Long Drive for a Short Hike
Monday, July 15th, 2024: Blue Range, Hikes, Southwest New Mexico.
To help my knee recover, I was preparing for a major change in my lifestyle and routines – daily short walks around town instead of long weekly hikes in remote mountain wilderness areas. But I still wanted to get out in nature on Sunday, and it was still hot, so I was desperate for a shady, high-elevation hike with little elevation change.
Since it would be a short hike, I could justify a longer drive, and there’s a ridge trail on the Arizona border, in one of the most remote parts of our region, that I’d been saving for a situation like this. It runs south from the rugged backcountry road that leads to the “valley at the end of the world” that I’d explored last October. I knew it would be forested, at least at the start, and it offers the option of a side trip with a total of four miles out-and-back and less than 500 feet of elevation change.
Driving toward the turnoff at a high point on the highway, I watched a range of mountains in the northwest, a range I’ve seen and driven past dozens of times – and driven through once – but have never been able to figure out. The topography from a distance doesn’t intuitively match the topography once you’re in it. I vowed to study the topo map in detail at home later, drawing a transect across the high points and comparing it with the profile as seen from the road.
The backcountry road is difficult and slow, but the most spectacular in our region. It winds up over a low forested divide, then down into the broad forested valley of a major creek, then up over an exposed pass with a forever view, down into the narrow forested canyon of a tributary creek, and finally up onto a forested plateau at 7,200 feet. None of this is visible from the highway. Despite the road featuring a popular campground and a series of dispersed campsites, I only passed one other vehicle in 13 miles.
The trailhead is just past the Arizona state line. Getting out, I realized this hike wasn’t going to meet all my criteria – it simply wasn’t high enough for cooler temps. It was already noon and the temperature here was in the mid-80s. And the plateau forest, a mixture of ponderosa, pinyon, Gambel oak, and alligator juniper, was open enough that shade was spotty.
The trail showed no recent bootprints but was well-traveled by cattle and horses, and it started out fairly level. Early on, it ran near the rim of the plateau and I got a view west over the “lost valley” toward the distant 9,000-foot Mogollon Rim. I saw a wildflower I’ve never seen in our local mountains, but couldn’t easily get my camera to focus on it.
The trail traversed down into a shallow gully and passed a junction with a mostly abandoned side trail that crosses back into New Mexico. Past the junction, the main trail got rockier, with more ups and downs, entered a recent burn scar, and eventually emerged on the rim of a big side canyon, where my map showed it would descend 400 vertical feet. To save my knee, I would turn back and explore the side trail I’d passed earlier.
Fortunately this canyon rim featured rimrock that made it a rewarding destination in itself.
I returned to the junction, and a short distance down the side trail I found a gate and wilderness signs, marking the state line. The tread was faint, overgrown in spots, and occasionally blocked by logs, but I had no trouble following it. Parts of the surrounding slopes were sadly overgrazed. When the trail started climbing between a series of low peaks, I climbed just high enough to get my bearings on the topo map, then turned back.
Back at the trailhead, it was after 2 pm, and I’d hoped to stop at a cafe on the highway for a late lunch, but the cafe closes at 3. I really didn’t want to repeat that difficult road, and wasn’t sure I could make it in time that way. My other option was the road over the mountains, where I’d been stopped by fallen trees the last time I’d tried it. I decided to try it again.
It’s another spectacular road, but since I was hurrying I didn’t stop for photos of the views. It basically climbs the crest of this small mountain range, through dense and mostly intact fir-and-aspen forest, to the shoulder of the summit at 8,700 feet, and then descends steeply to an 8,000-foot pass on the highway. It’s a 15-mile drive on gravel and rock, and to my chagrin, took 50 minutes, so I missed lunch at the cafe. On straight roads my vehicle is slower than most, but on this extremely twisty one you couldn’t make better time without sliding off and plunging hundreds of feet to your death.
Still, it’s a beautiful and really remote landscape, I didn’t see another vehicle anywhere up there, and I was glad I’d finally explored it.
By the time I got home, I’d spent 5-1/2 hours driving and 2 hours hiking. I wonder if most Sundays will be like this while my knee recovers?
I did study the map at home and finally discovered that those mountains I’ve always watched from the highway are indeed a named range, but a little-known one that’s omitted from most maps. The backcountry road crosses the middle of the crest as viewed from the highway, which is counterintuitive because the profile from the east masks the interior topography. It’s really complex, but I’m starting to figure it out. The only bummer is that all of it, including the wilderness area and the high peaks, is overrun with cattle.
