Tent Rocks

What better way to begin a Friday morning than to dance Magic with Rebekah Hartman?  Rebekah was in Santa Fe to sub classes at StudioNia, and we had connected and committed to a dance and a hike while chatting at Ten Thousand Waves a few days earlier.  Rebekah is a delightful dance teacher and a wonderful hiking partner.

After class we drive south on I25 toward ABQ, exiting at Hwy 16, then Rd 22 (my lucky number) till we reach Indian Service Rte. 92.  We are driving through Pueblos, en route to Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument  and I strictly obey the speed limit.  20 MPH is painfully slow, but it is not an urban myth to be respectful of the laws of the reservation while driving and hiking.  We reach the fee gate, and a not too friendly person 'greets' us, takes the $5.00 per car tariff and kind of waves us on our way.  

This is a stark beautiful landscape, and we are blessed with a warm January day.  We find the parking lot, I back in (old girl scout rules never go away), utilize a clean one-holer and set out to hike.  We pick the Slot Canyon Trail; one mile in - one mile out, with roughly a 700 ft. elevation gain.  The trail starts with a sandy loam, and an easy subtle climb.  The elevation here is lower than Santa Fe, but I still find myself huffing and puffing.  Rebekah is a patient hiking partner, stopping when I need to.  I have more than a dozen years on her and Rheumatoid Arthritis.  Not everyone I've exercised or hiked with has been as understanding as my partner today.  RA is an insidious, invisible disease.  You cannot tell I suffer from this autoimmune disorder by simply looking at me.  Well, maybe if you take a good scan you'll notice my thinning hair and brittle finger nails,  These are medication side effects that I diligently try to counteract with vitamins and supplements.  Sometimes I hobble, especially when getting up from a chair, or after vigorous activity.  There are days that I feel pretty great and other times when pain is my constant companion.

The trail becomes more challenging with our progression.  This is called a slot canyon, so I had an inkling of traversing through some tricky passages.  Some spots allowed two-way foot traffic, and other times we stopped to enable other hikers to navigate a downhill section.  Truth is I was always grateful for a short break, a sip of water and a gander at this New Mexico sky that seemed to get bluer as the day unfolded.  Rebekah reached back a few times to offer me a helping hand or encouraging words.  I studied the twisted Juniper trees, candy-caned from years of wind.  I crush a Juniper berry  between my thumb and forefinger and whiff the scent of gin.  It is a wonder that these evergreen shrubs can survive in this dryscape.  Junipers are tenacious and I borrow a bit of courage from their roots to continue as the trail gets narrower and a wee bit precarious.

We approach a portion of the path that has benefitted from trail building,  wooden steps that make this section a little easier for me.  I bless the trail builders who make my trek manageable at this last elevation push.  But after the steps the trail looks difficult, and even though I know I am 'almost there', I tell Rebekah to go on without me.  RA has limits and I've already tested them enough today.  I settle on a rock and enjoy seeing what I assume are the Sandia Mountains through the 'tent' hoodoos.

Coming down in this type of terrain can be harder than the climb, but it seems that in no time we are back on the sandy portion and close to completing slot canyon trail.  We continue onto the 1.2 mile Cave Loop Trail, and before I know it we are back at the car and the outhouse!

To read more about our adventures read Madrid Revisited.

Time to Write,

Jane