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:
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.
The map was quite clear (a welcome change from many trails), and then we stepped beyond the sign and out of civlization.
Tucker led the way, and I kept my eye out for dangers.
From up high, you look out to see green and life; not brown sands.