“We’re going camping this weekend. I don’t know where, but I’ll figure it out and let you know.” That was the ultimatum I texted to Mr. Adventure on Friday morning. After what seemed like several weeks of deadlines and driving and pickups and drop-offs and more driving and more deadlines, I was overcome by a powerful urge to just get the hell outside. Preferably on a high trail, and preferably somewhere I could sleep under the stars. And — I can’t believe I’m writing this, but it’s true — I hadn’t been to Mount Rainier, my go-to park, my happy…
The trail so nice I hiked it thrice. No, that’s not a typo.
Take two millennia of Pueblo history. Stir in Spanish invaders. Add a major Civil War battle, the birth of modern archaeology, and a 1940s movie star, and you’ve got Pecos National Historical Park.
“Hike until you hit deep snow,” the ranger told us. “Then turn around.” Great advice, unless there is no deep snow.
A hike to a goblin colony deep in the Santa Fe National Forest gets our New Mexico trip off to a stellar start.