Take Two! Cuba to Ghost Ranch: June 1st

* Day 0: Get to Albuquerque. Despite the airports' best efforts, sitting on the tarmac 30 extra minutes in Omaha and an hour in Denver. I guess in Denver they had to tape the plane back together. And then we spent 20 extra turbulent minutes circling Albuquerque. I don't think I can take another plane this year. After the motion sickness wore off we enjoyed a birria quesadilla down the street from the Super 8 in Bernalillo. Excited to hike tomorrow... Less so for the last bus ride. Sandia Peak is pretty and there's even an aerial tram to the top. Albuquerque has a light rail all the way to Santa Fe. Are we actually in Europe?

* Day 1: 5:30 alarm to catch our Lyft to the bus stop and then catch our bus to Cuba. I'm grateful I tried the hydroxyzine because I managed to catch a little more sleep on the bus and didn't even get motion sick. It's raining lightly, and is supposed to rain most of the day. Walk to the Cuban Cafe for French toast, eggs, bacon, and COFFEE, then Mickey's Save-Way for a few last supplies. Start the road walk out of town and pretty quickly decide we're too soggy to ask for a hitch in good conscience. My shoes are squishy. 6.5 miles later at the trailhead the rain's stopped, though. We continue the steady ascent up past brushy juniper, then oaks, then big pines. Purple-speckled lilies bloom in every meadow, and I spy one yucca getting ready to burst open its flowers. Rain comes and goes with a few minutes of sunshine mixed in, and thunder often rumbles in the distance. My feet stay wet and cold all day. We really start noticing the altitude when the switchbacks start - slow walking today. Past San Gregorio Reservoir we set up camp, chuckling at the "critter hangs" Cottonwood Gulch outfitters had their group of kids put up. 3400 feet of ascent today, which is the most we've done in quite a while. Time for bed.

Looking back toward Cuba during the hike up

San Gregorio Reservoir

Yucca about to bloom

Susan at the start of the trail!

Ben during the soggy road-walk out of Cuba

* Day 2: It's cool, damp, and grey in the morning. I managed not to moon any of the kids while using my cathole. Started walking by 7:40 and pretty quickly hit the bogs. Small patches of snow are still keeping them nice and squishy. Sections on higher ground through pine groves alternate with the "parks" that invariably have 1 - 4 inches of water standing around the mud and grass stems. Quickly learn the darker, leafier grasses forming boulevards through the meadows signify where the deepest water slowly trickles ever further downhill. Our feet get soaked but at least it's sunny. Along the way groups of startled elk dash off through the underbrush. We hit about 10,400 feet and stay that high for a while, leaving the bogs behind, before finally starting to go downhill on the other side of the mesa. The trail flies by as the air gets thicker and gravity aids our legs; the scrub oak start to reappear. Every so often a break in the trees yields a vista down into the next canyon, whose red and white walls sweep away to an expansive plain far below. We stop at a stream for a couple hours to have dinner, pick up water, and enjoy some lounge time, and then 3 more miles take us to camp. The weather's been lovely all day, cool and sunny and lightly breezy with small puffs of cloud blowing through, but the skies are darkening. We pitched the tent beneath one of the towering red-barked ponderosa pines and settled in just as the next set of rain rolled through.

Hiking through one of the San Pedro Parks

Plenty of boggy terrain

Ben as we start down the far side of the San Pedro Peaks

Looking toward Mesa Alta and valleys below

First glimpses of snow up high

* Day 3: Didn't sleep very well. Rained for most of the night, cool and damp and grey in the morning. Not feeling great. Cross NM highway 96 and start heading up Mesa Alta, first gaining eye level with the red band in the cliffs, then white, yellow, and grey, before finally reaching the pine forest spread across the top. The ground is all soaked from last night's rain and the clay in the soil forms a thick mud, sometimes red, sometimes brown, that cakes onto our shoes until each foot is a couple pounds heavier. Up and over the mesa, with a couple wrong turns along the way, always glancing over our shoulders for the rain forecast that afternoon. As we exit down Ojitos Canyon the dark skies finally break, bathing the expansive technicolor cliffs in sheets of rain. What starts as sporadic bursts on us soon coalesces into a constant thrum of water, peaking in a crescendo of small hail. At the time we were inspecting a water trough, trying to decide how badly we needed a break 14 miles into the day, but then scurried for some reeds that offered the best measly shelter. No break then. A brief lull in the storm allowed us to scamper a little farther to the next water trough, where we huddled under a juniper in our rain gear and ate our couscous dinner, pretending we weren't getting as wet as we were. It could have been worse, though - as the storm rolled down canyon we thought maybe it had snowed on the opposite side, and then realized it was piles and piles of hail blanketing the ground. The skies started clearing and somehow we found the wherewithal to hike a few more miles across the river and up the other side of the canyon to shorten tomorrow. We settled for the least muddy campsite we could find and greatly appreciated the 1.5 hours of sunshine that graced us as the skies became perfectly clear. 18.5 miles is a long day.

Rain moves in over the cliffs of Mesa Alta

Muddy River Chama after all the rain

Muddy muddy shoes after all the rain

Even heavier storms pound the opposite side of the River Chama

Pretty roses hiking up Mesa Alta

Hiking past the multi-colored walls of Mesa Alta

Looking up at Mesa Alta in the early morning

* Day 4: Slept better but still not great - there was a weird animal noise happening all night. And it rained AGAIN. The tent is soaked when we wake up but at least we stayed warm overnight. Susan came to the conclusion that the noise was either a bullfrog or some ghost elk that bedded down near us. We get going, soaking in the sun, the picture-perfect blue from the sky, and the soaring views of Mesa Alta across Chama River Canyon. Every so often we still come across deep piles of hail hiding in the shadows. We follow a trail along the rim of Mesa de las Viejas for several miles, rounding a bend and seeing Abiquiu reservoir for the first time. At a trail junction we decide we think we have enough time (and water) to catch the bus from Ghost Ranch to Chama and start hurrying downhill; once we hit the trailhead and start heading for the highway Susan throws out her thumb to the first truck coming down the dirt road. The driver was super friendly and gave us a quick ride down to the road for Ghost Ranch (although it would have been a much longer and hotter walk). We arranged some housing, snagged the bus for Chama, and went to work drying out the contents of our packs, showering, and picking up food for the next 6 days of hiking. Our room in Cumbre Suites wasn't the cheapest, but the little family-run lodge is super cute and homey. They turned around our laundry quickly, so between that and a delicious BBQ dinner we should be recharged for the next section.