Right Now, This Is Life

A glimpse into what my life looks like on the road (taken from a journal entry I wrote in New Mexico)…

“I’m cozied up in the bed of my truck, reveling in the way the tailgate perfectly frames the rugged landscape. I watch as the sun slowly fades into darkness and the New Mexico Mountains melt into the sky. As the sun sinks, the sky is washed with deep, contrasting red, purple and orange hues. Colors so rich I question whether I knew they could exist. It’s the kind of beauty you long to capture in a painting, yet you know that even the most skilled artist could never render its richness. Photographs do it no justice. The sun setting into the mountains is a welcomed reprieve after two nights of rain. The first night the rain was just a constant drizzle, but last night the rain came down with force for hours. The wind whipped my tarp relentlessly until it caved. I could feel my truck swaying while I momentarily entertained the question, “Am I in a flood zone?” Rain in the desert is a ruthless force.

I originally drove north, through the mountains and the Lincoln National Forest, in hopes of finding a place to camp. It turned out that all the campsites were closed, but it was to my good fortune. I ended up getting rain instead of snow, as I ended up at the base of the mountains instead of at the top. Since the other campsites were closed, I just decided to drive to the one I had a reservation for the following night. Though the route I took was out of the way and I struck out on campsites, I stayed just in front of the rain and it was a breathtaking drive through the mountains. I honestly didn’t even know New Mexico was comprised of the landscapes I saw. I would really like to go back when it’s warmer so I can camp and hike in the beautiful places I passed through. It was when I stopped driving that the rain caught up with me and then stuck with me for days. When the fog finally lifted the morning of my third day there, in the distance, I could see the snow crested peak near Cloudcroft 6,000 ft above me. It was then that I realized I had driven through that area while looking for a campsite. In fact, because it was dark when I arrived at my site and there was so much fog/cloud cover the following day, I never noticed how close the mountains that surrounded my campsite were until the third day!

When it’s too cold or rainy to explore, I do laundry, reorganize, write postcards, trip plan, brush up on personal hygiene, etc. It’s kind of nice to have a forced reprieve and not feel like I should be exploring instead, but I have found that I enjoy warmer weather far more than cold weather. It makes cooking, getting dressed, having wet hair and sleeping in nature much easier. When it’s rainy and cold, less people are out and moving about the campsite. So, its more likely I feel a tinge of isolation or loneliness. However, cold or hot, I’m still grateful for the opportunity and experiences I am having.

Just as the sunset was timely, so was good company. A couple of canyoneering ladies I met and had dinner with in Big Bend showed up at the campground I was staying in. I happened to see them pull in and they couldn’t find a site, so they shared mine. We ended up caravanning to White Sands National Monument and hiking several miles together. I kept going when they stopped for a lunch break and made another friend on the second half of the 5-mile loop. He was walking his dog, so naturally I stopped to pet the dog. We started chatting and ended up grabbing food that evening. It seems like with every place I visit, I realize how much more I have to see and learn. But, with every person I meet, I experience how small this big world is.”