Goin' Solo Continued

This post is a continuation of a previous post entitled "Goin' Solo", where I wrote about a solo camping/hiking/backpacking trip I took from Long Beach, CA to Santa Fe, NM back in 1996.

After my backpacking experience in the Pecos National Forest alone, I did stick to either campgrounds or places that had some people nearby. After reading my previous post, it did seem like I was a bit overly concerned with mountain lions, particularly since it wasn't like I'd seen one. So I must follow up and tell you that I had talked with some backpackers in the morning just as I was heading back down the mountain who said they'd seen large claw marks in a tree and thought that they belonged to a mountain lion. So, as if I wasn't scared enough, I had that in my mind as I hiked all the way back down.

That evening I spent the night in a motel in Albuquerque, where I had a dead bolt and was able to relax and feel secure again. A nice, hot shower does wonders for the soul too. The next day I went to the historic Old Town of Albuquerque where I'd been a few times before in my life. I love walking the town and shopping in the stores that are filled with American Indian and Mexican art and other great items. I usually shop for things to decorate my house with, so that when I'm home, I still have something that reminds me of being in New Mexico.

In one of the Mexican folk art shops, I'd met the nicest woman that worked there named Lita, who couldn't have been more concerned that I was traveling alone! We talked for quite a while, and she told me some great stories about her family and life in Albuquerque, where she'd always lived. She told me that she'd always wanted to write a book that was filled with these family stories. She told me how her family used to visit the ice caves not too far from Albuquerque in Grants. She is probably one of the warmest people I ever met. When I left, she wished me well and told me to be careful. I was actually feeling sad to leave. When I visit New Mexico, I usually go to Santa Fe, but I was glad I stopped in Albuquerque this time...It was one of my favorite visits there. I managed to get back to the shop one more time on a trip I took with my mom the following year (we flew), and as luck would have it, Lita was there and she remembered me.

After I left the shop, I continued my journey back towards home. I tried to visit the ice caves that Lita had told me about. The signs on the freeway said to exit for the ice caves, but once I did, I couldn't figure out where to go, so I gave up looking. I went on my way to Canyon de Chelly in Arizona. I got there with plenty of daylight left and started touring around the South Rim of the canyon, taking in the views, which were absolutely spectacular. Despite the beauty, I felt incredibly lonely and a bit sad at that point. I just wasn't enjoying myself anymore and decided that I'd rather save Canyon de Chelly for another time and come back with someone special. I drove back to the ranger station so that I could call a friend who was going to meet me in Las Vegas (the last stop of my trip) a couple days from then. While I was on the phone, a girl next to me, also on the phone, was excitedly talking about a trip she'd taken at a "river". When I got off the phone, I could hear her tell the person she was talking to that she had to go, and she followed me to my car. I recall her telling me that there was a rodeo in town. I was planning on continuing to Sedona, Arizona and told her that I was leaving, when it dawned on me that she and I were the only people in the parking lot. I asked her if she was alone too, and she said yes. I couldn't have been more happy to find a fellow solo-er! I was hoping I'd find other solo-ers on my trip and she was it! She had just come from a trip with friends on the San Juan River (an arm of Lake Powell in Utah where I'd been the year before), and decided to continue a trip by herself. She was 34, ten years older than me, and a really interesting and spiritual person. We had a blast at the Navajo rodeo that we ended up going to that night. Afterward, we camped out together at the Canyon de Chelly campgrounds. She had some amazing stories from her trip on the San Juan, and she talked a lot about her spiritual beliefs (which were on the metaphysical side). Meeting her was exactly what I needed to keep my spirits up for the remainder of my trip. When I thought that I could not stand one more day alone, there she was, and she ended up being someone that I really connected with also. All I could think of was, 'What if I hadn't turned the car around to go back to the ranger station? I never would have met her.

In the morning, we went our separate ways, me to Sedona and her looking forward to a solo trip around the Southwest. When I got to Sedona, I relaxed by a cool, little creek for a couple hours, which unfortunately was pretty populated with other vacationers. Nonetheless, Sedona ended up being a very grounding place for me, and I camped out just off a road that went up the side of one of the steep hills there. I think the road was used for those pink jeep tours. I had been to that particular spot in Sedona the year before with friends, and miraculously found my way back to that same great spot that wasn't a crowded campground, yet wasn't deserted either. I camped out under the stars on the amazingly, red earth (no tent) and spent the entire evening writing the story of my trip in my journal by candlelight. It was probably the most peaceful and spiritual part of my trip. There's such a strong energy in Sedona; it's hard to describe in words. The views are absolutely breathtaking and sometimes when I need to bring peace to my life now, I close my eyes and picture myself there, camped out on the mountainside running the red, red earth through my fingers.

I continued on to Las Vegas the following morning, but not before I soaked up my surroundings there in Sedona and watched a family of quail walk by my sleeping bag. I felt happy.

Las Vegas was Las Vegas...A lot of interesting people-watching, and a little drinking and gambling. I had a room at Treasure Island Casino and met a friend there for some drinks, a little slot playing, and a lot of laughing.

I was happy to be home the next day and to see my cats! Needless to say, I was really tired of driving and it sure was nice to get back to the cool ocean breezes of Long Beach. I had a great adventure to look back on and was so glad that I did it alone.

Beautiful adobe in Santa Fe

Goin' Solo

In the summer of 1996, I decided to take a 10-day solo camping trip from Long Beach, California to Santa Fe, New Mexico, a place I love and have visited many times. I drove the entire distance and stopped off along the way to see the Grand Canyon, which I had not visited since a camping trip I'd taken with my parents as a little girl. I believe it was that first trip to the Grand Canyon, a trip that also included Zion and Bryce Canyons, that planted the seed for my love of the outdoors as well as my longing to be in the Southwest.

This trip was a major adventure for me, and I'd spent quite a while researching where I was going to go and quizzing other people online who'd done a solo trip of their own. Being that I'm a female and that it's probably a little more unusual for a female to do this kind of trip alone, I only cared about the experiences of other female solo-ers and was a little discouraged to find that there weren't many, and the ones that did go alone had a dog with them. I only had my trusty, little red Honda CRX, a pocket knife (complete with corkscrew and other gadgets), and a cell phone to give me a sense of security. I had taken two intense outdoor courses in college at Long Beach State. One of the courses had us on a 2-week long excursion at Lake Powell, Utah (with no amenities whatsoever). It was a true roughing it experience with 30 other really cool people who also loved the outdoors. We learned how to read maps and use a compass. This course also required that we spend one night completely alone in the wilderness. We learned what it took to survive in the elements. I also had the best in camping equipment for that time and also knew parts of where I was going to be, so I felt confident that I was ready to do it alone!

With all that preparation, a bit of bravery, and prior backpacking/camping experience, I'd still managed to scare myself silly a few times. The most notable and probably foolish was the day, about mid-trip, that I'd decided to do some backpacking in an area I'd never been before. It was the Pecos National Forest near Santa Fe. I'd already started out too late, and to compound that, I had a hard time finding the spot, and I took forever to arrange my backpack to fit everything I needed since I wasn't used to having to carry all the supplies alone. After about a mile on an uphill trail, I passed a hiker coming down the mountain. Even today, I distinctly remember the look of concern on his face as I hiked in and he warned me that the next two miles were very steep. He was the last person I saw for the next 4 miles or so. My shoulders were killing me already, and I had to stop several times to rest the pack on whatever I could find without taking it off. I was probably about 3 miles in when I started to panic as the sun slowly started to inch its way down on the horizon and the map I had wasn't completely accurate. If it hadn't been for the fact that I was walking near a stream most of the time to help me keep my bearing, I would have been completely lost. I finally happened upon other backpackers who'd taken the only available flat ground to pitch a tent within miles. Rats! My destination was Stewart Lake, and whenever it looked like I was coming to a clearing and I hoped that I'd made it to the lake, but it took many more clearings before I finally did...And not before having to traverse very slick rocks to get across a fast-moving stream. Not that I would have been washed away, but it would have really sucked to have gotten wet when it was going to be a very cold night!

When I finally reached the lake, there was only a little bit of daylight left and there was a sign that said not to camp in the lake basin. I walked as far as I could from the lake on the only flat ground within miles, which ended up being in a field of a bunch of weird low-growing plants that I had thought was grass from afar. I don't know if I was in violation of anything but desperate times called for desperate measures! I was so frightened of the possibility of mountain lions or whatever else, I just threw my food up on the highest tree branch that I could manage and pitched the tent in what I believe must have been a world record-breaking time. My dinner consisted of a Powerbar and water. Even if I'd had the guts to actually start cooking in the complete darkness by myself, there would have been no flat ground free of plant life that I could have started the stove. I was in the tent immediately and scared shitless, listening to every scratch on the tent. Not to mention it was very cold and a bit windy.

I was so relieved when it was morning and nothing had attacked me! I sat by the lake for about 10 minutes to observe the beauty and to make myself feel like all that hiking wasn't in complete vane. The truth was that I couldn't wait to get out of there. I believe that it's important to always follow your gut. I retrieved my food from the tree, took a "bathroom" break, packed the tent and quickly made my way back down the mountain. All the way down, I kept having visions of being ambushed from above by a mountain lion. I think I set a personal record on miles covered with a 50 pound pack on my back. I don't think I'd ever been happier to see my little red CRX when I'd finally reached the bottom of the trail. The funny thing is that my inspiration for doing the backpacking part of the trip had been my best friend who said she'd done a couple of short trips alone in the wilderness; I thought she was so brave. Just 6 months ago I come to find out that she was scared half out of her mind too!

Needless to say, I stuck to the campgrounds after that. I'd seen some beautiful scenery in Abiquiu, Bandelier, and the Pecos National Forest in New Mexico. The whole trip had been a very soul-searching, spiritual experience for me, and obviously if I'm writing about it now, it had a powerful impact on my life. I remember being surprised, as a person who was an only child, a bit of an introvert, and who lived alone for several years and liked it, how lonely I did get out there, even on the first night. I called my good friend several times on that trip and even took a couple nights in a motel in Albuquerque so that I'd have a phone, a TV, a fresh shower, and some people to talk to at the nearby restaurant. I remember how people would look at me in the campgrounds...like "is that girl alone?" It was kind of strange, and yet at the same time, I felt strong.

I definitely felt guided by a higher power; maybe it was God, maybe it was an inner voice, I'm not sure. There were also times on this trip when I was completely alone, like during a hike when there was no one else around on the trail, that I had felt the most watched. I felt a definite presence. It's hard to put into words, but I had a very strong sense of an energy around me, watching me. Sometimes I like to think that it was the spirits of the ancient ones that used to live on the land. I've felt this at other times, outside of this trip, but it was coming through much more strongly at that time.

Well, I will end this posting for now...to be continued...