After leaving the Mt. Withington area, I was feeling alive and spiritually motivated. I was really grubby and sweat-caked, too. Like a prospector who, in his quest for the nugget, mostly ends up scrabbling around in the dirt. Yes, the road less traveled sure got a lot of stones.
Fear not, for the trail from heavenly experience led me to earthly pleasures: a real bed and home cooked eats. As I descended into Socorro, the landscape went from high mountain forest to rolling dry scrub and rangeland. Then, to my delight, the green carpet of the Rio Grande River valley came into view. Call me geographically ig'nant, but I had no idea that this is what I would find in the center of New Mexico. Driving north on Hwy 25 to Albuquerque is a stunning display of contrasting natural formations. On one side is the river, sparking blue and bordering acres of agriculture and wildlife refuge backed up by distant mountains. On the other side of the crick are white swatches of desert rock, eroded and hewn by time, and supporting only the hardiest of drought-resistant foliage. I about injured my neck trying to take it all in.
My dad's aunt and uncle, Kim and Archie, live in Tijeras
and I had arranged to spend a few days with them. Tijeras is located right on the edge of the Cibola National Forest and is a rural retreat only twenty minutes east of Albuquerque. It was the perfect place for me to begin a retreat and recharge the D-cells. Archie took me on a hike through some of his property which covers more than ten acres of forest land. Archie is retired from his work with the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) during which time, from what I could gather, he surveyed and cruised timber on BLM lands. He's led a life of satisfying hard work in America's wildlands and he knows a few things about forest management. He's also a WWII vet and understands sacrifice. For these reasons I value and respect his views on land and development issues and I tried, in my quest to understand those issues, to learn from him.
As he explained, to make a forest both productive AND healthy, it must be managed closely to regulate and remove certain trees and undergrowth. Also, due excellent wildfire prevention and control systems in the U.S., prescribed burns are often needed to maintain healthy conditions in forests. Though these methods seem contradictory and unnatural to a layman like myself, fire and well-managed removal encourage tree growth. For wildlife, it can create habitat proliferation, abundant food sources and improved cover. It is quite a tricky balance that a forest manager must control. This does not change my opinion about the shifting role of the U.S. Forest Service, however.
One of the problems with agencies that control logging outputs like the Forest Service is that they have a tendency to "farm" the forest, planting only profitable trees and ignoring the proliferation of other "worthless" trees and foliage that serve to complete the ecology of the land. A rich biodiversity is necessary on all land, managed or wild, to maintain its health. Logging and environmental health can simultaneously occur, but a land ethic must be developed by the managing agency (public or private) to make sure that everything flourishes, not just the trees. Essential components of the earth's natural restorative cycle need to co-exist with consumptive ones. For example, swamps and bogs should be maintained because they are keystones in animal proliferation. Trees such as tamarack must be interspersed in some locations with the economically profitable varieties. Natural occurances like rotting deadfall and beaver dams must be maintained.
As Archie and I were out and about, Kim was at home, cooking up mad meals to thicken me up. Over the course of four days, she served me waffles, chicken, vegetable soup, berry pie and milkshakes, just to name a few of the highlights. I enjoy cooking in camp and I'm getting better at it, but that's like Little Boy D to her Goliath. We spent a lot of time talking about family (won't bore you with details) and I saw lots of pictures of my father when he was a little boy. I guess I'm just a chip off the old block. Archie can tell a mean story, too, and just says some funny shit.
On the third day I was there, I was getting ready to go for a mountain bike ride in Oetero Canyon and the El Cedro Open Space Area. I was tweaking the brakes and putting air in the tires and loading myself down with the tons of gear that goes along with the sport. I asked Archie, a sports fan and former football meathead, what he thought about all the equipment and commercialization involved in sports nowadays. He leaned back and said, "When I played football, they called you a sissy if you wore a facemask." Best answer possible.
The Oetero Canyon
ride, by the way, is excellent. El Cedro is about a 20-30 minute drive from downtown Albuquerque. In Tijeras, it's right out your back door. Mostly singletrack meanders through miles of dense U.S. forest land. I rode about 8 miles down to the Tunnel Canyon trailhead, had lunch (specially crafted by Kim) and rode 'er back home. The picture is taken looking up the canyon. Wanna feel my banana?
My riding has been improving by leaps and bounds. Most of it has to do with the fact that I've gotten into shape. I've traded a jelly roll for a six-pack, straight up. My average ride distance has gone from 7-8 miles to 15-20 and that's usually at elevations over 7,000 feet. Like I overheard this teenage kid say when I was at South Mountain Park in Phoenix, "Dude, I can feel my skills honing."
Between stuffing my pie hole with home cookin' and
bunnyhopping logs on the trail, I managed to find time to visit the University of New Mexico and do some open space preservation research. Albuquerque's development has been characterized by thinly spread expansion onto relatively inexpensive land. The growth has been "nodal" and in almost every direction there has come to be some sort of commercial or institutional hub of activity, connected to the others by many miles of arterial streets. Without exception, all these nodes were "leapfrog" developments. Land that potentially could have been set aside in between as open space using more condensed and planned development has been gobbled up by this inefficient outward expansion. State and local economic development policy-makers and planners, in Albuquerque and elsewhere, typically busy themselves in attracting jobs--any and all jobs--but often without long-range, comprehensive, economic development plans. Unfortunately, as growth concerns in our nation increase and calls for better urban planning intensify, there is little land left to preserve for most cities. Without the abundant Cibola National Forest lands east Albuquerque, people in the city would be hard pressed to find places to visit that are within 30 minutes. Much more information on Albuquerque's development can be found on the Issues page.
For a final local excursion, Archie and I drove up to the top of Sandia Crest, which is the highest point of a huge mountain cliff that stands ominously over Albuquerque to the northeast. We drove to the top, but another method exists to get there and it would make a great day trip. A tramway leaves from the city, hanging riders hundreds of feet above the ground as it travels to the top. Once there, a two mile hike along the cliff edge brings you to the Crest. I would definitely do it that way next time. There's always a next time, right. To see a photo of the two of us at the top, visit the Rig Riders page.
Leaving Tijeras and the hometown hospitality was difficult. Archie and Kim told me I could stay as long as I wanted and they almost got their wish. The path to my heart goes right through my stomach. Alas, the road awaited and I again longed to camp out under the stars, roam the trails, and begin fighting with the bugs again for sleeping bag space. Thank you Art and Kim!
Fear not, for the trail from heavenly experience led me to earthly pleasures: a real bed and home cooked eats. As I descended into Socorro, the landscape went from high mountain forest to rolling dry scrub and rangeland. Then, to my delight, the green carpet of the Rio Grande River valley came into view. Call me geographically ig'nant, but I had no idea that this is what I would find in the center of New Mexico. Driving north on Hwy 25 to Albuquerque is a stunning display of contrasting natural formations. On one side is the river, sparking blue and bordering acres of agriculture and wildlife refuge backed up by distant mountains. On the other side of the crick are white swatches of desert rock, eroded and hewn by time, and supporting only the hardiest of drought-resistant foliage. I about injured my neck trying to take it all in.
My dad's aunt and uncle, Kim and Archie, live in Tijeras
and I had arranged to spend a few days with them. Tijeras is located right on the edge of the Cibola National Forest and is a rural retreat only twenty minutes east of Albuquerque. It was the perfect place for me to begin a retreat and recharge the D-cells. Archie took me on a hike through some of his property which covers more than ten acres of forest land. Archie is retired from his work with the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) during which time, from what I could gather, he surveyed and cruised timber on BLM lands. He's led a life of satisfying hard work in America's wildlands and he knows a few things about forest management. He's also a WWII vet and understands sacrifice. For these reasons I value and respect his views on land and development issues and I tried, in my quest to understand those issues, to learn from him.As he explained, to make a forest both productive AND healthy, it must be managed closely to regulate and remove certain trees and undergrowth. Also, due excellent wildfire prevention and control systems in the U.S., prescribed burns are often needed to maintain healthy conditions in forests. Though these methods seem contradictory and unnatural to a layman like myself, fire and well-managed removal encourage tree growth. For wildlife, it can create habitat proliferation, abundant food sources and improved cover. It is quite a tricky balance that a forest manager must control. This does not change my opinion about the shifting role of the U.S. Forest Service, however.
One of the problems with agencies that control logging outputs like the Forest Service is that they have a tendency to "farm" the forest, planting only profitable trees and ignoring the proliferation of other "worthless" trees and foliage that serve to complete the ecology of the land. A rich biodiversity is necessary on all land, managed or wild, to maintain its health. Logging and environmental health can simultaneously occur, but a land ethic must be developed by the managing agency (public or private) to make sure that everything flourishes, not just the trees. Essential components of the earth's natural restorative cycle need to co-exist with consumptive ones. For example, swamps and bogs should be maintained because they are keystones in animal proliferation. Trees such as tamarack must be interspersed in some locations with the economically profitable varieties. Natural occurances like rotting deadfall and beaver dams must be maintained.
As Archie and I were out and about, Kim was at home, cooking up mad meals to thicken me up. Over the course of four days, she served me waffles, chicken, vegetable soup, berry pie and milkshakes, just to name a few of the highlights. I enjoy cooking in camp and I'm getting better at it, but that's like Little Boy D to her Goliath. We spent a lot of time talking about family (won't bore you with details) and I saw lots of pictures of my father when he was a little boy. I guess I'm just a chip off the old block. Archie can tell a mean story, too, and just says some funny shit.
On the third day I was there, I was getting ready to go for a mountain bike ride in Oetero Canyon and the El Cedro Open Space Area. I was tweaking the brakes and putting air in the tires and loading myself down with the tons of gear that goes along with the sport. I asked Archie, a sports fan and former football meathead, what he thought about all the equipment and commercialization involved in sports nowadays. He leaned back and said, "When I played football, they called you a sissy if you wore a facemask." Best answer possible.
The Oetero Canyon
ride, by the way, is excellent. El Cedro is about a 20-30 minute drive from downtown Albuquerque. In Tijeras, it's right out your back door. Mostly singletrack meanders through miles of dense U.S. forest land. I rode about 8 miles down to the Tunnel Canyon trailhead, had lunch (specially crafted by Kim) and rode 'er back home. The picture is taken looking up the canyon. Wanna feel my banana?My riding has been improving by leaps and bounds. Most of it has to do with the fact that I've gotten into shape. I've traded a jelly roll for a six-pack, straight up. My average ride distance has gone from 7-8 miles to 15-20 and that's usually at elevations over 7,000 feet. Like I overheard this teenage kid say when I was at South Mountain Park in Phoenix, "Dude, I can feel my skills honing."
Between stuffing my pie hole with home cookin' and
bunnyhopping logs on the trail, I managed to find time to visit the University of New Mexico and do some open space preservation research. Albuquerque's development has been characterized by thinly spread expansion onto relatively inexpensive land. The growth has been "nodal" and in almost every direction there has come to be some sort of commercial or institutional hub of activity, connected to the others by many miles of arterial streets. Without exception, all these nodes were "leapfrog" developments. Land that potentially could have been set aside in between as open space using more condensed and planned development has been gobbled up by this inefficient outward expansion. State and local economic development policy-makers and planners, in Albuquerque and elsewhere, typically busy themselves in attracting jobs--any and all jobs--but often without long-range, comprehensive, economic development plans. Unfortunately, as growth concerns in our nation increase and calls for better urban planning intensify, there is little land left to preserve for most cities. Without the abundant Cibola National Forest lands east Albuquerque, people in the city would be hard pressed to find places to visit that are within 30 minutes. Much more information on Albuquerque's development can be found on the Issues page.For a final local excursion, Archie and I drove up to the top of Sandia Crest, which is the highest point of a huge mountain cliff that stands ominously over Albuquerque to the northeast. We drove to the top, but another method exists to get there and it would make a great day trip. A tramway leaves from the city, hanging riders hundreds of feet above the ground as it travels to the top. Once there, a two mile hike along the cliff edge brings you to the Crest. I would definitely do it that way next time. There's always a next time, right. To see a photo of the two of us at the top, visit the Rig Riders page.
Leaving Tijeras and the hometown hospitality was difficult. Archie and Kim told me I could stay as long as I wanted and they almost got their wish. The path to my heart goes right through my stomach. Alas, the road awaited and I again longed to camp out under the stars, roam the trails, and begin fighting with the bugs again for sleeping bag space. Thank you Art and Kim!
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