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Travels with Tucker

I'm not John Steinbeck and Tucker is certainly no Charley. But after our first year together travelling over 14,000 miles, criss-crossing America, hitting 17 states, I thought it was about time we started documenting our adventures.

Out of the Desert... and into the Land of Enchantment

5/6/2017

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The desert is a lovely place, but it is not my place. So with a research, I found a hike only an hour away that should satisfy my likings. I hoped that the “Cave Creek Trail” was aptly named and would give us both caves and creeks.

Into the Pecos Wilderness we went, and once close enough, we were officially off the grid. No cell phone service and no internet, so all those people who rely on that stuff to get you to trailheads: it’s not a good idea for this one.

I added a half hour onto our journey due to taking what I thought was the “slight left” the directions spoke of, only to be completely wrong by many miles. I was determined to find the trailhead, so although it seemed rather hopeless at times, I didn’t stop until we found it.

As we took the final turn to the parking lot, I thought that perhaps this little piece of paradise should be hard to find in order to keep it as unmarked by man as possible.
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This is where my trusty steed spent the afternoon while Tuck and I had our adventure.
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It is a far cry from Dorothy Stewart Trail and the desert of Santa Fe.
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The creeks I hoped for met up with us right at the trailhead.
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​The caves, however, were far more elusive…
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Despite there being little shade, it was a pleasantly cool walk. The sun shown bright, but the breeze kept us from being overpowered by heat. If we needed to cool down any more, a quick jaunt off the trail to the riverbed was enough.
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I was surprised to see that rivers rushed here. Fifty miles from downtown Santa Fe is an entirely different world. The Santa Fe River does run through the center of town, but it is a sad reflection of this so-called “creek.”
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​The trail ran through meadows and along the creek’s edge. And in one spot, we had to cross the creek. It gave me pause, and I considered turning back. The water wasn’t deep, and I tried to impress upon Tucker that it was important for him to be behind me (because when he’s leading the way, he just assumes I’m keeping up), and to go slow.
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​We crossed without incident, and continued on in search of the caves.
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The end of the trail on the map was not really the end of the trail. The little red line ended, but there were no caves. I thought perhaps our global positioning wasn’t accurate so I kept going.
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​Well beyond the little red line, still no caves. And the creek was further away. So, we headed back.
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​And then I turned around, went back to the river, thinking maybe we had to be off trail to find them. 
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The trailhead was hard enough to find; now the actual namesake of the trail was eluding us.

After a few roundabouts on the trail in the general vicinity, I accepted defeat-which lets face it isn’t really defeat: we still got to go on a hike in the woods.
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​Right before we reached the half way mark of the creek-crossing, which I was not looking forward to, I stopped off at an old campsite. There was camping or fires allowed that close to the river, but someone had disobeyed—which was to my advantage. As I sat on one of the logs near the charred ring of firewood, I looked over at the river and espied what I had been searching for all along: the caves.
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​Tucker and I made our way through the bushes and alas, like Indiana Jones finding the Temple of Doom, the caves loomed on the other side of the creek.
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Tucker saw the log that looked to reach across, and being the confident boy he is, leapt onto to it to start his trek across...
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... and before I could stop or help him, he fell, landing like a cartoon, log right in his crotch and legs in water. Once a boy smashes his penis on a log, I consider it game over. He agreed.

We decided to take the safe approach and partook of the caves from our distant place across the water.
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Feeling satisfied having found the trail's namesake (and Tucker was able to walk right again), we headed back.
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The terrain reminded me of the High Sierras. It was woods, but with a dash of desert. 
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​The water and trees made us feel at home, and it despite the difficulties in finding the trailhead and the namesakes, it was all worth it. To see this:
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My boy's smile is as beautiful as any landscape we walk through, and I'll do anything to make it appear.
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As we crossed back over the bridge and into the campground, someone had fired up a grill. A tree stood between the sun and us, making the smoke magic.
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​Only a month ago I had said that New Mexico wouldn’t be good for Tucker—too much desert. I was very clearly wrong. 
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The Land of Enchantment is just that. As we take out after-hike nap, we need only dream of where we wish to go next, and it will be there when we seek it out.
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