fridge.
Sorry if I got all technical on you this time- this is what has been occupying my mind this week.

To any of you that thought that rattle snakes were called that because they rattle- let me tell you- not all do. especially not the big monster I almost stepped on walking on the dry creek bed of Alamo canyon. This 6 foot friend was just waiting for me, all curled up and ready to leap, with eyes that said "I won't make a sound, I'll just wait here until you step on me so I have moral justification to bite you".
All you people as my witnesses, I swear- I would have moved out of it's way, if only it did what God had intended it to do - and rattled.
I jumped pretty high when I did notice it.
Another thing that I discovered this past week is that creek water is cold and that wash-cloth baths are not fun or refreshing. Hopefully when it gets a little colder, and I have to light the wood stove to heat the cabin, I'll be able to put a pot of water on it to bathe with. But I guess until it gets cold- I'm going to be taking cold showers. Come to think about it, that could also explain why yesterday's shower took so long.

It would seem that people get extremely poetic when they are out on their lonely-own for a while. Evidence to that observation could be found on the walls of my out house. It seems like all Backcountry rangers before me have left their scribblings there and will be forever remembered in the pages of outhouse history. I will need to think carefully about how I would like to be remembered in such an honorable place. It also happens to be that my books from the open university have finally caught up with me (thanks again, Mom and Dad), so my thoughts this coming week will be less occupied with the proper way to be recorded in local New Mexican history, and more with "An introduction to Micro economics".
We will see.


P.S.
I had no relevant pictures this week, so you get to enjoy the flowers.

My Cabin

Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, I went to my cabin, and let me tell you- it is awesome!I went there on Tuesday and only spent one night. I'm going to go out for a whole five day stint tomorrow.

Who would have believed that in the 21st century, when I can sit in front of the computer and write this blog to you all- which will reach anywhere around the world the second I hit "post", pictures included, that in this same reality I can go out and survive for 5 days without electricity and running water?

I have a hand pump outside and I have to carry my water in a bucket to the filter in my kitchen before I can use it.

I have a propane stove and oven- but once it gets cold- I'll probably do all of my cooking on the wood stove- that I need to cut firewood for...

The propane refrigerator is not working yet- I'll have to fiddle with that. But don't you worry- this cabin comes with a complete set of tools and a tool shack. My outhouse

has a great view of the cliffs of the canyon (yeah, I keep the door open. It's one of the perks of being alone in the wilderness), and at night I cook and eat to the light of candles. GOT TO LOVE IT!

I can't wait to go out again.

Down canyon from my cabin is a site called painted cave. It's pretty cool, as you can see.

So this is my new home, and for now- I am really excited about going and spending some time out there.
I took the long way out on Wednesday. Dale picked me up outside of the western boundary of the park (opposite side of HQ). That meant hiking a long trail that is no longer used very often. After you leave the park boundary you still have about 4 miles in National forest land. As I was walking out, dealing with a whole bunch of fallen trees on the trail (The ones in the park I cleared, when I crossed the boundary out to forest land I just started jumping over them), I could see the sky darkening, and a thick layer of black clouds approach. No one likes to get caught in the rain, and I was already late to my rendezvous with Dale (fallen Junipers really put up a fight when approached with an axe), so I started walking really fast. I got to the "pumis mines trail head" quite short of breath- but it was well worth it. Three minutes later the skies opened up and it started pouring. Rain and hale dropped like it was being poured from buckets. Since we were all the way around on the other side of the park and most of the way back was through forest dirt roads- it took about 40 minutes to get back- and it was pouring the entire time. When Dale dropped me off we had another surprise- The creek that runs through the main canyon had over flooded from all the rain and was washing over the small concrete bridges. Apparently a very rare thing. We all ran out to see the flood- which lasted about an hour.

The next morning was supposed to be my day off. At 11am, as I was having a late breakfast, Brian (another law enforcement ranger), and John Mack (head of resource division) came knocking on my door. "We need someone to patrol the main canyon trail to see if they can re-open it to the public, after closing it due to flood. So I packed up and went on a three hour hike, during which I was glad to see that all the small double-log bridges were washed away. It was like nature sneezing away all those man made restraints on it. Like a dog shaking water off from his fur. Some parts of the trail were washed away- but you could still hike it. Anywhere you needed to cross the creek- you could still do it by jumping on a few rocks. I was also surprised to see at least four small bull-snakes just warming up in the sun. I guess the flood washed them out of their normal hiding places. Another species was out of it's element: the fish that I found lying on the trail. The flood brought them there and then settled down and left them high and dry on the high ground. Took photos of all the fallen trees and washed out bridges, along with GPS locations- put them all in a report for the rangers, and went on to enjoy what was left of my day off. In the evening Bree was nice enough to drive me over to the library and the grocery store.

Today, on my second day off, Bree and I headed to the post office in Los Alamos and then went hiking to a hot (luke warm actually) spring. A lovely little spot in the Jemez Mountains- about 40 minutes away from the park. The sky was threatening rain again so there was no-one else on the trail. The spring flows out into a little pool (assisted just a little bit by a man-made dam to deepen it). Had a great time, though the water wasn't really hot. Later today Dale had me over for dinner at his house in White Rock. There was a Zydeco concert in the park and we went over after dinner. Not a bad weekend (Thursday and Friday- but who cares). Tomorrow I head out to my cabin, and besides the beginning of a new month it's also the beginning of hunting season. No hunting is allowed in the parkalthough there will be a lot of hunting going on in the national forest land all around us. I'm definitely going to be wearing my orange vest this week.