Family Traditions

My daughter took her inlaws to my parent's condo in Red River, NM this week. They are having such a great time, and her husband's aunt said to her, "Do you know how lucky you are to have gotten to come here all of your life!?"

I was reading an article in

backpacker that said we are now in the 2nd generation of "nature-deprived" people. It got me to thinking. We DO have a lot of kids/people who haven't experienced the joys of the out-of-doors, kids raised watching TV, playing video games, playing on ball teams but not camping, hiking, rafting, even just skipping rocks .

I have such wonderful memories of Red River. My parents both went to Red River as children and loved it. My dad talks about when he and my mom were first married, my mom worked at a bank, and each month, she took $5 out of their bank account, and $5 out of their best friends account, and every summer, they would go to Red River, stay in a small cabin on a lake, and have a blast! Can you imagine an entire week of vacation on $60? But they fished, and hiked, and cooked over the campfire, and...well there are a lot of stories of adventure, too!

As a kid, I loved Red River, too. I felt like Daniel Boone as I hiked through the forest alone behind our cabin. The cabin with the most memories was an old cabin up in the woods, with a true "icebox" (one where you have to have a block of ice to keep things cold) and only a wood-burning stove, and OUTHOUSE, for Pete's sake, and a swinging bed hung from the ceiling. One summer, my dad even talked the people in town into renting us a horse and they let us keep it for the entire week! WE fished, we hiked, we jeeped (in the same jeep that we still use today, a 1942 Willys jeep), and in general we had a wonderful adventure.

My kids, they love Red River, too. My son was even married there, in a beautiful outdoor ceremony, next to a creek with a mountain backdrop. We have made many backpacking trips, had rain inside the tent, been hailed on, been lost, been cold and wet--sounds like a lot of fun, doesn't it? But at least my kids will never say they have been "nature-deprived".

And now, a 4th generation is enjoying Red River. My mom learned to skate at the skating rink there, and so did I, and so did Lyndsey. Apparently, little ER tried out the skating rink and had a lot of fun, too, on that old wooden floor. And they jeeped to Goose Lake (one of Mimi's favorite trips) and saw big horn sheep. I looked at my daughter's itinerary, and it was very similar to one my mom would have put together for HER family...the same jeep trips, fishing trips, same places to eat...a true family tradition, these jaunts to Red River, New Mexico...a place where I can always go and feel that I am home. I am close to my mom there, her memory is still fresh and I can feel how much she loved that place.

Here are two of the grandkids in that old Willys jeep in Red River and a sleeping angel...he isn't in RR this time, but still worth posting because he WILL BE!

Bagged my first 14er!

The alarm rang a 3:15 AM--the alarm being Mr. Lynn, who set HIS alarm, so that he could call me and make sure that I was up. Since I am not the type to pack the night before, I had to hustle, as my friends, Mike and Jeanne, were picking me up at 4 AM. We wanted to be at the trailhead by 5:30. What does one take up to 14, 200 feet? Lots of water, I thought, some summer sausage and cheese, trailmix, raincoat, rain pants, ten essentials (this is 11 for me, because I have to have chapstick--did I need my wool sweather?) Throw it all in the backpack, take the camelback and the fanny pack--no need to decide right this minute which one to take.

Mike and Jeanne pulled up right on time, I hopped in the car (after a trip back to the house for my cap) and we were on the road, headed down I-70 just as the rain started. Jeanne was nervous, but I was filled with both excitment (my first 14er) and dread (I've seen those peaks, and I am pretty sure this will not be my favorite hike--I really hate stepping over boulders and rocks--give me lakes and streams and waterfalls any day!)


We met Andy, Mike and Jeanne's son, at the trailhead, and were out of the car, packed up (I opted for the fanny pack and the camelback--that way, if I got really tired I could leave one on the trail and still have water)and on the trailhead at 5:45 AM--not bad, but believe it or not, the upper parking lot was already full, and there were about 30 people starting about the time we did. Andy and Mike were off and running before I ever crossed the bridge, so if you want to know about their trip, you will have to get a report from them--we never saw Andy again, and Mike was waiting for us at the bottom.

Jeanne and I started up; I am a slow hiker, and Jeanne adjusted her pace to fit mine, I think; but we were pretty well matched. The first two miles rolled through a beautiful valley, but we started at 11,200 feet, so just at treeline. The valley was covered with scrubbrush--scrubbrush that I prayed for for hours after we left it--once you leave the scrubbrush on this trail, there is no bush for privacy for miles/hours.

We met some people coming down just as we started up--they had left the trailhead around 1:30 AM in order to catch the sunrise up on the peak--it was a full moon hike for them, although the moon was somewhat obscured by the clouds. Leaving in the middle of the night would NEVER have occured to me, but they seemed happy--probably because they were through with this hike...

Anyway, my biggest fears were confirmed about the 2.5 mile marker--a big boulder field. After a mile of that, the last mile was pure rockslide--the guidebook called it a talis, but it was just because that sounds slightly better than "ROCKS EVERYWHERE--and nothing else!" Also, the peaks (Grays and Torreys) loomed in front of us and were massive and pretty daunting. This was at about 13,000 feet. Jeanne and I were slow, but doing pretty good. No one past this point looked all that happy--except for the people going DOWN! Anyway, Jeanne and I saw two different groups of mountain goats (I was wishing to be a mountain goat on the way down...).

We arrived at the top (YEAH! I would have turned around at the rockslide, but Jeanne kept encouraging me, and we MADE IT!). We signed the logbook, took some pictures, ate some summer sausage and cheese, made some new friends. The view was SPECTACULAR!! It really is like you are standing at the top of the world!!



















The trip down was much more difficult, and you could really get a sense of how good you did--it was rocky, slick, and very steep. Plus, I really wanted to get to that scrubbrush...

It was 8 hours round trip...We made it though! I never have to do that again, thank goodness! Sunday, I am going to the farmers market and watching Wimbledon on TV--and not much else!!