Chaco Culture National Historic Park

The West is still wild. 

On one two mile stretch of road, there were 10 road killed deer.  Big ones, not Golden Retriever size like Alabamian deer.

Highways are segmented by cattle guards intended to keep cattle in certain districts.  Some herds are free ranging, others break out of their fenced ranges and are only rounded up yearly.  Driving can be a full contact sport.

 

 

 



 

 

They're not exaggerating!

 

 



 

 

 

This Hereford seemed to be hiding, waiting to jump out in front of me.

 

 

 

 

Passed a 20 member herd of elk.

 

Finally, I was getting closer to Chaco Canyon National Monument. 75 miles from modern civilization... Only 13 more miles of rutted, washboard dirt roads.

 

 

 

Nothing around but cattle and abandoned houses.  This one got my attention.

 

 

 

Chaco Canyon is located in the Northwest corner of New Mexico.  Starting in 850 AD, the canyon became the cultural center of Puebloan culture.  Until 1200 AD, the region was the hub of trade between tribes and the center for ceremonies.  The Chacoan had already mastered astronomy, geometry and masonry. And one lost sailor called Columbus thought he'd discovered a primitive land! 

 

 

 

The canyon couldn't support a large population due to the ruggedness of the land which didn't lend itself well to agriculture.  Archeologists believe that Chaco was a hub for religion and government with a constant small population and the capacity for the influx of huge numbers of pilgrims and traders.

 

 

 

The canyon is a sacred place to Chacoan decendants, Hopi, Zuni, Acoma, among others.  Dogs are not permitted to enter the ruins, understandably.  I was not disappointed because our run gave me the best views of the canyon, how perfectly aligned the buildings were, how straight the Chacoan roads in the canyon.  

 

 

 

Over 9 miles of rugged terrain, sheer drop offs. No, Cole wasn't allowed to chase rabbits off the edge of mesas.

 

 

 

 

Photos don't do it justice.  An utter sense of awe is felt with every view.

 

 

 

There is something magical about the canyon.  Only once before have I had a deep feeling of belonging, a real connection with a place.  When I was on a solo hiking trip in Northern Ireland a few years ago, the majesty and history of places can invade you.

 

 

 

I saw only a handful of other people, none atop the mesas.  The rangers live on the premises due to its isolated location and due to the fact that the park is often unreachable after rains making the roads impassible.

 

 

 

This picture was taken before Cole panicked and wedged himself sideways in the crevice. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

OK, you may need to take my word for it, but the petroglyphs were incredible.  They used them to document their lives, but also to chart the equinoxes.

 

It was hard to leave.

 

 

 

Seeing it at dusk was a once in a lifetime experience.

 

 

 

I managed to drive to Bloomfield to crash for the night.  I wandered into the agricultural fairgrounds looking for a place to camp.  The security guard allowed me to park for free on the banks of the San Juan River.  The grounds were locked up at 10 PM and only reopened at 6 AM.  I was snug as a bug being the only one on a hundred acres.

 

 

 

At sunrise, I left to tour some more in the beautiful Four Corners area.

 

 

 

 

 





New Mexico

Fall must be the best time to visit the Southwest.  No crowds, great weather.

The vistas are absolutely breathtaking.  Ecological diversity withevery 1000 feet of elevation change and with every 100 miles in any direction. Desert floor to subalpine mountains...botanist's dream.

Monday morning I awoke in a box canyon on the shores of the Pecos river, in Villanueva State Park, NM.

Our run was more of a rock scramble!

By late afternoon I was in Santa Fe.  This city knows how to preserve its architectural heritage. Three main styles exist here:  Pueblo (or Pueblo Revival), Territorial and Northern New Mexico.  All new construction (apartments, shops, homes, ect.) must conform to  either of the first two styles.  Everywhere the eye sweeps is an unbroken harmony of styles. I had a bunch of pictures but the computer gnomes discarded them.  Go figure.

250 art galleries and museums, mostly in the pedestrian friendly downtown.  I spent hours looking through all the gallery windows.  Cole was very patient.  3 large health food stores were within a couple blocks of each other.  Yup, I like this town.  Super friendly people, a little on the zany side!

Cole having lunch in the dining hall/sleeping quarters/ backseat of the Hyundai RV.

I spent the remainder of the daylight at a Laundromat and left Santa Fe after dusk.  All the signs warning of free range cattle finally unnerved me enough to force me to stop at an inn in Abiquiu.  After only spending money on gas and one overnight camping fee of $10, I was reluctant to open my wallet!  Feeling miserly.

In retrospect, I was happy to be seeing this countryside the next morning.  The famous painter, Georgia O'Keeffe, lived in the valley for decades.  Now, I understand why:  the landscape colors are indescribably vivid, impossible reds, vibrant yellows and skies so blue.

"I have this longing to live in one place and call it home forever, but some part of me requires longing, rather than the satisfaction of that longing".  Carl Phillips

Day 2: OK Bound and Beyond

Passing through Oklahoma on Sunday I found Greenleaf State Park.  What a gem!

6.5 mile run, over a suspension bridge too!

Second hot shower of the day and supper picnic by the lake.  Day 2 and I'm lovin' it!

I kept the car at 80 mph heading West on I-40.  Around midnight, I crept into Elk City Park (a free camping spot recommended to me).
And this what I awoke to see find the next day.  A huge flock of geese were in the lake.

So far, I am completely enchanted with my mini RV.  It is comfortable and less of a hassle to set up a tent and move bedding I and out.

Back on the road, I headed across Texas.  Outside of Amarillo, The Cadillac Ranch is a tacky, but fun stop.

Amateur graffiti is encouraged.

My can misfired (or is it the operator?) and coated the screen protector of my cell phone.  Yes, I am gifted!


By afternoon, I was driving into Santa Rosa Lake State Park, New Mexico.  At roughly 4700 feet elevation you get a grand view of the juniper and pinon mesas surrounding the Army Corps of Engineers 3700 acre lake.

8 mile run. 

Running with Captain Oblivious, he didn't even see the 3" tarantula, even after I tried to point it out to him.  He was far too busy sniffing for hares.

When I ran back past the campground, a man was crouched over the ground taking pictures. 

A fresh mountain lion track. He said that they come down from the trail I ran (gulp) at night, cross the campground and head down to the lake to drink and hunt. OK, we're moving on to another campground!

Villanueva State Park was only 45 miles or so to the North, but the twisted dark road delayed my progress.  I tore in at 5 minutes to 7 PM, just as they were locking the gates.

I love New Mexico! Even if it is 28'F in the mornings.

Prequel to a Trip

Months of training, saving and planning almost went down the tube last week.
My foot hadn't been great since the fracture, Cole's hip problem resurfaced last week, the National Parks were closed, my travel companion and second driver had to cancel and the final straw was a very lame horse.
The consensus was that I should cancel and retry at a later date.  The rationale being "when one door closes, another will open".  I say get a bigger battering ram.
Angus, my lame Percheron, finally responded to two weeks of treatment and blew an abscess out his heel.

The Parks have reopened.
The dog and I will not overdo the trail running before our ultra on the 26th.
My pretty itinerary was scrapped to more directly route myself to Utah.   No visiting friends and less shunpiking (new favorite word meaning to avoid turnpikes in favor of the road less travelled).
All I had to do was get away from the boss-- which can be difficult when self-employed.
Trying to finish up some jobs put me 20 hrs late leaving for the trip-- but, we did it!  6 AM Saturday morning, I bumped into my petsitter coming in as I was going out.
Travelling without a plan isn't my forte.  But, if you don't stray out of your comfort zone every once and a while, you won't grow.  Besides, I'm armed with oodles of information from an experienced RV vagabond and a runner familiar with my travel destination.

First stop:  Trace State Park, northern Mississippi.  The park is known for its off road vehicle trails, but I found some great quiet trails.  Cole found squirrels.

Other wildlife.

The pine needles were so thick it was like running on shag carpet.  4 mile jaunt.

 

A tour through the historic cemetery of Pontotoc, MS revealed this tombstone.

To avoid Memphis, I drove through Mississippi delta farm country.

At 10 PM Saturday night, I'd arrived at Mount Nebo State Park in Arkansas.  Too late to check into a camp site, I parked at a lookout.  This is what I awoke to the next morning.

Sunrise Point lived up to its name.

Cole and I ran around the mountain a couple times. 9 miles.

Beautiful views and neat grottoes.

My first run above 2000 feet and my feet were dragging.  Nothing a hot shower and good food didn't cure.

Enough food from home for two weeks.  2 dozen eggs from my hens, homemade everything (pesto, pasta, breads, jams, applesauce, stews), dehydrated fruit, Cole's selection of canned meats and even my salt and pepper grinders.  this is my version of luxury travel.

Driving up to the park in the dark wasn't as much fun as the drive down.

"The mountains are calling and I must go".  John  Muir

Weekend

I had one day off this weekend, so multi-tasking was necessary to squeeze the most out of the day.  The Colemeister and I did some squirrel hunting while I did my 10 mile run.  The dogs will enjoy squirrel stew over their kibbles for the next few days.  Alas, the .22 didn't appreciate being jostled around and I lost a teeny bolt that anchors the sights.  Until I can locate a specialty bolt, I may take my bow out of retirement.

No, Cole hasn't started using Rogaine.  This is Bishop, our guest for the weekend.  Cole's hip problem flared up around mile 8.  Bishop had been patiently watching us by the gate with the look of "put me in, Coach" on his furry little face.  B-Man took over the helm and we finished our last lap around the farm.

Cole doesn't mind the company.  He's smart enough not to argue with a bigger dog.

Last month, I went to my favorite building supply emporium, Bland's Discount Warehouse, in Beulah, AL.  Mr. Bland buys anything made redundant by the large hardware stores.  When I built my house, I made weekly pilgrimages to see what new goodies he'd collected.  For example, I bought three huge wrought iron chandeliers for my barn for $20 a piece.  The Lowe's stickers were still on them, they had retailed at $150 each. 
Yes, my barn had chandeliers...now you know why I didn't mind spending all my time in there!

Back to Bland's.  His store is a collection of old mobile homes tossed around his property.  No electricity, so it get Hades hot in the Summer, but it's so much fun rooting through his stuff.

It can be daunting to try to find something, but Mr. Bland knows where everything is!

I bought a new screen door.  For $70, I got a sturdy new door with hardware (retail $250) to replace my mobile home's crappy-dappy-sagging-let-the-moths-in-air-condition-the-outside door.  Of course, trailer manufacturers can't build anything standard size, so I had to cut the height of the new door and reassemble it.  Then a one hour job of installing it turned into to five because the door frame was not square either.  After shimming and rebuilding, I'm pleased with my project.

On Sunday, I finally got my Winter's hay.  My source has some of the best hay around, it's fertilized and has a nutritional analysis, but the farmer likes to play hard to get.  Since August, I've been begging him to sell me hay.  He surprised me by delivering all my hay to the farm, I didn't have to drive back and forth picking up only 3 bales at a time.

Here's what 13 bales, or $1000, looks like.

Before the big tractor burned to a crisp, our plan had been to stack the bales in a pyramid.  Dr P and I had to hand roll them into place and use his small tractor to push them up onto the pallets.  It was a workout!

Update:  the portable scale to measure Cole's dehydration levels has failed the field testing. 

When Cole is panting, the scale reads 'error'.  Not much use when we're in a rush at a race.
My concern is that Dummy will not drink sufficient water and he'll dehydrate himself on long runs. 
Plan B (this one works) is to prehydrate and sustain his hydration levels with homemade beef broth.

Voila, pressure canned broth for our trip to Utah.  Four hours total work, but isn't that what weekends are all about:  having fun!

Chaotic Days

When you feel overwhelmed, bake pies.  Works for me.

3 AM, couldn't sleep, got up and made more apple pies with homemade all butter crusts.  Anxiety just melted away.

There may not be any running involved in my upcoming vacation, perhaps only waddling.

When it rains, it pours.  Trying to cram in tons of extra work before my holiday, marathon training and home projects has left me with one sandwich short of a full picnic.  Angus, my Percheron, decided to add to the stress level on Monday by feigning laminitis.  My farrier found an abscess instead on Tuesday, which is not good, but better than the alternative.  A laminitis case would have cancelled my vacation.  Laminitis is serious...remember the famous horse, Barbaro? He was euthanized for it, not due to his broken leg.
Tommy, the (expensive) ox, was taken back to the vet school for a recheck on his feet and for a swelling in his hock.  All is well with him.
Dr P's big tractor caught fire while he was bush hogging.  His wife described how he was driving a fireball through the field trying to get it to the pond.  She said he bailed just before it exploded.  We have a resident Evil Kneivel.  I need to get him a T-shirt that states:  I Do All My Own Stunts.  Thankfully, he's OK and still has his eyebrows! Sorry, no pictures taken of the burned out tractor, too sad, almost like taking pictures of Grandma's funeral.
The same day, I saw a black coyote by his house, alone and in broad daylight.  Cole and I ran around the pasture trying to get a better look at it.  Elusive.  I saw it again the next morning heading for their backyard again, not good for a predator to show no fear of humans.  Ordinarily, I prefer to leave predators be, but one that comes into your yard looking for Yorkies and baby goats...It was dispatched.  A black coat is unusual, so I stopped by after work to examine the carcass. Smaller than Cole, but with much bigger teeth, canine piranha. I did take picture, but not suitable for kids.

Hoping for a dull weekend, Jamie

Birthday Party

My friend and I share the same birthday.  This past weekend we hosted our own party.  Helene cooked the entire main meal and I prepared desserts.  She put her 99 years of talent to the task of feeding waves of family members stopping in.  My 42 years leaves me at sous-chef level!

The other purpose of the trip to Birmingham was to help her grandson, Mark, plant the Fall vegetable garden.
Mark and I have survived our 20 year friendship in spite of some subtle assassination attempts.  After his skydiving accident, he signed me up for my first jump.  Despite my fear of heights, I did it.  In retaliation, he was initiated to downhill skiing...not a great sport for someone with screws in his ankles from a high speed collision with Earth.  But, he did it.
Mark can take credit for introducing me to racing.  A few years back, we ran a 5k in Mobile with his brother and his wife.  It was a dreadful experience.  Why anyone would pay an entry fee to subject themselves to torture?  It baffled me....now I get!  OK, I'm a slow learner.

Cole accompanied me to Birmingham.
He made it very clear that he wasn't going to be left behind.

As for my upcoming trip out West, it was almost cancelled on Friday.  I've had my route plotted for weeks and I had been waiting for my Dad to confirm his plans to travel with me before making reservations.  Sadly, a last minute snag has him stuck in Canada for another month.  So on Thursday,  I tried to reserve tent sites at my chosen campgrounds and found them booked solid.  The government shutdown has funneled all campers from National Parks and BLM lands to state and private campgrounds.  Dog-friendly motels can be hard to find, besides, it's not in the budget.  Staying at home and sulking after months of preparation wasn't an option either.
Enter the RV guru in my life:  Kim, divine goddess of road knowledge.  Within an hour of my mayday call, she had a host of options lined up for me. 

Two hours of labor, one of which was spent disabling the passenger side seat's airbags...can you guess what I'm doing? 
The Hyundai has now been converted into a mini RV.  I WILL RUN MY ULTRA IN UTAH.  Even if I have to sleep in my car to get there!  Adapt and overcome. 
Tip of the hat to the woman driving across the US right now in her converted Prius, I'm stealing all her ideas from the pictures on her blog!

This should be an interesting trip!