It is interesting to get differing opinions about topography. When Juana and I decided to take a guided tour up Ramsey Canyon a few days ago, we were told that the first part was flat and the portion leading to the overlook was a little steep with switchbacks. Now where we come from, flat implies that little energy needs to be expended moving uphill. This was not exactly true in the Southwest.
Regardless of effort, the tour was wonderful, Â illustrating the differing aspects of how animals and plants exist on canyon walls. But when we got to the end, I wanted to further explore the canyons and scenic overlooks while Juana wanted to work on her artwork and drawings. So we parted ways.
The walk to the first overlook was less than half a mile but an increase in elevation of 500 feet. Now that may not seem that much but as I was huffing and puffing while climbing the canyon, I started to appreciate the effort it must have taken to blaze trails in this area.
Rebar is extensively used to hold rocks, railroad ties and logs in place so one could safely hike upward on steep inclines. I was fortunate to be accompanied by our morning tour guide, Tim, who’s extensive knowledge of the area is inspiring. He set a brisk pace for me and spoke in a simple and unstrained manner while my responses were between deep breadths wheezing and gasping for air.
Though I was taking a walk in a park, my journey was no walk in the park. I was hoping to observe all sorts of wildlife though I spent much off my time looking at the ground ensuring that I wouldn’t misstep and take a tumble. Even though the altitude difference was slight, the temperature difference between 6000 and 6500 feet was notable as it cooled the higher I got. And a slip could cause me to fall hundreds of feet. Focus.
Tim had said earlier that immigrants come through these canyons on a regular basis and he had never had any problems with them. His property was just over the ridge we were climbing and that there was a well-worn trail through his property. The people he met would sometime sleep against his house or knock on the door for water. He would help them and then call the border patrol for extra assistance.
But we were also told by a couple we met at our B&B that years ago drug runners would come through the canyon on a regular basis. They said that over the past few years that had slowed.
I tried not to think too much about this as I followed Tim up the trail. Steady climb, rock, big step. Climb, go to left, walk sideways up a wash, step, step. Stay on the trial. Avoid small rocks. Step. Breathe.
We soon got to the overlook where the vastness of the canyon revealed itself. Below the creek was coursing through a slit canyon filled with greenery, a contrast to the more barrren walls that defined it. Tim and I parted and I took a break and a few breadths deciding if I would continue on.
