2 weeks to daylight savings

Yesterday, Dan and I headed back out for a very nice snowy winter loop we did last month. This time his legs were threatening to put the hurt on mine...


What a superb ride. I love it. The hot pizza burrito and water bottle full of mocha from the Rollinsville store were just icing on the cake.

Today was spent packing, spackling, painting, and otherwise getting ready to move exactly one mile this week. On the plus side, I did manage to part with several wheels, several frames, many pairs of dead cycling shoes, an old computer, and several boxes of assorted other crap that never sees any use. Hopefully this stuff all finds good new homes, except for the dead shoes.

Did I really just run laps?

The running legs are finally starting to come around. Despite still being sore from snowshoeing, I felt better than I have on possibly any run so far, and even after 4 laps around my favorite short foothills loop, I was still feeling springy. The sun shone strongly, warming the air up from 20 to 35 degrees while I was out, the fresh snow was still soft and loose on the trail, my new shoes were feeling especially comfortable, and every time I went over the top, a group of cheery pygmy nuthatches cheeped excitedly. But in an effort to not overdo it, I reluctantly headed home.

Red Deer Lake

This past weekend I threw a bit of gear in an old pack, drove up a little higher, and strapped on the snowshoes for a quick overnighter in the mountains. Nearly a foot of fresh snow was on the ground when I started up the valley, and it continued falling the entire time I was out. I awoke to 8" of additional new snow in the morning, so I was sinking in knee-deep even with the snowshoes! It was a great learning experience, as I've done very little camping in the snow. Perhaps next time I'll take skis instead...

And the rest...

I'll just get it over with and dump out the rest of the photos I set aside to share with the world. These are mostly my typical oh-wow-look-at-that-fantastic-view type of photography.

Day 2. The first sunlight begins to bounce around. Day 1 was a long drive, half of which was in the dark.

Ascending into the heart of the highest part of the Guadalupe Mountains

We had planned on a 2-night trip covering ~35 miles. The park people told us "there might be a bit of snow up high, but it shouldn't be too bad." Well, if knee-deep, untrodden snow atop trails so narrow and unused they're rather challenging to follow when covered by said snow isn't too bad, I guess I should have known to bring gaiters. Oops.

Maggie in the last light of the day. It was slow going, given the deep snow and trail-following challenges, so we didn't get as far as planned. We slept on the one bare spot we could find, with frost appearing on us before dinner was even cooked, and before long, freezing fog moved in. So much for escaping winter for a week.

Day 2. Spillover topping Frijole Ridge

We ended up hiking out after only one night and were rewarded with more freezing fog in Bear Canyon. It was spectacular.

Frosty sotol

Day 3. We headed west of the escarpment to a small field of gypsum dunes. These form as winds transport gypsum evaporite deposits from dried lake beds. Gypsum sand does not get hot in the sun, and it contracts and cracks like clay-rich mud as it dries. Interestingly, there was little evidence that anyone ever visits this part of the park.

You'd never guess it started snowing six hours later...
(Photo by Maggie)

Day 4. We temporarily retreated from the snow and ducked underground to see Carlsbad Cavern. My last caving experience (not that this paved, handrail-lined trail is actually caving) was in a particularly tight, vertical cave in the Sangre de Cristo Mountains that provided a generous dose of unnerving exposure. Carlsbad, on the other hand, has one room that's several acres in area. Wow.

Don't touch!

While underground, the fresh snow all melted and the mercury climbed into the 50s, which felt downright balmy. We quickly decided to do quick 2-nighter in the backcountry above the caves. We got our permit, threw a little gear in the packs, and were on the trail by 3:30.

Then a couple little thunderstorms popped over the hills and cruised past us. They were rather unexpected! We climbed the faint trail up Yucca Canyon for a few hours and slept near the top of the ridge in the shelter of some scrubby oaks. It was a windy night.

Day 5. Little did I realize, this day would be us versus an army of prickly pear, yucca, sotol, cat's claw, agave, and ocotillo. Our pants will never be the same again.

Looking for the next cairn. The trail was essentially non-existent. Fortunately, there were cairns to follow. Sometimes. (Photo by Maggie)

Looking down Slaughter Canyon.

Maggie soaking up the last of the sun's warmth

And then it was night

Day 6. We finished up the hike by lunch time, and back at the car, we cooked up some very tasty cheese and bean dip. We drove back south and explored the canyon below Guadalupe Peak. I'm impressed how high Maggie jumped in this photo!

On our last day, we did a quick 8-mile hike in the morning, traversing the Permian reef in the process and seeing some classic sedimentary geology. Then it was time for the 11-hour drive back north. On the drive back, we realized that we didn't see a single person in either of the parks we visited farther than 1.5 miles from the visitor's centers. What a pleasant surprise that was...

Desert myopia

A continuation of the last post...

(This last one came from Maggie)

Small details

Last week was spent far to the south of Colorado. The goal was to head south of the snowy mountains, but that plan failed and once again, the ground was white. We spent our time hiking, moving at a more gradual speed than I generally do when on wheels. One sure covers a lot less ground, but when the distant scenery is slow to change, the nearer small details provide ample entertainment.