Just Des(s)erts

I was born a New England girl, but my heart is in the Pacific Northwest. I’ll take the redwood forests of California and the bluffs of the Oregon coast over anywhere, any day of the year.

So when I got a call for a job in New Mexico, I wasn’t terribly excited. About a decade ago, I spent a good amount of time in Albuquerque, NM working. Three films total, about a year of my adult life. From what I knew of it, it wouldn’t be much fun for Tucker. Desert sands, dangerous wildlife and fauna, and so hot you don’t realize you’re dehydrated until you pass out.

But this wasn’t in Albuquerque; it was Santa Fe, a town I’ve spent a total of about four hours in, in my entire life. It is supposedly a very dog friendly town, and although a desert, I was hoping it offered better opportunities for hiking. It is closer to Colorado, so with only a short drive, I could get to the beginnings of the Rocky Mountains.

I hadn’t worked since Christmas, so I couldn’t be too choosy about location. Four days after the accepting offer, Tucker and I hit the road.

As a clean-up job (taking over for someone who was not doing the job well) that was already in production, Tucker and I were in the office ten days (and ten nights) straight. Luckily there was already a chair in the office, so Tucker spent most of those first 10 days like this:

Which, lets face it, clearly expresses my own feelings as well. But the work I did now would lead to shorter days and more relaxing times later. He would have to deal. At least the boys in the office adore him and come to play tug with him as often as they think our boss will allow.  Late at night, I lock our trailer door (my office is in an old 1970’s-esque schoolroom trailer in a parking lot), open up the gate to my office, and let him tear around the office, playing chase and catch.

But the joy of a hike is far exceeds that of a midnight romp.

Easter weekend I chose the easiest hike I could find. The Dorothy Stewart Trail was described as a pleasant way to get acclimated to the elevation. Not only are we in the desert, but the high desert where the air isn’t quite as oxygen-rich. Then again, I just spent three months is the San Fernando Valley—low elevation, but I imagine the smog reduces the amount of O2 in the atmosphere just a smidge.

The trail is easy to find, and it reminded me of Stough Canyon and other hikes found in the Verdugo Mountains in Burbank: just park on the side of the road and walk into the wilderness.
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The map was quite clear (a welcome change from many trails), and then we stepped beyond the sign and out of civlization. 

I am always concerned when I don’t see a lot of shade, as is what happened on Tucker's and my trek through Malibu a few months back. But the pinion pines offer shade here and there, and although the sun was bright, it was not hot. It felt like a cool 70 degrees—perfect hiking weather.
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Tucker led the way, and I kept my eye out for dangers.

​The occasional cactus was the only thing that could harm him. 

​As I said, I am a Pacific Northwest girl at heart, but this sort little jaunt showed me what others saw in the desert. The vibrancy of colors was surprising to find. Mother Nature laid out a palette of pastels and a variety of textures in stone and plants. She painted dazzling effects and intricate designs on the dry earth she used as her canvas.

The sky was a deep, rich blue. 

Off in the distant, snow still capped the mountains.

​I don’t understand how flowering plants survive up here, let alone bloom and blossom and thrive. But alas, they do. 

Santa Fe is filled with art galleries. There is something very distinct about the art that is created here. You needn’t wonder what the inspiration is once you head up to the mountains.

​From up high, you look out to see green and life; not brown sands.

At your feet and all around you, you see the details of textures and colors that are reflected in the art that the people create.

While I appreciated the visuals and philosophical implications of them, Tucker took to hiking as he always does: enjoying his experience through smells and a much more matter-a-fact appreciation of the landscape.

​This short little hike was a polite introduction to Santa Fe. Not only did I see the city (small town) below, but I experienced what inspires the city.

It wasn’t as much exercise as Tucker and I needed, given another six days in the office ahead, but it was enough to make us want more—and the anticipation of more explorations a week away would have to hold us over.