through the Cebola canyon

Well, it's been a season of roads here. First the 14 miles into Pie Town, then after a sufficient sleep on the lawn (all the bunks were full), gathering supplies, eating breakfast, an evening walk of 17 miles out to the TLC Ranch which graciously allows us to camp on their property. They provide water and an outhouse, too... Really awesome!

That walk was marked by a spirited conversation with Brainstorm, who I haven't mentioned before, but he and I started on the same day. He's got a great sense of humour, and as I learned in our conversation, he tutors students in algebra and calculus. We discovered a shared love of abstract algebra, particularly groups and rings. Our talk was kicked off by a guy in a four track vehicle who offered us cold water from a metal pitcher. He lives out here and revels in the stars and lonely spaces. He feels the presence of God and all that good stuff.

Anyway, despite weary feet, we came in to the ranch with a hundred ideas flying through our talk, and Brainstorm ended it with a bear hug for me. We joined the others sitting on a porch, folks like Apples, Man Hands, Blink, Mountain Goat, Tall Son, and Si Nombre, some of whom I knew, and others I'd get to know better walking the next day.

I nestled my tarp and sleeping bag between two sage bushes, but didn't sleep until after ten because Mountain Goat and I talked for over an hour after others (perhaps wisely) went to bed.

At dawn, we all began moving for... A twelve mile road walk! Jeesh!

This part of New Mexico is on a vast scale, but mostly private ranch land with isolated peaks in the far distance. We just have to grin and bear it, but roads are harder on the feet, for sure.

friend Si Nombre scrambling in the Cebola.

Around midday, now on sandy trail skirting impressive sandstone cliffs past an abandoned cabin, I reached a large stock pond with brown water, though it filtered quite well. I rested here over an hour, with 17 miles done, and wanting to do only another six or so. I read, closed my eyes, stretched my toes, which were elevated on my pack. Oh, on the road a guy in a truck gave me a carbonated drink, said his name was Hoover. Thank you sir!! So I drank that, ate a tortilla, cheese and cookies.

I'm writing this from my solo camp after 23 miles. I found a good tree to sleep under. The wind is blustery, sometimes very strong, but I suspect it'll die down after dark. In the morning... More roads, uff!

Oh, Patches and Emma just walked in, they'll sleep around here too. I must remember to read the Luis Borges short story he recommends about a vast and unreadable library, metaphoric of the world.

here I am in a toaster house bedroom, pack loaded up for the four days to Grants.