On the Way to Get Some Pumpkin Empanadas

I thought you might like to listen to some mariachi music to get you in a Las Cruces mood...

Fall in southern New Mexico is fiesta time; it's time for parades (it seems like every weekend), the Southern New Mexico State Fair and Rodeo, The Whole Enchilada Fiesta (known locally as TWEF), various wine and jazz festivals, hot air balloon events, and Dia de los Muertos. Coming in November are the International Mariachi Conference and the Renaissance ArtsFaire. You can see a calendar for this year's events here.

The high desert weather cooperates, of course. Chilly nights make for good sleeping, and the mornings warm right up, but the days don't get too hot.

With the cooler weather, our appetites start to return. Yesterday Beez and I thought that some pumpkin empanadas would make a good snack, so we headed out to (what else?) La Fiesta, the best bakery we know.

Here is what we saw along the way. I hope that mariachi music is still playing while you check out this amazing truck. The art work makes me look forward to el Dia de los Muertos.

If we were back in New Hampshire, we would be sipping fresh apple cider and munching on buffalo burgers at the Deerfield Fair. This truck (and those empanadas) tell us that we are, indeed, in a very different land.

"As skeleton-happy New Mexicans know, honoring departed souls is not some eerie voyage into the macabre—in fact, it’s an annual cause for celebration" ~Miranda Mirklein

Under the hood

The hood itself

Detail on the back of the truck

Thinking Ahead to Winter

Later note, October 7, 2013: Mystery solved, thanks to a friend who loves research. This is apparently a bagworm, and you can read all about its life and habits here.

These little guys are all around our patio. The caterpillar is somehow making that case that you see hanging down. At this point, he is still able to crawl around, dragging his case behind him and looking for the best place to settle in for the upcoming colder weather. Eventually, he will seal up the end and think his caterpillar thoughts until he is ready to come back out for the big reveal. 

I have no idea what he will turn into. Do you?

The completed case could easily be mistaken for a piece of wood a couple of inches long. Some even have very convincing "twigs" sticking out of them. Pretty amazing. 

The Catwalk is No More

In a recent post, ironically titled Desert Dwellers in Search of Water, I told you about our visit to the Catwalk Trail along Whitewater Creek in Glenwood, New Mexico. We were lucky to have seen and walked this historic trail, because the recent disastrous flooding has wiped it out.

Thanks go to Facebook friend, Alison, for alerting me to the terrible situation. 

These Are the Colors of Fall Around Here

I always get nostalgic for the beautiful foliage and crisp air in New Hampshire at this time of year, but we have a different set of colors (and some much warmer air) to love here in New Mexico. 

The skies range from deep blue overhead to a near-turquoise near the mountains. The chile plants are a dark green, and now that the green chiles have been harvested the scarlet of the red chiles starts to shine out in the fields.

Thanks, Beez, for that last photo. Mine was way out of focus.

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!

Desert Dwellers in Search of Water

In the desert southwest, it seems that we have either too little or too much water at any given time.
Check out that flooded road ahead!

We're enjoying a pretty good monsoon season this year. In some places in New Mexico, we hear that the clouds pile up every afternoon and the rain comes down, just like clockwork. We aren't always so lucky here in the Mesilla Valley--the clouds often seem to slide on by (a friend calls it the teflon effect) to drop their moisture somewhere else. However, we've managed to get 5.67 " of rain so far this year, spread out over 37 rain days. Not a lot, but more than we've received in some years. Keep reading to find out about a place just up the road (in New Mexico terms) that has almost too much water at times.

Sidebar: I just finished reading The Camel Bookmobile by Masha Hamilton. The protagonist, an American librarian called Fi, has taken on a project to deliver books by camel to the farthest reaches of the Kenyan desert, spreading literacy to wandering peoples who might never have held a book before. After spending some time in a place where every drop of water is precious, Fi finds herself dreaming about water in all its lovely forms, and especially the ways she is used to lavishing it on herself back home in America--luxurious shampoos, deep baths, big drinks of icy water, and so on. I wish I could share the exact quote about her water dream with you, but the book is already back at the library. (I hope you get a chance to read it, as it is a good story that also raises questions about foreign aid and bringing "progress" to traditional peoples).

Back to the idea of water here in New Mexico. As a former New Englander living in the desert southwest, the smallest (and briefest) puddle will stop me short, and I long for the sight of a flowing stream.  Fi's dream is one that I might have had. Lovely, cool, flowing water...

And so, as a Labor Day gift to ourselves, we set off in search of water. In only three hours by car, we found it up in Catron County, near a little town called Glenwood, on the Catwalk Trail along Whitewater Creek in the Gila National Forest.

Here's where that monsoon rainfall comes in. The Catwalk Trail area is open only from 8AM to 1PM during the monsoons, because it is one of the places where the rain comes down in serious amounts in the afternoons. Because the trail goes up a box canyon, any rain at all can bring dangerous flash flooding and debris flows. The roads into the area can become impassable and downright dangerous.

Speaking of dangers, we got a kick (sort of) out of this signboard at the entrance to the trail, which warned happy hikers of the possible troubles ahead. From the left, we were told that we might encounter flooding, rabid foxes, cougars, bears, dry conditions (no open fires or fireworks, please), falling rocks, more bears becoming angry due to the presence of dogs, and rattlesnakes. To round out the list, there was also a sign showing the Statue of Liberty and promising justice for all (which seemed somehow threatening under the circumstances). 

In spite of the warnings, the picnic area looked rather inviting. There were some immense shade trees that we thought might be sycamores. 

And here it was: Lovely flowing water at last! The creek was deceptively deep in the middle, flowing fast, and it was very, very cold. 

Further up the trail were the catwalks, which apparently were first put in during the late 1800s for workers who maintained a water pipe leading to an old mill at the mouth of the canyon. The walkways were eventually improved and strengthened, and became the Catwalk Trail we see today. 

Every once in a while, as we moved up the trail, there were more signs reminding us to watch for rattlesnakes. By the way, have you ever seen a rattlesnake in the wild? They are usually very difficult to spot, as they blend in to their surroundings so well--good thing they have that rattle to warn us when we get too close. I'm speaking theoretically now, as we didn't actually see any snakes (or cougars, rabid foxes, or bears) during our walk, though I'm sure they were out there. 

The day in the Gila wasn't terrifically hot, as New Mexican summer days go--only in the high 80s. However, because of the high altitude (something like 5800 feet), it felt blazing in the sunshine and quite cool in the shade. 

The ranger came through to remind the trail visitors to leave the area by 1PM. Indeed, on the way out, the road was under flowing water in two places (see the photo at the top of this post). We carefully forded the streams, and continued on our way, happy to have seen and heard and experienced some beautiful flowing water. Back home, it was another record-breaking high temperature day (97 F.) with lots of beautiful storm clouds sliding by to drop their moisture somewhere else in the land of rabid foxes and bears.

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Thank you, Beez, for taking the photos for this post, since I left my camera in the car.