Hiking the Rio Grande

Start of the Hike
The trail near Tingley Beach where The Dog and I started our hike.

I woke up this morning looking forward to the block of time scheduled on my calendar from 7:00 AM to 9:00 AM. I know, who the heck looks forward to anything at seven in the morning on a Saturday? Most people are still asleep or just waking up to their first cup of coffee around that time on a Saturday morning. I, on the other hand, had made sure I had dedicated time to pack up the dog and a small backpack early enough to beat the crowds on the trails skirting the east side of the Rio Grande.

These excursions into the Bosque are my escape from the riggers of day-to-day life. Limited technology, only the faintest sound of traffic in the distance, and quiet head space to explore those thoughts normally suppressed by the rush of daily existence. It is a peaceful place to find yourself in on a Saturday morning. I don’t take this time nearly enough.

The Dog was less than impressed with the early start to the day. She doesn’t get out enough to understand events like this should be a regular aspect of her life. However, she sat quietly as I put her vest, collar, and nose-guide on in preparation for our excursion. Obediently, she hopped in the front passenger seat of the car and began to shake. It was chilly this morning, but her shaking was simply from being put in the car (an experience she still isn’t fond of).

We drove the one mile distance in just a few minutes. Passing downtown’s multi-story buildings, the outskirts of the zoo, and the older parts of the Barelas Neighborhood. It was quiet and almost no traffic. The perfect start to the day.

We unloaded at Tingley Beach and headed off into the wild. It sounds childish, but despite the number of times I have hiked these trails, I still feel like an explorer far from civilization discovering new places in the world. It’s a freeing feeling to think that so few people (statistically speaking) have walked the same trails I have walked. The Dog led the way with enthusiasm as she smelled the scents of a hundred dogs who came before her, trying to cover all of them as quickly as possible – suffice to say, she failed.

 

With a brisk breeze and a rising sun, we headed north along the well-worn trails between the Rio Grande and The Paseo Del Bosque Trail. The cottonwood trees swayed back and forth, the river flowed just beyond the trees, and we hiked our way through a corridor used throughout history. It was very calming, almost meditative, as we passed the river viewing area just south of Central Avenue.

The quiet and centering feeling continued through our turnaround point at Interstate 40. It was only after we took a break, about a quarter of a mile south of the Interstate, on our way back to where we parked the car that we started to see more foot traffic. For the most part, the other trail users were polite and courteous – making sure their dogs were properly handled, moving to the side to allow us both to pass each other, and taking care to not overly disturb the surrounding vegetation off trail. However, it is important to note that many of the dog owners do not keep their dogs on leashes unless they see someone else on the trail. This can cause a canine confrontation calamity if you’re not paying attention.

Throughout the return trip, The Dog and I got to listen to the river, a wily woodpecker trying to force its way through a Cottonwood, and (presumably) the mating calls of geese and ducks. It was all very grounding for me personally and helps me appreciate the world we live in just a little bit more than I do on a daily basis. This is an experience people of all ages can enjoy.

All in all, The Dog and I walked a little over 5 miles at a leisurely pace in about 2 hours. I highly recommend that everyone takes some time to disconnect from the modern world and return to the nearly raw nature of a hiking area – even if the trails are improved and you’re not breaking brush to get where you’re going. I know I will be making sure to regularly block out time on my calendar (and in my head) to hike the trails in and around Albuquerque.

Where do you like to hike? What benefits do you get out of a quiet walk through nature? Do you take your dog(s) with you or prefer the company of bipeds? Tell us all about it in the comment section – don’t forget to like, follow, and share this post on your favorite social media site!

Advertisements
Rinconada Canyon's end

A Spur of the Moment Walk Through History…

I have lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico for the past 6 years – having returned to the Land of Enchantment after a 12 year hiatus – and have been doing a disservice to myself ever since. On only a handful of occasions, I have packed a backpack and laced up the hiking boots to tackle an easy to intermediate trail within 20 miles of the city. Most of my focus has been the Embudo Trail in Cibola National Forest along the westside of the Sandia Mountains which act as the eastern border of Albuquerque. The trail connects with a system of trails that lead to the Crest (one of my goals this year) and is challenging while providing beautiful panoramic views of the city.

However, on the opposite side of the city is the smaller (but not small) Petroglyph National Monument. When people think of the West Side of Albuquerque, they immediately conjure images of cookie-cutter sub-divisions, new construction, and wide open expanses of desert. Many of us who live on the east side of the river (you know, real Albuquerque) do our best to not make the journey to the West Side without good reason. Well, I found out today that Petroglyph National Monument is a damn good reason!

I was out doing a favor for a friend who lives on the West Side and decided to stop in at one of the shorter trails known as Rinconada Canyon. This is a short 2.2 mile loop which features over 300 petroglyphs ranging in age from 3,000 to 300 years old. The canyon is quiet despite having higher than I normally enjoy foot traffic. On a cool winter day like today, the wind howls through the canyon, smacking you in the face as you venture in and propelling you out at the halfway point.

There are educational placards dotting the first half of the trail, but you don’t need these to understand the historical significance of this imagery. Whether it was the ancient Pueblo people marking trade routes or Spaniards documenting their presence in the canyon with their sheep, the fact that these images still exist today is awe inspiring. We now live in a world of digital imprints and documentation – however, the nature of this digital storage is that it will decay much faster than a stone or piece of wood thus being lost forever. In 100 years, this blog will likely have left no permanent impact; it will be a blink in the history of mankind and forgotten without prejudice.

If you find yourself in Albuquerque, on the West Side of the river, plug Rinconda Canyon into your phone’s navigation app and take a break from the modern world. Take your time on the trail and think about the lives that the people who left their mark on the landscape led. Can we, despite our technology and modern conveniences, learn anything from these people? Will you make such an impact on the world?

Where have you been recently that made you stop and wonder about the world we live in today? Share your experiences in the comments!