We Take a Walk

We live just outside of the city limits of Las Cruces and are surrounded by the 496,000 acres of the Organ Mountains Desert Peaks National Monument, our nation's newest protected area. We like to drive up to the Dripping Springs Visitor Center, located just a short drive from our house, to take walks and have picnics with friends. 

Last week we decided to walk the trail to the springs that give the area its name, since we have always just walked the shorter trail to La Cueva.

At the beginning of the trail

Looking back at the city and the Mesilla Valley

It's always sobering to see that "people have died while climbing in these mountains"

We had to stop and take a photo of the scary warning sign telling us to carry water, hike with a companion, and not to attempt to do things beyond our ability.

A shady stop along the way...

... and the view from the stone bench

Coming attractions

Although this was a winter walk, the sun heats up at 5800 feet, so that shade up ahead was looking very attractive

The first ruins we came to were of the chicken coop, livery and mercantile buildings that were part of Van Patten's Mountain Camp, the original Dripping Springs resort which was built in the 1870s.

I had hoped that this photo of the sign would be easier to read. For a really nice description of the camp and surrounding area, go to the Mountain Resort and Sanatorium post on Abigail Austin's blog, 1000 Miles on My Own Two Feet.

It was fun to imagine early travelers making the trip by stage coach.

Livery building and corrals; Mesilla Valley in the distance

Another view of the livery building and a drinking trough for the tired and thirsty horses

The mercantile

Further up the trail we came to a little snow

Bill at Dripping Springs

We heard the dripping of the springs before we saw them. In this part of the country any amount of water is exciting; in the old days the spring dripped into the cistern and the staff at the resort filled ollas (large unglazed ceramic pots) and carried the water to the guests' rooms. 

Boyd Sanatorium

The resort was sold to Dr. Nathan Boyd in 1917. Mrs. Boyd had contracted tuberculosis, so her husband converted the resort to a sanatorium--the treatment for pulmonary tuberculosis in those pre-antibiotic days called for a healthful diet, strict bed rest, and lots of fresh air.

More ruins

We loved our time up on the mountain (read Bill's account here), especially because the environment was so different from the high desert valley where we live. I'm going back up in a couple of days, this time to do some hiking in the snow.

Moving!

I've been going to the gym for the past five and a half months. If you knew me at all, you'd know that that statement should have a lot of exclamation points after it. The daily exercise has changed the way I feel about myself. I'm losing weight at a reasonable rate. I'm stronger and I have more stamina. My clothes are getting looser. I have more energy. I sleep better. I'm.... well, proud of myself! Yes, I am.

Along with the change in daily activity levels, I started following an eating plan that I got from my doctor. It contains lots of fresh fruits and vegetables, fish and poultry, and whole grains. Fats are limited to good ones; and the sugar is obtained naturally, from fruit. With small meals, plus a snack,  I find that I don't get that "need" for extra carbohydrates that used to plague me. 

If you look at the menu linked above, you will see that there aren't any fruit juices (too much of a sugar jolt), and there are a surprising (to me) amount of carbs. I guess the whole grains do the trick, keeping my body busy with digesting each meal. 

Because Beez is in training for a big bike ride from Telluride to Moab, he has been going to the gym, too, making it even easier for me to get there. Now, as his ride is getting closer, he is doing as much higher altitude biking as he can; and that gives me an opportunity to get out and do some hiking. 

And that's what we did this morning instead of going to the gym and exercising indoors. Here is my view as I hiked up (and up and up), looking back down toward Las Cruces and the floor of the Mesilla Valley along the Rio Grande, all in the hazy distance: 

My walk was all uphill at an altitude of about 5700 feet, all desert, all hot, and a challenge to me. Quite different from the treadmill at the gym! The payoff: Silence, solitude, a hot breeze, and birdsong all around. And yes, some pesky flies.

That dot way down there on the road is Beez (who started lower down than I did), battling the mountain, the heat, and the altitude. I think the next time we do this trip, we'll start out a little earlier, when the temperatures are a bit lower. It's too bad the gates don't open until 8AM.

And this was the view outside our destination, the visitor center at Dripping Springs. We want to do this hike/ride combination a lot, so that we can each measure our progress. The goal is to keep moving!

Desperate Grandparents Take Desperate Measures

I am fascinated with this sign and must always take yet another photo of it whenever we pass by the Baylor Canyon trailhead at the base of the Organ Mountains.

Mind you, I am fascinated, yes, but not so much so that I wish to risk my life taking this hike. It is hot there on the trail in the summer--so hot and dry that you can't imagine being able to carry enough water to get you up over the pass--never mind back down again. And I would need an extra backpack to carry the necessary snake bite kits. I'm serious.

Now, Beez just sees this sign as a come-on. He tells me again and again how much he wants to take this hike when he is finally retired in a few months. I can imagine that I might want to accompany him some day. Maybe part of the way. Maybe in the dead of winter when the snakes are asleep. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Maybe not.

However, we got a laugh when checking out the hiking log at the beginning of the trail. Just in case you can't read the first hiking party registration, I'll post an enlarged section of the photo below.

Gotta love that grampy!