The early morning sun cast long shadows, the sky was wraparound cloudless bluebird blue and temperatures hung below freezing as I set out recently on a little walk in search of a dragonfly petroglyph.
I soon warmed up walking the well marked (for the most part) trail which shows sign of heavy use from horses, bicycles, humans and dogs.
Patchy snow from last week’s light snowfall still lay around in the shadows across the landscape telling me where north lay, just in case I wanted to know.
The frozen snow is testament to how cold daily temperatures have been recently. Will someone please tell the polar bears they can have their cold air vortex back now?
There were signs alongside the trail of recent light harvesting of the Chauhauan desert nativeYucca elata (soap tree yucca) whose fibres can be used for weaving. This trail is within the Gila National Forest. The harvester, who obviously knows what they are doing, most likely has a harvesting permit from the US Forest Service who administer the preservation and use of these kinds of natural resources on public lands. More information on harvesting permits here or at your local Forest Service office. This specific yucca isn’t officially endangered yet but is a dwindling species.
As the trail dropped slightly down into a small kloof (valley) there were a few patches of crunchy, squeaky snow still covering the path which also became a little rocky. It was still very easy for this not very nimble old goat to navigate.
After about an hour of walking, the first signs of petroglyphs appeared.
It was a bit of a scramble, slightly off the path and around some tumbled piles of rocks to find these ones. I was mindful, protective of ankles on the uneven surfaces (I’m no climber) grateful for my walking stick which helps stabilize on rough ground. There was no cell signal at this site. Patches of frozen snow lent a slipperiness at times.
From the lichen encroachment I would say this fellow has been around a while. The excellent information kiosk at the trailhead dates the Mimbres Valley petroglyphs to CE 200-1300.
Nearby a few fading circles clearly show the pecking technique used to make the petroglyphs.
I almost missed the whole object of the expedition.
Though it was probably still below freezing, the bright early morning sun cast deep shadows hiding the prize.
The dragonfly! There it was. Etched in stone.
The trail to this beautiful and ancient rock art site is a loop with the petroglyphs at roughly the two mile or midpoint. I wandered, savoring the experience, going slowly, and sometimes taking pictures. I was on the trail for around two and a half hours. I had read the trail is around four miles. Others might set a brisker pace, do it faster.
The beautifully kept trailhead parking lot, besides having excellent well maintained toilets, displays maps on a noticeboard if you hadn’t already downloaded one from the forest service website as I had.
There are also several very good, if slightly sunfaded, informational displays.
Print addicted me loves to read all about everything and anything.
Thank you, USFS for fulfilling your educational function. Thank you, other trail users, for keeping this trail so well. I encountered absolutely no litter or signs of abuse only respectful use. For what is identified as a heavy use trail very close to an urban area (the liberal artsy college town of Silver City, New Mexico) it was really lovely to find so much evidence of care and respect.
I picked up a treat of a vegan tempeh reuben sandwich from the Silver City food coop to fortify me for the return journey over Emory Pass in the big pile of tree covered rocks called the Black Range (Sierra Diablo) where a chubby, boxy bobcat, that fluffy lovechild of cat and teddy bear, bounced across the snow.
I was back in my hometown early enough to treat my walking weary muscles to a private soak at one of the more luxurious bathhouses. I picked an old favorite, the Cedar pool at The Hoosier, which, under new ownership, has pivoted to wealthy tourist market, and thus sadly priced itself out of my impecunious local ability to frequent it much.
Along with the tripled prices, one now gets gold flecked decorative touches and potted cabbages.
What do you mean that marvel of bioengineering wasn’t a poolside snack?
Recommended Reading:
The Light Eaters by Zoë Schlanger. 2024. An environmental journalist goes down the rabbit hole of plant intelligence. This is not a sequel to The Secret Life of Plants (Thompson and Bird, 1973). Or maybe it is, just better written and better researched. Read it and be enchanted.
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