A small but lovely stream flowed in the canyon and we took advantage of the water to restock before the flow of the creek left the mouth of the canyon and drained away completley to the desert sands.

Crossing a sea of sagebrush we passed canyon walls with layers of red and yellow rock until we were out on the flats. We crossed the Rio Chama and followed a road down it’s north bank. An actual river in sight and, almost in reach, for several miles of hiking! We took lunch in the shade of some large oak trees by the banks of the river.

As the river cut down through layers of red rock, the road continued atop the mesa and pulled away. Gone were the trees, gone was anything large enough for shade. Even the afternoon Thunderheads which chased us down the valley were at an angle that still let the hot sun shine most of the time. An old signboard about 4 foot high and long ago abandoned cast just enough shadow for us to break under.

We bushwhacked across the desert, crossed highway 84 and followed the nature trail from the Ghost Ranch Museum to the Ghost Ranch facilities.

A long day of hiking, so we arrived after the dinner hour, which we had figured we would. But we found a soda machine, the campground, laundry and showers!

21 miles

The CDT uses a series of existing trails in the San Pedro Wilderness. One of these is the “Vaca” trail. Sure enough, before long we come across a herd of vaca. They do like vaca do and run away. Cows at a full gallop always look like the are going to fall over. Their hind legs just don’t seem to be able to take a full stride. Ungainly animals, obviously bred for the dinner plate and not athletic endeavors. Rounding the next bend we come across a herd of Elk. Magnificent, graceful animals; they run with speed and agility, especially obvious when compared to the cows one meadow away.

We continue up the valley following the “Rio Vaca”. It’s bad enough having to share the wilderness with cows, but it seems very odd that they’ve taken over the place names too, as if the cows are the predominate feature of which to be proud.

Rolling on to the high point of the tree covered plateau, the views are limited by the abundance of aspen, subalpine fir and Engleman spruce. We’re happy to have the trees and lush green grasses. And delighted to see another herd of Elk.

We decend on newer trail and come to an unexpected spring. We linger over lunch at the rare treat of water, cold and clear. Then it takes awhile to sort out where the trail goes, with no markings and several possibilities. We find it and drop down to the rolling rocky bottomlands, still in trees!

Afternoon thunderheads buildup, again, and we forge ahead among occasional spritzes of rain. Partly on new trail tread and partly on the older roadwalk route we take the long climb back up to another high plateau. Bands of multi-colored rock form cliffs from midway to the top. Trees continue to dominate the landscape. After reaching the rim we start a long, gradual descent down a small river vally and camp under a large ponderosa.

21 miles

During a luxurious streamside break we were passed by a family on horseback out for an afternoon ride into the high country.

The valley is lush, stands of Aspens, Pines and Firs, mix with an abundant understory of greenery. Thimbleberry plants, roses and a profusion of purple line the trail; tall larkspur, monkshood and columbine dominate. These Columbine are not like most where the flower might be the size of a thumb; these columbine were as large as a small fist. A rather tame young buck was grazing on all the greens and seemed unconcerned, at first, about our presence.

Rains swept in and fell lightly for awhile. We donned packcovers and umbrellas and kept walking. As the rain came down harder we sought shelter beneath a pair of subalpine firs. After about 30 minutes it was still raining but had let up some from a real downpour to just a steady rain. We walked on. We topped out onto the rollong lands of the San Pedro Park Wilderness. After a long climb from Cuba, we’ve gained about 3,000 feet.

The rains remained steady. With no let up in sight, and evening wearing on, we came to an area of large scattered subalpine firs set in a pocket of low hills offering some protection from the wind. We found a very protective Sub Alpine Fir, a trunk about 4 foot in diameter, 4 “Stems” and large dry spots beneath sprawling massess of limbs to set up the tent as well as cook. We made an early camp to take advantage of such a sheltering tree, set up the tent, and made dinner as the eveving chill turned cold. And then we turned in to the tent.

The early camp meant our evening hike time was cut short, our original destination delayed by rain until tommorrow.

13 miles

Mt Taylor was the high point, literally, at 11,301 feet. We arrived at the summit only after a long climb out of Grants up into and through the clouds which have been hovering above us for several weeks. On top, we actually had to wear our fleece jackets!

North and east of MT Taylor we dropped into a series of remote mesas. As we rolled along north, afternoon storms also continued to roll across the mesas, offering skies as dramatic as the landscape itself.

Tall cumulus clouds, bright white bulbous tops standing in stark contrast to the dark bottoms below, swirling and growing, dropping rain in sheets, shooting off bolts and sheets of lightning and spreading rainbows across the land. We would sometimes wait for them to pass, or hurry up to get ahead of their path; everyday chasing growing storms and emerging rainbows

Ironically, for all the “monsoon” weather the landscape was very dry. When we’d get to one of the few water sources we tank up and then stock up with 2 gallons each, the availability and quality of water ahead always being uncertain.

Approaching Cuba, the mesas become larger and more dramatic and the trail turns into walks along the base or the rim offering stunning views. We can see mountains ahead and know our route will soon return us to the high country.

In Cuba, we watch a parade of people who are passing through town as this summer’s gathering of the “Rainbow Family of Living Light” (which was held about an hour away up in the San Pedro Mountains) winds down. The gathering is a great counter-culture event, held in various places around the country every July and bringing in 10,000 to 15,000 people living alternative lifestyles. You will either already be in the know about the “Rainbow Gathering”, or you will need to “Google” it to find out more. We watch the tie-dye, camouflage-grunge and Rastafarian parade pass through Cuba. These aren’t your “father’s hippies” (well, SOME of them are); no, most of these members of the tribe did not come of age during the social revolution of the 60’s.  Most were born during the Reagan years and sport cell phones, day packs, aluminum drinking bottles and rendezvous their SUVs at McDonald’s.  Not a VW camper in site.  The town’s businesses welcome them and the town cop thanks them for coming rather than running them out of town….the times they are a changing.  With all the competition, we are only glad that we walked in and out of Cuba rather than needing to hitch a ride.

500 miles, 5 weeks, only 2 days behind original schedule

We got moving early to be able to make a good effort at getting to town. Cuba was 21 trail miles away and our success on getting there today, and most importantly getting there in time to get a room and dinner, would depend on the condition of the trail, an early start and some determination.

Crossing the mesa we had camped on involved a lot of rocky, short climbs. We traveled along the rim, mostly, but the topside sloped down away from the edge in a series of arroyos. So, it was not flat, level rim walking; it was circuitous, twisted and slow.

Leaving the mesa at Jones Canyon we found the spring fed trough with clear-ish, but bug and algae filled, water.  We filtered about 6 quarts each for the remaining day, which was already warming enough for us to know a “scorcher” was coming on.

Crossing extensive sage flats, we faced a steep climb up Portales Mesa. From a distance the Mesa looked stunning, layers of sandstone in alternating layers of various reds, pinks, oranges and whites. It’s a monolithic mass with a solid, overhanging top rock layer, also looked impenetrable. T he 2 mile approach across sage flat left plenty of time to imagine the torturous route our ascent must take. As we drew closer some slopes began to look possible.  The climb was hard, especially on the thighs.  Rocky, steep and with lots of high, thigh burning, leg kicking and stretching steps.

The views from the top of the mesa were stunning. Immediately as we topped out we began the long descent to Cuba. For the first time in weeks there was no afternoon buildup of thundershowers; a relief from the game of dodge the storm cell, but also with no clouds came no relief from the hot sun.

We bottomed out on sage flats following cairns and posts cross country to an old dirt ranching road and eventually a paved state highway. The last 4 miles, on asphalt, were fast, tedious, and as always, tough on the feet.

The long road walk was also sunny and hot and bare of any vegetation except weeds and sage. Or almost bare. There was one tree, a large willow at the front of a long driveway. We eyeballed it for over a mile and when we got there took advantage of it’s cooling shade for a short break. Even at 6pm, there was relief to be found in the shade. While we were relaxing a pick up truck drove out the driveway and the passenger offered us cans of “Pepsi Max”, a surprising and welcome bit of “trail magic”.  Enough caffeine to fuel us through the final push into town.

We had pushed hard, but made it into town by 7pm, into a room and shower shortly after and into the cafe by 8pm, well before their 8:45pm closing. We made it to Cuba!

21 miles

The day is hot, the hottest we’ve had in awhile, probably the hottest since we were in the “boot heel” between Crazy Cook and Lordsburg. The afternoon brings scattered clouds and storm cells with showers but somehow the sun shines on us most all the time, unrelentingly.

We linger a bit at lunch not wanting to leave the shade for the hot sunny trail. We hold out as long as we can for clouds to move our way but finally have to get up and go.

It’s a slow-motion afternoon. With a load of water from the one spring we cross today, with the heat and with the ups, downs and rocky footing of mesa walking, our pace falls off.  We push on ’till almost dark.

18 miles

A coyote trots across our path, seemingly oblivious to us, until he looks right back at us.

We skirt the edge of the mesa with stunning view of the lowland canyons below, as well as volcanic rock buttes. When we come to the end of the mesa we begin a 2,000 foot drop into the sculpted landscape below.

Midway down, we watched the afternoon ritual progression of thundershowers during lunch as two strong cells missed us.

At the bottom, a quarter-mile side hike takes us to “Ojo Frio”, a necessary water source. There’s a spring inside a concrete box covered with plywood which feeds a stock tank well-used by cows. Despite bugs (live) living in the box we pump water from it. It’s still better than cow drool from the stock tank and better than trying to make the next 16 miles and an overnight camp, on a quart of water. The water smells of sulphur but is drinkable, so we load up and head out.

We walk across the low tablelands including some deep arroyos. The landscape is punctuated with canyons, cliffa, buttes, and many mesas. Vertical or horizontal lines define the landscape. It’s vast, desolate, unsettled country.

Loaded again with water, and faced with lots of ups, downs, and uncertain footing our pace slowed in the afternoon/evening. We hiked until the sun went down and the full moon began to rise, pulling into a camp with sore feet, shoulders and back. We set up the tent on a prominent point, with sweeping views and some juniper trees for shelter, and made dinner while the stars came out and coyotes howled in the distance.

19 miles

The mesas are parlty covered in trees and partly covered with Sage and Rabbitbrush. Where there are trees, Juniper and Oak predominate with pockets of Ponderosa in some of the higher elevations.

Otherwise, it’s a desolate plain. The only wildlife, aside from cows, is an occasional prarie dog. We did see one very unnexpected pick up truck, as we did yesterday. The 4th of July holiday has brought out the weekend warrior car campers.

Afternoon brings the now normal build up of thunderclouds. Two strong cells of dark clouds are rumbling and dropping sheets of rain. Occassional flashes of lighting, nature’s own fireworks, add to the drama. Both storms are about 5 miles away and seem stalled. As we get closer, ground winds seem to blow toward us from the nearest storm while the couds overhead seem to move in the opposite direction, towards the storm, while other clouds in the sky seem to drift in different directions.

This has been pretty typical each day; it would seem the strong cells produce such wind patterns of their own. It makes it hard to assess our chances of being wet or dry, so we just shrug and move on, accepting what may come. There really is no other choice anyway. Today we dodge both storms and stay dry.

Late in the day we arrive at the spur trail for Ojo Los Indios spring. The Carrot goes for water, it’s her turn. Loaded back up with 6 quarts each we head out.

The road finally turns back to trail. No trail tread, but plenty of cairns and a relativey obvious pathway. We ascend to a higher mesa atop the mesa upon which we have been walking. A nearly full moon rises as the sun sets across the canyon. We make camp amongst the, Juniper, Pinion and Ponderosa Pines. Somehow, despite the dry terrain, we are pestered by mosquitoes during dinner.

Miles 23.0

A cool morning so we walked with a determined pace, just to keep warm. In a couple miles we came to the Gooseberry Trail leading to the top of Mt Taylor. A number of people were on the trail day-hiking to the summit.  It seems odd to be sharing the trail with other people. In 400 miles the only other place where we’ve seen other hikers was the Gila river. This phenomena will only last a couple miles.

We need to find Gooseberry Spring to replenish our dwindling water supply. From the trail it’s not to be seen. While the Carrot watches our packs, I use the GPS to check out the Ravine; I find the bone dry spring and stock tank.  We really need to find water, so I look further down the ravine where it’s been said water might be found. Another third of a mile brings me to an unmarked, unnamed pipe fed spring!  In total it’s a 1 mile roundtrip and a couple hundred foot elevation change diversion, but needed.

We continue to climb Mt Taylor, surrounded by mist and clouds. Long switchbacks pass rock outcroppings and slopes covered with tall grass. The cows on the lush slopes look more content than those roaming the scrublands below. Wild Iris dot the upper slopes.

At the top of 11,301 foot Mt Taylor we stand on the highest point so far in this summer’s hike. In fact it’s higher than any of the Montana, Wyoming or New Mexico CDT. We take a lunch break to enjoy the accomplishment. Occasionally the clouds lift to reveal nearby ridges or the tablelands below.

Sub-alpine Firs cover the summit, while the trail going down passes red columbine. On the lower flanks we resume a walk on remote roads. Surprisingly a couple of cars go by.

As we continue to descend we detour into American Canyon for water and come across many scattered elk.

Racing the threat of rain, we find a suitable place to camp.

15.5 Miles

Horace mesa is flat, but not level; it’s tilted so that the trail gradualy gains elevation as it approaches Mt Taylor. We start on wide open sparsely vegetated terrain, but as we climb more of the mesa, the trees turn into ponderosa and everything is more green, lush and thickly vegetated.

We had hoped to get to Gooseberry springs by day’s end, but our late start and a rougher than expected hike across the mesa leave us short of this goal by a couple of miles. Not a big deal except that we now need to make our limited remaining water work for camp and the next morning.  We sip infrequently and with care in the evening.

Although it began clear, the day turned to clouds overhead and all around. We hurry dinner and tent preparations so we are not caught out in the rain.

15.5 miles