When the cold fails, try the warmth

Five things to do instead of skiing during New Mexico’s worst drought ever

I am probably the only person in the United States who was disappointed by snowfall totals this winter.  Specifically in New Mexico, where we made plans for a sunny ski trip in February (see here for more) .  When we arrived, the snowfall total from January to mid-February at Taos Ski Valley was a skimpy (by mountain standards) 39 inches. By contrast, average annual snowfall at TSV is 305 inches.  So we did a quick turnaround in our minds, from ski trip to road trip.  Here’s a sampler of the fun.

1. Visit Taos Pueblo

Although in a constant state of rebuilding, the pueblo at Taos Pueblo has been inhabited for more than 1000 years.  Now that's history!

Although in a constant state of rebuilding, the mud brick pueblo at Taos Pueblo has been inhabited for more than 1000 years.  The Pueblo is considered the oldest continuously inhabited community in the U.S. Now that’s history!

Taos Pueblo, home of the Taos Pueblo people,  is one of the few UNESCO World Heritage historic/cultural sites that is also a living, breathing community, although the winter population drops in the Pueblo drops to about 100 people.  (Many more dwell in modern homes on the surrounding tribal land).

Although residents no longer enter and exit their homes through holes in the roofs (doors have been added), the Pueblo has neither electricity or running water.  Water is hauled from the stream that runs through the Pueblo.

Residents no longer enter and exit their homes through holes in the roofs (doors have been added), but the Pueblo lacks both electricity or running water. Water is hauled from the stream that runs through the Pueblo. Living here is not for the faint of heart.

 

The church in the Pueblo was built in xxx, after the Spanish-built church was destroyed in XX.

The San Geronimo Church in the Pueblo was built in 1850, after U.S. Army destroyed the Spanish church that dated to 1706.  The Spanish built the first San Geronimo in 1619, but this original church was destroyed during the Pueblo Revolt of 1680.

Although the Pueblo welcomes visitors and everyone we met was friendly and hospitable, the Pueblo people guard their heritage. Visitors are welcome at rituals and ceremonies, but absolutely no photos are allowed during these events.  Brochures and other materials remind visitors not to interrupt ceremonies with questions or comments.

Today the Pueblo is striving for a balance between cultural tourism and community preservation, but for most of their history, what the Pueblo people most wanted was to be left alone. Although not warriors by tradition, they were definitely willing to fight for the right to self-government.

The Pueblo people were conquered by the Spanish around 1615, but revolted twice, in 1640, and then again during the 1680 Pueblo Revolt that spread through all of New Mexico’s pueblo communities. They held off the Spanish for 16 years before being defeated in 1696.  Later, in the 1770s, repeated attacks on the pueblo by the Comanche led the Pueblo people to seek Spanish protection.  The Comanches also scared the hell out of the Spanish and prevented expansion of their empire, but Spanish soldiers were able to protect Taos, a small island of Spain in a vast land ruled by the Comanche.  Lots of history happening out here in the West while the American Revolution was heating up in Boston.

The site of the 1706 San Geronimo Church.  The church was destroyed during xxx by the U.S. Army during the second Pueblo revolt.

The site of the 1706 San Geronimo Church. In 1847, the U.S. Army destroyed the church, where women, children and elderly had taken shelter, in retaliation for the murder of New Mexico territorial Governor Charles Bent. Bent was killed by a group of townspeople and Native Americans during an attempted revolt against the U.S. government, which had just taken control of New Mexico during the Mexican-American War.

2. Check out the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge formerly known as New Mexico’s Bridge-to-Nowhere

View of the Gorge from the bridge.

View of the Rio Grande Gorge from the bridge, 650 feet above the river.

Just a few miles outside of Taos, the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge spans a narrow canyon carved by the river.  When the three-span steel continuous-deck-truss structure was completed in 1965, the feds ran out of funds to build a road, so until the 1970s, when U.S. Route 64 was rerouted through Taos, the bridge was called the Bridge to Nowhere.

The bridge definitely goes somewhere today–Route 64 ends at the Four Corners of New Mexico, Colorado, Arizona and Utah–but we didn’t follow that road.  We did take in the amazing views and hiked for a mile or so on the West Rim Trail that hugs the gorge for nine miles (18 miles RT).  It was great to be out hiking in the scrubland in mild temperatures.

After our visit to the Gorge Bridge, we traveled by car and foot to the bottom of the Gorge.

After our visit to the bridge, we traveled by car and foot to the bottom of the Gorge in search of hot springs.

3. Soak in natural hot springs

Not sure if I really want this photo of me in my bathing suit on the Internet, but the hot springs sure were nice.  The springs are clothing-optional and most opt out, but teenagers and nude parents do not make a good match.

I’m not sure if I really want this photo of me in my bathing suit on the Internet, but Black Rock Hot Springs sure were nice. The springs are clothing-optional and most opt out, but teenagers and nude parents do not make a good match.

After our hike along the Gorge, we used a combination of local directions and iPhone GPS (never to be completely trusted in rural areas) to navigate our way on a rough dirt road to the John Dunn Bridge and the Black Rock Hot Springs.

Although not that far from the homes of Arroyo Hondo, the bottom of the Gorge felt very isolated and a little bit spooky.  I reminded myself that these hot springs are well-known to locals and likely to be populated by mellow bathers rather than Deliverance-style killers.

We did run into a few naked people, but they weren’t carrying spears, and were quite friendly and polite.  After they finished their soak (the pool was pretty full of people), we took our turn and enjoyed sitting in the 97 degree water while the Rio Grande flowed past us on its way to the Mexican-American border.  Eventually, a local mom and her four-year-old daughter joined us, thus quelling any lingering notions that a drug-addled maniac was about to burst forth from behind a rock.

Memories of Charles Manson mingled with those from the movie Easy Rider to fuel my paranoia.  The scene in which Dennis Hopper and Peter Hopper go skinny dipping with two girls from a hippie commune was filmed at nearby Stagecoach Springs Hot Springs (also called Manby Hot Springs).  Although nothing chilling occurs in that particular scene, the audience senses impending danger as the two men continue on their journeyFortunately, from our hot spring pool, we had a clear view of the trail to the parking spot and would at least spot the killers before they sprang upon us.

The commercial hot springs at Ojo Caliente also looked tempting and everyone recommended them, but we decided against more driving on a hot springs quest and opted for soaking in the hot tub at our rental.  Something to leave for the next visit.

4. Hike Devisadero Peak in the “off-season”

On the Deviserado Loop Trail (about five miles and fairly easy), we had great views of Wheeler Peak, New Mexico's highest at 13,159 feet. If we had been better prepared for hiking, we probably could have completed the trek up to Wheeler. Typically the mountain would be drenched in snow at this time of year.

On the Deviserado Loop Trail (about five miles and fairly easy), we had great views of Wheeler Peak, New Mexico’s highest at 13,159 feet. If we had been better prepared for hiking, we probably could have completed the trek up to Wheeler. Typically the mountain would be drenched in snow at this time of year.

Relaxing at the summit in a grove of pinon and juniper trees.  Someone built these Adirondack chairs from rocks.  The chairs were a bit chilly, but we didn't mind.

Relaxing at the summit in a grove of pinon and juniper trees. Someone built these Adirondack chairs from rocks. The chairs were a bit chilly, but we didn’t mind. Back in Maine, we call these temps “spring.”

“Devisadero” means “lookout point” or place. The Pueblo Indians once used the great views from the peak to stand guard against Apache raiders.

During the spring, summer, and fall, hikers and mountain bikers pack the trail, but only a few hardy hikers, bundled up in jackets, hats, and mittens, were out on the 40 degree-ish morning that we climbed the mountain. We had the 8,304-foot summit to ourselves.  It wasn’t really warm enough for shorts, but my son dons them whenever the temps top 40, hence his nickname, “The Seal.”

5. Find your way to Tent Rocks National Monument.

Some of the so-called "tent rocks." Millions of years ago, volcanic eruptions left a 1000-foot thick layer of pumice, ash and tuff deposits, which have gradually eroded to form these conical hoodoos and other formations.

Some of the so-called “tent rocks.” Millions of years ago, volcanic eruptions left a 1000-foot thick layer of pumice, ash and tuff deposits, which have gradually eroded to form these conical hoodoos and other intriguing formations.

On our last weekend in New Mexico, a late-arriving email tip sent me to the map to look for Tent Rocks National Monument.  I am soooo glad we found this surreal place, which had me looking for Hobbits and wondering if a dragon might slither around a corner.

Playing in the slot canyons of Tent Rocks. During a heavy rain, these canyons become raging streams.

Playing in the slot canyons of Tent Rocks. During a heavy rain, these canyons can become raging streams.

At Tent Rocks, we hiked along a sandy trail that led past hoodoos with rocks balanced on their points; slot canyons with walls that rose hundreds of feet; and an ancient cave where someone camped out hundreds of years ago.  Eventually we climbed to a high plateau for great views.

Tent Rocks is another “middle-of-nowhere” place, but only about 40 miles from Albuquerque, so it was quite busy with hikers of all stripes and ages when we visited.  Be sure to bring water on your trip (or fill up at the gas station/sub shop/store in the tiny town of Cochiti Lake), as no water is available at Tent Rocks.

 

Okay, my subtitle reads “five things to do,” but I need to highlight one more item for the list:  Relax.

Lounge around at the rental.  Watch sunsets.  Read books.  Surf on the internet and read more about the Southwest in Travels with The Blond Coyote, by New Mexico-based Mary Caperton Morton,who travels all over the United States living in a tiny TearDrop trailer.

Plan your next trip.  Forget the skis, remember the sunscreen.  Rinse, and repeat.

Pueblo cat, outside one of the small gift shops.  Internet cats get lots of love, I've learned!

Pueblo cat, outside one of the small gift shops. Internet cats get lots of love, I’ve learned!

Sources and resources

Directions to natural hot springs in the Taos vicinity.

Trail maps for Deviserado Peak

More info on Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument (Take note: no dogs allowed).

Missing my (Wild)Cat: Skittering on New Mexico’s ski slopes

Ready to skitter down the slope at Taos.  Note blue skies, warm sun.

Ready to skitter down the slope at Taos. Note blue skies, warm sun. In the background, 12,481-foot Kachina Peak.

Here in New England, skiers are familiar with what I call the “skitter” – the combination of a clattering sound and a slipping movement a skier experiences when she is cruising down a slope and suddenly encounters a patch of hard-packed snow-ice.  The best skiers hardly notice the ice and continue flying straight down the hill.  Others dig their edges into the ice and carve a turn.

But on the skitter, I choke.  I try to ski uphill.  Or I slide sideways across the icy patch, and then try to slip down the slope inch by inch, all while praying that the slope angle levels out a bit.  Sometimes I stop dead in the middle of the ice and try not to cry.

I’ve been working on the “lean in and carve” technique, but I was really looking forward to skitter-free skiing in Taos, New Mexico, the fabled land of fluffy white powder.  Although I once spent New Year’s  skitter-skiing in the Lake Tahoe region (where conditions are often similar to New England’s), I had never skied in “real” Western ski country: the powdery mountains of Utah, Colorado, or Taos.  Taos Ski Valley has a reputation as an expert’s mountain, but the trail map showed plenty of blue and green trails.  We could also visit other nearby areas, like Red River and Angel  Fire.

I also wanted sun.  With 300 days of sunshine per year, Taos was sure to deliver.

We left Boston’s Logan Airport just in time to get out of the way of a snowstorm heading to New England–a storm that eventually dropped 15 inches of powder in the White Mountains.  Although the snow had been falling here in the Seacoast all winter, the storms were mostly coastal events.  Throughout January,  the mountains up north were pretty bare, with lots of skitter potential.  But the weather pattern changed in February.  The snow kept coming and coming.

Meanwhile, out in New Mexico, the land was and is bone dry.  The state is having its worst drought since record keeping began.  The mountains had some snow early in the winter, but it has barely rained or snowed in New Mexico all winter.   The result: The. Worst. Ski. Conditions. Ever.

I WAS ready to panic when I saw the double-black diamond trails in front of the main lodge.

I WAS ready to panic when I saw the double-black diamond trails in front of the main lodge.

The land surrounding Taos is rugged and beautiful, with mountains rising from scrubby plains.  But the conditions at Taos Ski Valley were abysmal.  Although the mountain does offer green and blue terrain, it definitely merits its reputation as a place for expert skiers. The experts like to hike up a steep ridge (after getting off a lift) so that they can  ski from 12,481-feet Kachina Peak down steep cliffs into a bowl full of soft powder.

This year, the bowl had only a thin lining of snow, but on our two visits to the mountain, plenty of hard-core skiers were hiking on the ridge to challenge themselves on the steep icy terrain.  Some even considered it fun.

I never intended to ski down from Kachina Peak, although my husband probably would have given it a go if the conditions were better.  But I was looking forward to cruising down blue trails under sunny skies.   We had the sun, but the blues were steeper than what I’m used to and very very icy.  Lots of skittering; one burst of crying and profanities.

The poor ski conditions couldn't take anything away from the charm of the Taos avalanche rescue dogs.  The dogs continue their training, but haven't seen much action this year, which is probably a good thing.

The poor ski conditions couldn’t take anything away from the charm of the Taos avalanche rescue dogs. The dogs continue their training, but haven’t seen much action this year, which is probably a good thing.

The green trails mostly consisted of thin roadways linking various expert ledges and bowls, and were very very icy.  Although I felt confident negotiating these trails, the conditions were unnerving:  imagine sliding along ice on a flat narrow trail with steep double-black diamond drop-offs to one side.  As an intermediate skier, I felt like I had to be constantly vigilant, ready to dig in.  I couldn’t relax.  Oh well.  After the skiing, a hot tub awaited.

We stayed in a great little rental guesthouse in Arroyo Seco that once had been the three-car garage for actress Julia Roberts, before she sold the property to the current owners.   The views were wide and sweeping.  Just after dark, a million stars glowed in the sky.  Later at night, the moon rose and glowed above the mountains.

I loved watching the moonrise at sunset from the porch of our cozy rental in Arroyo Seco.

I loved watching the moonrise at sunset from the porch of our cozy rental in Arroyo Seco.

We did lots of other things during our stay in Taos (See my next blog post, Five things to do instead of skiing during New Mexico’s worst drought ever).

People who live in Taos can’t imagine living anywhere else.  As our host explained, after living for years in wide-open country with views of the mountains, she feels claustrophobic when she returns to the tree-shrouded East.

I too love those open views, the way the moonlight lights up the wide sky.  But after more than a week in New Mexico, I missed my woods, the coziness of being surrounded by hundreds of tree.  I missed my mountains, where the lifts take me to the summits for 360-degree views, and blue and green trails lead me to the bottom.

During our stay in New Mexico, the snow continued falling back East.  In Pinkham Notch, at Wildcat Mountain, the Polecat top-to-bottom trail was soft with new snow.  Skiers were sliding easily through the Wild Kitten tunnel.  The weather was probably bitterly cold and gray, and the visibility near zero, but it would feel like home.  The snow would make me brave enough to try the black diamonds.  If I skittered on upper Lynx, I could deal, because I know where the steep pitch levels out.

Lesson learned: If I am going to skitter-ski, I want to skitter on home territory–not only do I know the lay of the land, but the skittering is cheaper and more convenient.

Fortunately it hasn’t snowed since our return. The temperatures remain low, and the snow has been  hard-packed into concrete ice by all those skiers who enjoyed the February storms. I can hardly wait to get to the mountains.

P.S. As I was fine-tuning this post, we had a mid-March storm that dumped two feet of snow in the White Mountains.  Talk about crushing my soul!  How am I going to practice my carve and turn in these conditions?

No snow, no worries, not with sunny skies, great views, and a warm picnic table for lounging.  Julia Roberts, who formerly owned this property, now owns a house at the end of ditch.  No sitings during our stay in Arroyo Seco, but we weren't really looking for her.

No snow, no worries, not with sunny skies, great views, and a warm picnic table for lounging. Julia Roberts, who formerly owned this property, now owns a house at the end of ditch. No sitings during our stay in Arroyo Seco, but we weren’t really looking for her.

Drinking coffee and looking for aliens in Roswell, New Mexico

In Roswell, in need of coffee and a bathroom, we stopped at McDonald’s.  I ordered a cup of Newman’s Own and opened out my wallet.

“Fifty-three cents please,” the cashier said.

Fifty-three cents?  Where in the United States does anyone sell coffee for 53 cents?  Back in 1978, in a nice restaurant, my grandfather loudly complained about paying 50 cents for his coffee.   He expected his cup to cost a dime, but the rest of the family understood that 50 cents was the going rate.

But that was 35 years ago.  Now, here in Roswell:  53 cents.

As I waited for my cup, another customer approached and placed some change on the counter.  “I’ll have the senior coffee,” he told the girl.

Senior coffee?  I looked down at my receipt.  Sure enough, the cashier had charged me the “senior” price for my coffee, with no ID required.  Roswell surely was a place of bizarre happenings.

The initial newspaper article told of a UFO, but the next day another military press release reported that a weather balloon had crashed.

The initial newspaper report told of a UFO, but the next day another military press release reported that a weather balloon had crashed.

Roswell is famous as the town in the-middle-of-nowhere, New Mexico, where something happened in 1947, on an isolated ranch just outside of town.  Exactly what happened, no one knows, or at least no one is telling.  Many believed—and still believe—that a UFO with three or four aliens on board crashed and burned on the scrubby plains outside of town.  The official story from the U.S. military was a crashed weather balloon.  The “Roswell Incident” has made this small city, located 200 miles from anywhere else, an unlikely destination.  Like many others, we had come to Roswell to find out what happened back in 1947.  The senior coffee was—I guess—a bonus.

To get answers, we turned to Dennis Balthaser and his UFO Tour, which, as he informed us, is the #1 Attraction in Roswell on TripAdvisor.  He’s not so popular at Roswell’s International UFO Museum and Research Center, which has banned him from the premises.  I wasn’t surprised when Dennis told us of his banishment, as he struck me as a man of strong opinions.  Sometimes battles rage bigger and longer in small communities than large ones, because the combatants can’t disappear into a crowd.

Dennis was a congenial host in Roswell and full of information about the mysteries of the 1947 "Roswell Incident".

Dennis was a congenial host in Roswell and full of information about the mysteries of the 1947 “Roswell Incident”.

Dennis spent more than two hours driving us around Roswell and out to the former military base where the military might have packed some aliens off to another facility in Dayton, Ohio.

The Roswell Incident occurred on a July night in 1947 when something fell out of the sky. Rancher Mack Brazel found debris from the crash when he went out with his teenaged neighbor to check on his sheep.  He took some of the material back to his shed and then brought a few pieces to show his neighbors, the Proctors.  They suggested that the debris could be the remnants of a spacecraft and told him he should bring the material to the sheriff.

A strange series of events followed.  Major Jesse Marcel, an  intelligence officer for the 509th (Atomic) Bomb Group which was based at Roswell Army Air Field (RAAF), went out to the ranch to investigate.  The Roswell Daily Record, via a military press release, reported as  a flying saucer. But as higher ups got wind of the crash, the story changed.  The next day, the Air Force announced, in a second press release, that the saucer was  actually a weather balloon. To read the entire story of the incident, check out the UFO Museum’s description.

The flying saucer story was quashed and forgotten.  The citizens of Roswell didn’t want to make trouble.  World War II had just ended.  After pushing back Hitler, the military enjoyed unsurpassed support and respect.  Best not to ask too many questions.  Nine years earlier, Orson Welles’s radio broadcast, “The War of the Worlds,” had caused hysteria and panic, with many believing that the fictional drama was an authentic news report.  Why stir up that pot again?

But then came the 1960s, when everything was subject to questions.  In Roswell, residents began to share stories.  Mack Brazel had been warned not to talk, and didn’t.  But the radio station owner said he’d been told that his broadcasting license would be pulled if he reported on the incident.  The local mortician said that the Army had called to inquire about the availability of child-sized coffins.  The sheriff’s two daughters recalled hearing death threats made to their parents.  As the years went on, various military personnel sworn to secrecy began to talk about what they remembered, mostly fragments and bits of information.  Lots of secrecy. Boxes put on planes.  Heads without noses, and slits for mouths.  Shiny materials that could be crushed into a ball and then spring back into their original shape.

Dennis is a man obsessed with finding the truth.  Somebody knows something, but those somebodies won’t with be with us forever.  Many have already died, taking their Roswell secrets with them. Dennis encouraged us to go the Museum, take in more information, and make up our own minds. We shook hands and headed over to the museum on North Main Street.

On the February morning when we visited, the International UFO Museum in Roswell was bustling with people interested in learning more about the Roswell Incident.

On the February morning when we visited, the International UFO Museum in Roswell was bustling with people interested in learning more about the Roswell Incident.

The Roswell UFO Museum mostly consists some hokey alien figures (fun for photos) and  walls covered with newspaper clippings.  Much of the information echoed what Dennis had told us.  But at the Museum, I learned that 1947 had been the summer of UFOs.

On June 24, pilot Kenneth Arnold reported seeing some kind of disc flying at supersonic speeds in the vicinity of Washington’s Mount Rainier.   His report received widespread media coverage.  In the following three weeks, people reported hundreds of UFO sitings all over the country, including a report in Milton, Massachusetts, near my hometown of Weymouth.

These UFO sitings came on the heels of reports from wartime military pilots of seeing glowing orbs floating in the sky, phenomena that were dubbed “foo fighters.” Pilots initially believed that these “foo fighters” belonged to the Germans—that they were some kind of flare or secret weapon—but after the war, German pilots revealed that they too had spotted the orbs.

What were the foo fighters?  An official panel reported that they might have been electrostatic phenomenon, but they didn’t really know.  Was the Roswell Incident the culmination of a UFO hysteria that created a UFO out of thin air?  Did one story beget another until we arrived at a grand finale?  Or were the UFO sitings that summer—and the foo fighters–the explorations of extraterrestrials who had discovered Earth, and the Roswell crash their grand finale?

I don’t know if a UFO landed outside of Roswell.  But after my visit to this off-the-beaten track locale, I’m convinced that something happened in Roswell and that the military didn’t want the public to know exactly what.  Extraterrestrials?  Maybe.  Experimental weaponry or devices related to the atomic bomb, or which monitored Soviet activity? Possibly.  Could the alleged bodies have been human, disabled children or adults?  Sounds far-fetched–and I don’t want to start any rumors—but 1947 was the era of the Tuskegee Study, in which scientists knowingly allowed syphilis to progress unchecked in hundreds of black men so that they could study its effects over time.  Anything’s possible.

Then again, maybe it was a case of too much coffee.  At 53 cents a cup, it’s easy to keep on drinking.

Aliens in Roswell.  Pictured here is my son, NOT my grandson.  But now I wonder:  should I try the senior coffee scam at home and see if I can get away with it?  I do have an AARP card.

Aliens in Roswell. Pictured here is my son, NOT my grandson. But now I wonder: should I try the senior coffee scam at home and see if I can get away with it? I do have an AARP card.

Additional information:

According to this 2013 NBC News report, “After 66 years, the Roswell UFO Incident belongs to the ages,” the final report from the U.S. Air Force, in 1997, stated that the  wreckage came from balloon-borne experiments used to monitor Soviet nuclear blasts, and that the bodies were probably crash dummies used to judge the effect of high-altitude falls.  (Both Dennis and the UFO Museum, however, point out that such dummies weren’t invented or used until several years later).

Every July, Roswell hosts the Roswell UFO Festival, which packs this town of 50,000 people with 20,000 guests interested in everything from pure fun to serious research about UFOs.

Another UFO-related event is the Experiencers Speak conference, which is a gathering of people who believe they have been abducted by UFOs. In 2013, the conference was held in Portland, Maine (See Portland Phoenix article, “Alien abductees gather in Portland“).

Exeter, New Hampshire, the home of UFO abductees Betty and Barney Hill, is taking a page from Roswell and trying to develop its own UFO tradition, with the Exeter UFO Festival.