State Hopping
June 11, 2005
Wow, our fourth state and 1200 miles under our hooves :) Yep, south eastern Colorado . It's amazing looking back at a map at how much territory we've crossed--a quarter of the way. The trip from Santa Fe to Trinidad was absolutely beautiful with, once again, just simply the best people along the way.
My last night at the Santa Fe Horse Park, John, the manager invited me over to his home where we spent an enjoyable evening with his family, over a candlelit dinner, fine wine and terrific conversation. The next morning we hit the road to Tesuque, NM, 20 miles or so north of Santa Fe. Ralph and I had scoped the route out earlier and had a tough time trying to figure out the route, but with the help of a wireless laptop computer we were able to Mapquest the route over the major expressway and onto beautiful Bishops Lodge Road . The road was absolutely gorgeous, probably the prettiest ride to that point. It was winding and narrow and my next host Willa from the Horse Shelter truly recommended against it, but I was so glad we rode it. It really reminded me of back home with trees, grass, pastures, white plank fencing and beautiful old homes. After a night's rest at Willa's, we headed on up to Nambe, where Willa met us along the way with water for the horses. I had a D-ring blow out on Val's saddle just before we approached our next host, Mark and Monique of Rancho Nambe. Previously, when Ralph and I had scoped out the route, we had met George, just a truly nice man, who offered assistance if I needed it on my way to Rancho Nambe. Thankfully he was able to repair my saddle, while the owner of the small ranch, Cindy took me on a tour of her charming adobe and gallery that housed beautiful photographs from her world travels. Once the saddle was repaired we continued the mile or so onto Rancho Nambe, where the world and all its worries absolutely disappeared. The 280 year old Spanish adobe, set among large old trees along the banks of a river, and green, green pastures, rambled on as a private B&B and an Arabian horse farm. The owners Dick and Sarah, Mark's parents, were such down to earth hosts, and Mark was incredibly caring and supportive, while Monique had a smile that just wouldn't stop. The evening brought a Sangria jewelry party that Monique was hosting and for the first time in two months I was among girls with skirts and painted toenails. How much I missed my clothes and sparkling sandals from my own wardrobe and it felt good to purchase and wear a pair of earrings for the first time in months. I left Rancho Nambe feeling renewed and headed on up to Truches, by far the sweetest smelling and friendliest town I've been through. The beautiful rivers and green pastures of Nambe had turned to rolling hills with sparse high desert vegetation. We were heading up 1000 feet in elevation, but once in Truches, the setting turned picturesque. If I had my brushes and paints I would have painted the lush, lush mountain grasses, trees, cows and beautiful sunsets, while taking in the sweet smell of lilacs and honey locust. It reminded me so much of something my father would have painted. The people were just as beautiful. I was featured on the front page of the Santa Fe newspaper and so many people came out to wish me well and offer assistance. I was heading up the mountain to Chris and Coco 's, a referral from Sally, Ralph and Roper, and averaged 1.75 mph because of the well wishers. Chris, from the mounted patrol search and rescue team, had met me earlier in the day, ahead of the road construction, and was able to get me through it safely, for which I was grateful. We ended up staying a few days and nights while scoping out the route, hauling packs on ahead to my next host family and to make contacts in Taos . Chris and Coco are established riders and packers and can step out of their mountain log cabin and ride through National Forests and mountains on three sides. Coco was a terrific lady with such a great can-do attitude. I love the ladies of the west. And Chris was a gentle man who went above and beyond the call of duty in being a great host. He actually rode with me the day we left, up pretty difficult terrain, zig-zagging up the mountain to reach the trail on top of a ridge, at 9000 ft. elevation. One of my well wishers in Truches was Shawn, who absolutely took me under his wing to ensure that I was okay. I didn't have a host family for my next town, Penasco, and he was able to line up Vicki and Eric, in Llanos. Shawn met me along the way, and delivered a beautiful hand written letter, with a poem about death and healing. When I pulled into Penasco, Vicki was meeting me there to trailer me up to her home, which would have taken me 10 miles out of the way--too much to ask of my tired companions, and thankfully she did. The sky grew dark, the winds began to howl, and hail came pounding down, just as we arrived. Vicki and Eric were hosting their family for the night, and Annie, Vicki's sister, her husband Juaquine, and Uncle James, all brought together my most eclectic night yet, with wonderful food by chef Juaquine, and terrific conversation from a group of people who had lived on the east coast, the mid west, the west and Latin America. I once again, admired my vivacious hostess, Vicki, an extremely capable woman with a tremendous spirit. As we were loading up the trailer to get back on route, Tucker, Vicki and Eric's charming five year old, gave me his pre-school graduation photograph to take with me, which made me smile, and Vicki gave me hugs and a beautiful leather medicine pouch that housed a turquoise horse, and sage that was given to her by a wise woman. I too shall pass it on, when the time is right and my journey is complete. My next stop was at Pam and John's in Talpa, just south of Taos , where Jerry from CIT met up with me over the Memorial Day weekend to ride with me again for a few days. As I was heading into Pam and John's the sky blackened and lightening was striking, I urged Val and Rocky on, and we just made it to the barn as the sky let loose. NM has the highest incidence of horseback riders being struck by lightening and I wasn't taking any chances. Fortunately the storm blew over as Jerry pulled in with his truck and trailer and set up camp. Pam and John were hosting an all-breed horse show for the weekend, and were pretty hectic, but we were all able to go out and enjoy a meal. The next day Jerry and I headed on up to Sandy and Bunny's house on the east side of Taos, where Sandy, another member of a search and rescue team met us along the way, as she was transferring panels to set up corrals for our arrival. Sandy, an artist, and Bunny, a writer, were wonderful hosts as well. Sandy took us on a tour of Taos and her art studio. Taos has an interesting setting, with it's mountains to the east and flatlands to the west, where a crack opens up in the earth to reveal the Rio Grande Gorge. You couldn't see it, nothing but flatlands, for miles, until you came up to the bridge and looked down. Eerie. To the south of Taos was the Carson National Forest which was incredibly, and I mean incredibly beautiful. Mountains, rivers, pines, lush pastures and Aspens. NM has it all, and it was hard to believe the ride I was riding was actually in NM. It could have been VT or NH. After our tour we picked up Mediterranean food to take back and eat while I measured out grain and Jerry shod his horse Curly. The next day was Memorial Day and Sandy wanted to ride with us to Angelfire. Memorial Day in Angelfire brings on thousands and thousands of motorcyclists to pay tribute to the Vietnam War Memorial and then to head on up to the Red River Motorcycle Rally. We had to go through a very narrow winding mountain canyon pass to get to Angelfire and three experienced horsemen told me to trailer through the pass to Angelfire because of the motorcycles. Sandy was really nervous about riding through Angelfire through the pass and we decided to trailer to Clay's C Diamond C Ranch, my next host, in Eagles Nest, just beyond Angelfire, and to just do a day trailride once there. As luck would have it, the ranch manager Paul was just taking out a family, Nancy, Lew and Sean from Pueblo , CO on a trailride on the Elliott Barker Trail in Angelfire, and asked us to join them. So we never did unload the horses there; we turned around and unloaded at the trailhead and took a beautiful mountain trailride for the day. After the ride Jerry, Sandy and I trucked over to Ute Park to see if there were any facilities there, 20 miles away and our next destination. Indeed, there was a state park with horse corrals so we were set for the next night. After saying good-bye to Sandy, Paul and Linda, who takes care of the reservations and books for the ranch, and Jerry and I all went out for pizza. My first pizza in a long time. Afterward Jerry and I settled into the 16 bed bunkhouse for the night where I took a bubble bath for the first time in months. The next morning, I headed out on Val and Rocky for some much needed solitude, and Jerry headed onto Ute Park to set up camp. I met him there late afternoon, where he had set up camp, including a warm shower in the horse trailer. It smelled like manure, but it sure felt good. Jerry made dinner on the Coleman stove and lit a campfire, which, believe it or not, was the first campfire of the trip. It sure smelled good and we were joined by Patt and Rick, our camping neighbors from Colorado , for cookies, hot cocoa, and campfire conversation. The next morning I hugged Jerry good-bye for what we both knew would be the last time. After a tearful hug, I headed on out over the Rockies to Cimarron , where the Rockies meet the Great Plains . I was amazed at, boom, how quickly the mountains ended and the grasslands began. No warning. No rolling hills. Just grasslands as far as the eye could see. Just like the high desert that I had traveled through previously from Flagstaff to Albuquerque . Without having cell phone service for five days, I rolled into Cimarron not knowing anything more than my next host family was Ed behind some historic hotel, and that he had been chief engineer at Los Alamos during the building of the Atomic Bomb. I found the hotel and there was a woman outside, who later turned out to be Sandy, Ed's wife, who concurred that it was Ed's place who had worked with the A-Bomb. Ed was picking up guests in Albuquerque and Sandy said I could stay at the hotel and helped to make arrangements for my horses at Jana and Dennis' stable a block away. Sandy invited me over for dinner and to meet her guests at 6. I took a much needed, long hot shower, and headed over for cocktails in a beautiful old adobe home that was painted white and blue, with festive accent colors. The house had belonged to Sandy 's grandmother and Ed's father was the handyman for years and years. Both Sandy and Ed had married their respective spouses, divorced, and years later became reacquainted, married and purchased the home that had such history from both sides. In fact their story was so fascinating, it was featured in the local tourism magazine. I stayed two nights in Cimarron , and met Ed and Sandy's company from North Carolina , Steve, Kim and Courtney, their high school daughter, who accompanied me for twenty miles on Rocky the day I left. Delightful girl. For my next stop, I camped out in a pasture at the CS Ranch in Crowcreek, where Val and Rocky didn't think anything about galloping toward my tent in the middle of the night--twice. My heart was in my throat, each time I screamed STOP, fortunately they did. Raton was our next destination, where I was to meet with Linda, a retired school teacher, who had made arrangements with Jennifer for me to stay at the local motel, while my horses boarded at Linda's beautiful new stabling facility. That night we went out to dinner where 13 or so horse people came to share dinner and stories, and where I ate my first chicken fried chicken. The next morning Jennifer met us for a tailgate breakfast of great NM burritos. After saddling up the horses, and saying good-bye, I headed through to Raton pass, the border of New Mexico and Colorado . I was supposed to call John, the deputy sheriff and a member of the mounted patrol search and rescue, once I crossed into Colorado , but I didn't have any cell service. Crossing into Colorado was beautiful, the Rockies loomed off in the distance and I had climbed up, up, and up. I headed on up Interstate 25, which was extremely harry. The shoulder had narrowed to less than five feet, with a rock wall climbing up my right shoulder, guard rails and no escape route. At one point, two trucks passed by, and I swear one grazed my shoulder. A sheriffs car pulled along side of us, with its lights flashing, and the deputy sheriff strolled out. "I must have missed you at the pass." "Did John call you?" I asked. "I AM John." I was so glad to see him. He agreed to trailer us the last six miles to Trinidad to get us off the Interstate, that had become too dangerous for horse travel. John took us to the Sheriff's department in Trinidad where we were met by two reporters who interviewed us and took photos. Afterwards, we trailered 10 miles north, off route, to John's home where I was met by Ales, John's fun, spontaneous, gregarious wife, and their children Amanda and Daniel. Thirteen year old Amanda later told her mom, without knowing anything about my story, "Mom, she's traveling with a little boy and has angels all around her." That so touched my heart. We had a mini-vacation in Trinidad , with wonderful hosts, and a great friend from back home meeting us in Trinidad . It was a wonderful break. The horses rested, ate well, and I felt like a girl again...in my orange sequined sandals and jeans from back home. After a tearful good-bye to my good friend, John and Ales softened the good-bye with a wonderful dinner of homemade stuffed soppapillas surrounded by great family. The next morning, Ales and I both headed out on horseback to ride 9 miles together to get us back on route. I continued onto Tyrone my next destination another 11 miles. If I looked back I could see the Spanish Peaks , two snow capped mountains, on the west side of Trinidad , with the beautiful Rockies farther behind. What loomed before me was nothingness. Vast grasslands and telephone pole, after telephone pole, mile marker after mile marker. The next ranch that I stayed at belonged to John, a 70 year old, plus or minus a few years, and his 92 year old mother. John WAS Tyrone. It was hard to believe that this was Colorado . Back east we don't think of Colorado as prairie, but it is, at least the southeast corner, heading into Kansas . In Tyrone, this time I was camping out in a separate pasture from Rocky and Val, but they had to share their 20 acre pasture with three bulls, six sheep and a ram. Ultimately it was the Ram that caused our downfall. After a horrific night of fierce winds that would have picked us up, sending us clear to Kansas , had the tent not been staked down, the next morning I went to grain the horses, but couldn't find them. I walked the pasture to find Val and Rocky penned in by the sheep and the Ram. I led Rocky out, with Val usually following, but she stomped and snorted at the Ram. As I turned around, to my horror she had a gaping wound, dripping with blood, where she had ripped open her shoulder on the barbed wire fence in the 20 acres trying to escape the Ram, sometime during the night. I woke John up for assistance. He trailered us to La Junta, the next big town I was headed to, to the La Junta vet clinic. There, Dr. Ken was able to sew up Val's shoulder and Judy and Bill, our next hosts are putting us up for four days while Val spends a few days healing. The trooper that she is, Val has yet to complain once on this trip, God bless her. As I sit here typing this, I know June 22nd, the one year anniversary of Sam's death looms ahead of us, but I thank God for the blessings in my life, from past to present, and am so thankful I am encountering the help and support that is getting me through this healing journey.
God bless always, and in all ways,
Linda :)