or…. sometimes Adventure chooses you.
Alan and I are not particularly risk averse. We tend to take on pretty serious adventures, from Alan traveling the country on his bicycle in the 80s, to our 6-week wander through Costa Rica in the 90s during Hurricane Mitch, to our current off-grid remote home in New Mexico. . We generally have some kind of plan and form to our adventures, even if a bit vague.
But, sometimes the adventure chooses us, and takes over the best-laid plans. And that’s what this October did.
We started our annual fall trip into the mountains in early October, after our last Worldpacker left. Her stay had been extended a bit because the first rainstorm (of the 4 so far) came through, flooding the canyon and dropping 5″ of rain. This was after 10 months of severe drought. The county came in and repaired the culverts and got us moving within a day or two. Normal Northern New Mexico life. That normality was about to change.
Our plan was to camp for a week, visit family for a few days, then camp some more… a three week vacation. We headed first to an area we love, near Creede, CO, finding a great dispersed site on Crooked Creek. Setting up a 2-tent camp was fun: one for sleeping and lounging, the other for cooking. And for the first 4 days, it was bliss: aspens galore, stunning hikes, good food. There was even a big bull moose hanging about across the creek.
But by the 5th day, storms moved in. (This one also hit at home with 3.5″ more inches, initiating yet another fix by the county). The Rio Grande river, above us in camp, flooded, forcing evacuations by hunters and campers alike. It snowed, rained, and sleeted. After 2 days, we knew we were beat when our Skyliner tent started floating (although we stayed dry inside). We packed up in very cold, wet snow and headed north toward Denver, with a plan to visit family.
We spent a night in Salida, our first, and, we hoped (ha!), last hotel of the trip. Hotels with 2 dogs can get pricey, and aren’t much fun, although the pups do love lounging on the beds.
We then camped at Jackson Lake State Park, a place near Ft. Morgan where we have stayed many times. We found a campsite far from anyone, allowing the dogs to roam free and play on the beach. The first couple of days were great: visiting family, going to a huge, popular pumpkin patch extravaganza, taking long walks.
But, things started to turn creepy when we discovered that the lake was actually covered in a neon green toxic algae that could potentially be lethal to dogs. No signs about it at the campground, but just 1/2 mile away, multiple notices were posted. Luckily, the dogs had not been interested in the water (although they usually jump right in). We started seeing lots of dead carp, a dead pelican, and one that was sick (which Alan reported).
Then, the ultimate creepiness arrived: a massive infestation of black flies took over our camp. I won’t say more, but it was gross. After trying to deal with it for a day, we had to leave: another hotel in Ft. Morgan for two nights.
A third storm swept through northern New Mexico that week and dumped a couple more inches. For that reason, we delayed our return home and moved to a new hotel in Aurora to spend three days with our grandsons. That was fun and productive, but by then my tolerance for the city was about exhausted. I’ll be honest, I don’t know how anyone can handle the noise level. My ears hurt. Listening to the Traveling Wilbury’s song “Tweeter and the Monkeyman”…. the line “and the walls came down, all the way to hell”, I truly felt I was in the 4th Bardo right then.
At this point, the 4th and most recent storm charged in across the Southwest, the one that made all the national news with massive flooding and damage to Pagosa Springs, Shiprock, and Farmington. This one left over 7″ of rain on already saturated land. Alan and I knew we needed to get home and assess the damage… see if we still had a road, a cat, or a home.
We left Denver on Oct, 24th, heading south on I-25 to the little town of Ft. Garland where we stayed in a mom and pop motel. Many roads were closed due to the storm, so we had to take a huge detour south to Tres Piedras (near Taos, the Earthship Community, and the Rio Grande Gorge). We drove through the village of Manassa, NM, which was literally under water. People were outside, up to their thighs, trying to clear culverts and ditches.
Knowing already that our road was going to be a mess, we stayed one last hotel night (our 7th overall) in Chama. The friendly owner made the dogs happy with blankets and treats. By now, Clair and Zane were getting pretty sick of being in the truck and on leashes all the time. They are ranch dogs, after all and usually don’t even wear collars at home.
Okay, to the crux of this story:
We drove into our road the morning of Oct. 26. And were stopped after a mile by a torrential river flowing down what had been our little county road. We met the road crew chief, who had on waders to walk upstream and take pictures. I tried to walk to the edge, but lost a shoe in the mud. We put on our rubber boots, and climbed uphill to an old roadbed that runs parallel to the arroyo. Below is what we saw.
We hiked past the devastation, and finally came around the corner to our valley, which looked like Ireland between the emerald green grass and the wet dew everywhere, and there was our house, serene, safe, and welcome. We were ecstatic.
The house was perfect: no damage. It survived 4 storms, 15+” of rain and floods without blinking an eye (if houses blinked). The cat was fine, a bit hungry, and happy to see us. The cisterns were full, and the freezers and fridge were humming right along. Starlink switched on.
The only obvious problem was that the driveway had washed out. Alan fixed that the next morning (At least temporarily).
So now starts the healing. The road is ruined and needs a complete rebuild. Can our under-financed county afford it? It (along with 17 other counties) has been declared a Federal Emergency Disaster, but will there be funds to fix it? Governor Lujan has requested $13.8 million, and our president has apparently approved it. I’ve spoken (or left messages) to our county commissioners, our state representatives, our Road Maintenance Supervisor, and even written a couple of letters, trying to be a bit of a squeaky wheel.
We’ve been offered Red Cross services, but we don’t need food or supplies: we’re quite prepared here to manage for weeks. At this point, we are able to drive one vehicle part way out, walk overland about a 1/2 mile to our other vehicle, then drive out, so we are not “trapped”. In that way, we are fortunate.
The oddest part of this whole saga, which takes us back to the title of this blog, is that sometimes you choose your adventure, and sometimes it chooses you. Alan and I are happy to be home and actually getting a kick out of having to hike in and out…. it gets our 10,000 steps in, at least. Adventure or disaster? It’s all in how you look at it.
“Even the good plans of wise wizards like Gandalf and of good friends like Elrond go astray sometimes when you are off on dangerous adventures over the edge of the Wild…” J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit
Happy Halloween everyone
(and happy 5th Anniversary of making our home here at 4Fords.)
