Southwestern Autumn

Organ Mountains in the distance

I suppose that anyone who has lived in New England will always compare autumn foliage elsewhere to the blazing maples of memory. 

Picacho Peak is hiding on the left

However, I loved these golden leaves against the deep blue Southwestern skies, seen as we rode our bikes yesterday along La Llorona Trail. The warm October afternoon and the sight of the Organ Mountains and Picacho Peak in the distance didn't hurt, either. 

Morning Glories, Cotton Fields, Gray Skies

We are lucky to have so many places for bike rides all around our neighborhood. We can travel along quiet back roads through suburban and farm areas. We can catch one end of the paved bike trail that circumnavigates the nearby city and travel for miles paralleling residential and university streets. And we can ride the many miles of hard-packed dirt trails next to the irrigation ditches that bring water to field crops throughout the Mesilla Valley.

This morning we tried one of the ditch trails close to our house and found that it took us past this cotton field. I'm sure the farmer probably isn't as delighted as I was to see these morning glories mixed in with his cotton crop, but I loved the picture they made in the early morning light of a cloudy day.

Look closely to see the cotton bolls forming at the bottom right. 

This trail had good stretches that took us under shady trees, then it opened to this view of the Dona Ana Mountains. With an early start, we had plenty of time to ride before the sun heated up too much. I love a good, flat, cool ride!

Bike Ride: Las Cruces Flood Control Dam

The beginning of the ride, with Beez in the distance

Even though I understand the need for flood control in a place that can get a lot of its annual rainfall in two or three good storms, I am still fascinated by the fact that a great big earthen dam stretches across the desert city of Las Cruces. 

I checked out some of its statistics, found in this report: 

• The dam can hold back 12,500 acre feet of water (one acre-foot being the amount required to cover one acre to a depth of one foot)
• It's three miles long and up to 67 feet high
• The crest of the dam is 20 feet wide and used by walkers, joggers, and bike riders

It's an interesting ride. Looking up toward the mountains, you see desert scenes. 

In the other direction, it's all urban with distant views of more mountains. That's Picacho Peak on the left. Our house in nestled in the rural area of the fertile river valley at its foot. 

Riding in a Herd

Last weekend Stahmann Farms of La Mesa, New Mexico (just a bit south of Las Cruces) hosted its first-ever family bike rally. Part of the road that goes through their pecan orchards was shut down for safety with the help of the police.

Here is what the road looked like without anyone on it before the rally. Our family has always called this trees-over-the-road look a "tree roof."

And here are the bicyclists taking off. There were about 150 of us. Beez and I were among a handful of gray-hairs; the rest were young families with little kids.

The newspaper account of the event can be seen here, and Beez has all of our photos on his blog right here including a photo of himself (in the brown shirt, 5th photo down).

More Scenes from the Canal Ride

Here are a few more pictures from our early morning bike ride along the canal last weekend. You can really tell that we live in an agricultural area. Things are growing everywhere...

Some newly planted chiles

I think this is a field of alfalfa

Pecan orchard

Horse corral

A lovely rose bush planted far from any house

The couple who owns this garden is always out tending to it by 6AM in the cool of the dawn

Biking Along the Canal

Whether you call it the acequia or the ditch or the canal, it is the lifeline that brings water to the fields of the Mesilla Valley and makes the place an oasis in the midst of the Chihuahuan Desert. I tend to call it whatever I have last heard it named; I spoke the other day with a native of the area who has lived here for 85 years--he was charming and he called it the canal, and so I call it that now.

Early, early on Saturday morning, just as the sun was coming up over the Organ Mountains, Beez and I climbed into our saddles and took off for a lovely ride up the canal. The skies were an unusual overcast gray that made the light, together with the low angle of the rising sun, just perfect for photography.

We passed chile fields, alfalfa and onion fields, and maybe even some cotton fields, although we don't know how to recognize young cotton plants just yet. The mother ducks herded their babies along the water banks, the air was cool and smelled like water and soil, and everyone we met along the footpath called out, "Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

I'd Ride a Mile for a Camel

Today wasn't such a good one for seeing rabbits. The only one I noticed was hiding behind a fence, as though he knew that I was finally carrying a camera on my dawn bike ride. I did, however, see the camel and the zebra. I don't know why they are there, but after seeing them the other day in a backyard down the block and telling family and friends, I was grateful for the photo opportunity so that I could prove I wasn't seeing things. When the camel stands up, she (he?) is so tall that she can easily look over the adobe wall.

A Good Day for Rabbits

Cool damp morning air on sleep-warmed skin. Breeze-blown sprinkler water freckling my cheek. Fiery red orange sun popping loose from the horizon. I use just two speeds on my bike on these early morning prairie rides: "Wind at my back," and "Going the other way."

It's a good day for rabbits; I've seen two already. They are always there, I'm sure, seeing me, but today I have a good eye for them. They start to hop, then freeze when they see me, one eye cautiously looking my way. "I see you, little rabbits" I say softly, and wait for them to move on.

Mary Austin, when writing about the desert in A Land of Little Rain, said this: "Rabbits are a foolish people. They do not fight except with their own kind, nor use their paws except for feet, and appear to have no reason for existence but to furnish meals for meateaters." I think that rabbits dancing in the moonlight might disagree.

Reason for existence? I am glad that I am not judged so harshly. Or am I?