Thursday, June 02, 2005

Brett, Caleb, and Micah: Wheeler Peak, May 2005


Taos Creek Campsite: Memorial Day Weekend 2005


Wheeler Peak: Memorial Day Weekend 2005


Coyote Creek State Park: Memorial Day Weekend 2005


Memorial Day Weekend 2005: Coyote Creek Campsite Close-Up


The Bus at Coyote Creek State Park: Memorial Day Weekend 2005


Angel Fire Vietnam Veterans Memorial


Flags at Angel Fire Vietnam Veterans Memorial


Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Bienvenidos!

Welcome, for those of you unfamiliar with Spanish. Thanks for checking out my blog. Summer is in full swing for the Rimer family and we'd like to share our Memorial Day weekend trip with you.

(See the above photos that correspond to the text of this post.)

This is the inaugural road trip for our 1973 Volkswagen camper van.

We start on Old Route 66 heading east out of Albuquerque to New Mexico State Highway 14, the Turquoise Trail. This takes us north through old mining towns and the revitalized Madrid (pronounced "mad-rid"--accent on the first syllable-- by locals, which is infuriating to Spanish purists who insist on the Castillian pronunciation "mah-dreed'--accent on the second syllable), a coal boomtown turned artists' colony. From here we take the 599 Santa Fe Bypass (Santa Fe is great, but that's another trip) to Highway 68, continuing north past the Santa Fe Opera House through Pojoaque and Espanola. Great views of the Rio Grande Gorge (a miniature Grand Canyon of sorts) reward our trek through the high desert. The run-off from snow-melt is at a 30 year high, so the river is swollen and the rafters and kayakers look to be loving it. The drive along the Rio Grande on the way into Taos brings with it some sheer drops to the river that provide a bird's eye view of the river runners below. We turn east onto Highway 64, which takes us into Taos Canyon, our first night's camp site.

The evening is already cool as we pull into the last available campsite next to Taos Creek. I start a campfire, and Jacque, my wife, cooks dinner (Dinty Moore Beef Stew, her favorite) over the blue propane flames. The boys, Caleb (4) and Micah (18 months), seem content to enjoy their camp chairs rather than trying to jump into the fire, so I relax and enjoy the crisp mountain air. We all eat a relaxed dinner while listening to the singing of the birds, the rushing water of the creek, and the numerous motorcyclists making their way up the canyon to Red River for the Memorial Day Weekend Bike Rally. The boys find the motorcycles to be most interesting, whereas Jacque and I are taken by the Columbines that are just beginning to bloom. As the light fades, we all pile into the Vee-Dub and snuggle into our sleeping bags for the night.

The boys fall asleep immediately, but Jacque and I continue to be awakened alternately by the traffic, campers seeking "our" site as their headlights illuminate the interior of the bus, and the boys' impressive snoring duet. The cool evening turns into a cold night (probably in the 40's), and by morning everyone welcomes the campfire I get going. After breakfast the sun climbs high enough to warmthe day into the 60's, and we pack up and head over the pass into the beautiful Moreno Valley and the town of Angel Fire.

Here we take a hike on the Angel Fire Ski (we like to say "Snowboard") Area Nature Trail, which provides a hike-stopping view of snow-capped Wheeler Peak (New Mexico's tallest, at 13,161 feet) and the Moreno Valley. Caleb tires of walking (as do I, with Micah on my back) as the 9,000 ft plus altitude has a way of getting ones attention, so we make our way back downhill. The chairlift has been closed due to lightning and the threat of heavy rains, so we decide that off the mountain is the best place to be, as have all of the downhill mountain bike racers gathered on the deck to wait out the weather. An antsy rider walks his bike to the top of a small cliff to drop into the parking lot via the most direct route. I am impressed as he effortlessly falls (well, I suppose the falling part was pretty easy) and directs the bike flawlessly down the face and into the dirt road below.

Off we go again, heading south to Coyote Creek State Park. Here we find a perfect campsite--the last spot, off by itself on a small rise overlooking the creek and the rest of the park, with its own permanent picnic shelter. This allows us to put our gear in the shelter in order to open up more room in the camper--much needed since it isn't a pop-top. We set up just in time to be greeted by the rain, so we lounge in the bus while we wait for the sun. It faithfully appears a few minutes later (pretty common in New Mexico) and Caleb and I go to check out the creek.

Jacque and Micah eventually catch up with us (after Caleb steps into the mud) and we all head back to the campsite to clean up. We then go for a hike on the ridge above the park, avoiding the poison ivy along the way. By the time we get back, we are ready for dinner--Campbell's Steak and Potato soup and our favorite salt and fresh cracked pepper crinkle cut Kettle Chips. The kids opt for peanut butter crackers (a highly nutritious dinner, mind you), although Micah does like the chips. I build another fire after dinner and we enjoy our coffee (not the kids, of course) while we sit and watch the stars come out. Then it's off to the van for lights out.

The boys again sleep well, but Jacque and I are again entertained by the symphony of snoring combined with regular bouts of heavy rain and hail. We fall asleep at some point and the night turns out to be not quite as cold as the previous one. Because of the warmer and soggier morning, we manage to stay in our sleeping bags a little longer.

When we make it out of the bus, the weather is pleasant and we take our time with breakfast, forgoing the fire as it would be futile anyway. The highlight of my morning is catching a glimpse of the bright yellow body and red head of a male Western Tanager (a bird I have never seen before) as it flies in front of me and perches briefly in the willows near our campsite. After packing up once again, we head off north (I see another male Western Tanager), past Angel Fire and Eagle Nest, to Bobcat Pass, on the ridge above Red River. We park at the Enchanted Forest Cross Country Ski Area at an altitude of about 9,800 feet.

Earlier this year I pulled the kids in a pulk (a sled pulled by a cross country skier) as Jacque and I toured the forest in the snow. The snow is now melted, but the trails are still great for hiking. We like to geocache, so out comes our GPS with the coordinates for the Enchanted Forest Cache already programmed in, and we hike up to the cache. It is hidden in an ammo can under a fallen tree. Caleb takes a fireman action figure and we leave a Mississippi quarter. As we hike back, I see what I believe to be a Veery (another new bird for me). Back at the bus we are entertained, as we eat our lunches, by gray jays (we used to call them camp robber birds), Juncos, and a Steller's jay that have come to eat the leftovers from the sandwiches the boys didn't finish. As the rain starts up again, we retreat into the bus to watch the birds finish off their lunches.

With the sky crying on this Memorial Day, we return to Angel Fire. The Vietnam Veterans Memorial is perched on the hill like a white dove with its wings spread low to its sides. This chapel and monument, originally privately funded and constructed, has been standing since 1971 (long before the well-known "Wall" in D.C.) as a tribute to a doctor's fallen son and all Americans who served in Vietnam. My own father, David Rimer, served in the 9th Division, 1/11th Artillery as a medic in 1968-69. I and all who know him praise God for his safe return and continue to pray for God's hand of healing to be on him and all vets who returned.

We stop along the side of the road as our sons sleep (the monument is overflowing with people, so we can't make it in) to pay our respects and take a few photos. Under a cloudy sky, the United States flag, the New Mexico flag, and the POW-MIA flag all fly at half mast, like three crosses standing on a hill. I pray that there is somehow an element of redemption in that scene.

As we roll back onto the road and make the climb over the pass and back into Taos Canyon, the weather begins to clear. We refuel in Taos and head down the road into the Rio Grande Valley once again.

Normally we motor on home at this point, catching an occasional glimpse of the action below, but we have always wanted to stop and watch. Approaching the river, we see droves of spectators lining the banks, watching the kayakers and rafters running the more difficult and spectacular rapids. Drawn into the fray, we race (ok, we are in a VW bus, so use your imagination) from pull-off to pull-off with the rest of the river rats, watching the spectacle repeat itself. We get some great photos and it's quite fun, sort of like spectator sports for the mountains-and-rivers crowd--a soggy super bowl, if you will. We follow the fun all the way to the take-out--some of the boats are already being loaded up for another trip--and then settle in for the trip home.

As the river gives way to the high desert and the high desert gives way to the casinos, we find ourselves rolling past the Opera House once again and by-passing Santa Fe (if you lived in New Mexico, you'd understand) to get to the Turqoise Trail. Passing Cerrillos, we wave up into the hills toward High Feather Ranch Bed and Breakfast where Jacque and I spent a delightful anniversary weekend last year, entertained by the stellar innkeeper, Marianna, and several delightful guests. The straw bale hacienda is an amazing structure nestled naturally into its surroundings. The hummingbirds swarm like bees along with a myriad of other species of birds and wildlife. Check it out if you like B&B's and are ever in the Albuquerque/Santa Fe area.

Traveling south, Madrid gets our attention once again, and it's crowded with people walking up and down the streets. Traffic slows to a crawl (not a problem in the VW), as nearly everything does in Madrid, thus its quirky charm. The Mineshaft Tavern is crowded. The theater out back will draw many throughout the summer with its melodrama. You throw marshmallows at the villain while booing, gasp for the perils endured by the damsel in distress, and then cheer for the hero as he saves the day. The sing-along beforehand is fun too--brush up on "Dinah" and "Bicycle Built for Two" among others.

The bus doggedly climbs the hill going south out of Madrid like the little engine that could, allowing us to look out over the Sandia Mountains, home to our local snowboarding (ok, and ski) area.

Trucking back into Albuquerque through Tijeras Canyon brings us full circle. Back to the city. And now we have to unload the bus--I think I'll take a nap first.