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Day 2

Studying the map the previous day, we concluded that we should alter our course and head up the river avoiding gaining anymore elevation. The idea sounded great and the first mile confirmed our hypothesis. And then we reached the first river crossing. It’s one thing to cross a stream in without a backpack. Strapping 35+ lbs to your back and it’s little surprise that 8 straight river crossings slowed up the trip.

Flight of fancy

Spotting a nice campsite, the decision was made to make camp here and launch an early afternoon dayhike. Optimism swell, and we firmly believed that the 5000 feet of elevation gain to Mongollon Baldy was within reach. Prepared to hike back in the dark if need be, we started out with water, snacks, and a flashlight. 6 more river crossings and more ambiguous trail markers lead us to a “wilder” section of the river. Scrambling over and under the rocky riverbed, we were having a glorious time, despite our “lostness”. Soon the river narrowed, the rocks grew to boulders, and all signs of the trail had been lost.

So where’s the trail, again?

Seeing a steep washout on the eastern side of the river, we decided to climb up to get a better look. Eventually, our adventurousness lead to idea that we could actually summit the mountain. In our earnest, we never considered the chance of loose rocks further ahead. About half-way up, I took a gamble on climbing up a steeper route. Within 10 minutes, the ground below me suddenly began to give way. Scrapping for anything to secure a good hold, I found a rock just as my feet slide out from underneath me. A large rock rolled over my exposed big toe (one of the rare moments I wished I wasn’t wearing Chaco sandals). Light rain started dusting the valley and clasps of thunder were within earshot. It was time to come down. Not wanting to give up on climbing this without a single good picture, I gingerly slipped though several thorny bushes, stepping into a clearing. Beautiful

What’s a trip without an infamous “foot-foto”

The climb down was worse than the climb up. Several moments I held threw myself at the mercy of the mountain after a couple poor steps caused mini-rock avalanches. But as you would expect, Jeremy and I made it down without injury. I immediately found the largest boulder and gave it a big hug as a sign of my thankfulness to be back on solid ground. The walk back to camp was relatively uneventful, and we enjoyed a good night’s rest.

Day 3

Not wanting to push much farther with packs, we decided to return to the previous night’s campsite. Arriving around lunchtime, we unpacked and took to reading along the riverbank for the afternoon. The beauty of the area induces worship and gladness that God in all His majesty still desires to meet me. The night was equally relaxing.

Peace like a river attendeth my way

Day 4

With only a half day of hiking between car and campsite, we were on the trail by 7:30AM. The beginning of the day would be the most difficult, climbing 1200 feet in 2 miles. Keeping a slow even pace, the burning sensation in our calves finally subsided as the elevation flatten out. Proud to be moving so quickly, we kept pushing past the places that the trail once seemed unclear. Soon we were spotting the same mountains we had seen three days earlier. The difference was that today the clouds lingered overhead.

Day 4, Cloudy

And my preference - Sunny

The final 2 miles were uphill back to the trailhead and I decided to increase the pace from a leisurely stroll to a brisk walk. I had finally reached that “hiking groove” where miles peel off by the minute. When we reached the car, Jeremy asked why I had quickened the pace. It was only then I think I fully realized how heavy his pack had been. Considering he had been carrying ~15-20 more lbs than I had been, it was amazing that we had ever gone as far as we did. Thanks Jeremy for reminding me it’s not always about the hiking. Instead it’s about friendship, time shared together, and the encouragement that comes through godly fellowship. For that, I am most thankful.

The 900-mile drive

Leaving from College Station, the first few hours went quickly and it wasn’t too long before we had reached Sonora. Still less than half way to the Gilas, we kept trucking along I-10, passing windmills, dust storms, and a strange SPQR car.

Obviously, Senātus Populusque Rōmānus, but why 15?

Eventually we reached El Paso, and we ate at Rudy’s BBQ. FYI, this Rudy’s had a gas station with very reasonable prices! An oasis, to say the least. Still we knew that knew New Mexico would be slow going. At the border, a signed warned of our entrance into a “safety corridor” with double fines for speeding. Completely baffled at it’s meaning, we excused it - after all, this is New Mexico - the 3rd most dangerous state. The signage continued warning of drinking & driving, dust storms, driving without a seatbelt, and I’m sure there was a sign demonstrating how to hold the steering wheel properly at “10 & 2″ that we missed.

Nevertheless, we trudged on further in New Mexico, very pessimistic that a hill, much less a mountain range, existed. Actually, we passed several ghost towns and wondering how anything/anyone could live out hear. Land of Shatment seemed more accurate. Suddenly, mountains towered out from ground, and similarly our attitude grew taller. As the sun set, Jeremy’s Volkswagen approached the road leading to the trailhead, and it wasn’t long before we setup camp in anticipation of the journey.

Rain Creek Trailhead

Day 1

As morning broke, Jeremy and I woke early to load our gear before saying goodbye to civilization. With a little uncertainty as to location of the trailhead, we were soon hiking down the Rain Creek Trail. This momentary confusion was foreshadowing. Once hiking, the weather so pleasant and the mountains so majestic that it caused us to forget the hefty backpacks slung across our backs.

Desert meets forest

Eventually, the irony of walking downhill and moving closer to mountain peaks corrected itself as the trail sharply climbed out of the creek. Now, gravity started bearing down on those once-feather-weight backpacks. Jeremy was carrying an especially heavy pack, making the 1000+ foot elevation gain even more difficult. Not to be deterred we reached a lookout point and feasted on the panoramic vistas.

Is this really New Mexico?!

Eventually, the trail meandered through yet another ecosystem and lead us past an abandoned horse stable. Within 200 yards, the trail became unclear. Checking our position against the GPS revealed that we somehow had gone off the trail 0.2 miles back. Logic concluded that we had followed a spur trail to the horse stable. So we tried bushwhacking back to the trail and had no success. Frustrated, we ate lunch in hope that time would help sort out the confusion. Backtracking our steps we eventually found the trail and discovered an inaccuracy with the GPS map (In my defense, I was merely using the vector data provided by the US Forestry website).

Day 1 looking South from our campsite to the trailhead

Clearly, the first day was off to a rough start, but with most of the uphill behind us, it seemed the worst was behind us. And then we started downhill. Descending the 1000+ feet from the morning proved to be more tedious than originally thought, mostly due to lack of footing. At 2pm, we reached Mongollon Creek to filter water. A few minutes later we both agreed to call it a day and hope for better luck the next day. The afternoon was spent reading by the river’s side. Despite being several miles from our original destination, we declared victory. The day ended with good conversation over an open campfire.

The simple life

It wouldn’t be a trip without a foot shot