Rio GRANDE.....Gorge

That desert sun so high above and yet so close, so close - baking and burning with fury unrivaled. Nothing moves, save the wind - dry and dusty, carrying with it the sweet smell of desert sage - and the occasional brown lizard breathing deep, drinking in the dryness....truly this is his land.


Breathe deep now.....deeper....deeper.....deeper.....deeper


Descent: 500 feet, 600 feet, 700 feet


One and a half miles zig zag zig zag down across the face of the scar. 880 feet below the rim....water. Cold as ice beneath that sun that chokes everything.


But it's a DRY heat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Splash! Into the stream, raging river as it were, gloriously cold....sucking the wind from within my lungs. GASP!!!! And it comes back as quick as it left. The current pulling me now, left from the vantage point of anyone watching from the shore. Downstream, faster than I can swim.....go with it. Let it wash over my sun scorched body and carry me effortlessly down, down, until eventually TEXAS again...but no, Texas was for another time.

This is NEW Mexico. Wild Rivers and all that. Land of reds and yellows and browns and greens all swimming in an ocean of sand and sandstone and limestone and granite and all those volcanic rocks for which I have no names.


I climb up and out of that cool drink. I sit with my back against a lone Willow tree as he leans over, stretching his fingers to lap up that cool water. Lifeblood of this land. Water. Shade and Water join together to cool me to the core. An oasis cutting north to south across this place.


I find myself dry within minutes of emerging from the water and begin my hike back to the top of this place. Up and Up. 100 feet, 200 feet. Up and Up. Winding back and forth along switchbacks and narrow little straights. Pausing now and again to catch my breath. The exertion on the trip back to the top, fighting gravity now....Up and Up....much more.....up and up.....difficult....up and up....than the way down. 300 feet. 400 feet. Exhaustion. Legs burning with the strain. 500 feet. 600 and 700 feet.


Up still another 100 feet or so, I can see over the top. One more switchback and I am over the ridge, exhausted. I lay myself upon the sand, wet now with sweat running down my brow and my back, running in pools and streams down my arms and chest.

I breathe deep that dry desert air.

I turn and look back across that expanse that I now know so well.

I am content.