Waist Deep in the Big Muddy

Pete Seeger was telling an allegory of Viet Nam with his song “Waist Deep in the Big Muddy,” but I really was Deep in a Big Muddy a few years ago.  Memories of that came back as I contemplate a trip to New Mexico to see my sister.

I am thinking of one day and how it reminded me what Pilgrim Life means.

“It was Back in Nineteen Forty Two”

In my case it was 2015. I was in Albuquerque to see Sis but also to enjoy what truly is a Land of Enchantment. Not for nothing have mystics and hermits gone there. Not for nothing have ancient peoples determined to stay there.  There is something about this area that makes it different from Arizona or Colorado, something that goes beyond geography.

Sandia Peak

Just east of Albuquerque, and I mean right there, is Sandia Peak, which means watemelon.  The ancient residents called it something else: Posu gai hoo-oo, in Keres: Tsepe, in Navajo: Dził Nááyisí, in Tewa: O:ku:p’į, in Northern Tiwa: Kep’íanenemą in Towa: Kiutawe, in Zuni: Chibiya in Yalanne.  So many names, and each one makes you wonder what it means.

Having hiked the area before, I am going to climb it this time, along a well marked trail that the guide books says is moderately strenuous.  I have done some steep climbs before, in Spain and Japan and China.  I am a healthy 65 year old.  The sun is out, the temperature is mild.  My shoes are broken in.  I have a study walking stick and a fully charged phone.

Abandon Hope…

Well, not quite that bad.  After parking the car in a visitor’s lot at the base of the mountain, and consulting my trail guide, I started off, grateful at first for the shade as the sun was bright and warm and I had put on two layers.

This first part, hilly but not steep, reminded me to look down.  Tripping over rocks is the easiest way to end a hike in a hurry.  Not long into the hike, approaching the mountainside, a sign said, “dangerous ascent” or something that like that, “closed in winter due to ice and snow.”  It was sunny, warm, and not yet winter.  No reason to hesitate.  Sometimes, though, the warning comes well before the danger.

“Climb Every Mountain”

I remember that scene from the movie, “Sound of Music,” as the von Trapps escaped Austria by going over the alps on foot.  It was thrilling to watch.  Only one problem: it didn’t happen. Not that there was no risk, just that they did not climb over mountains singing Edelweis.  They took the train.

Sandia Peak has a tram.  I had seen it on previous trips and said to myself that morning.  “I will climb up and tram down,” walking between the tram station and the parking lot.  The distance up and the distance at the end not even ten miles.

While Sandia peak is no Alp, it is high in altitude.  Albuquerque is at 5200 feet and Sandia is another 4000 ft higher.  I may not need pitons and ropes, but it will be a real climb.

“The Hills Are Alive,” and Cranky

The trail became a series of switchbacks, which makes perfect sense.  And it was quite well maintained.  But those who live at lower altitudes tend to forget that temperatures go down as you go up.  Two switchbacks and I am climbing through snow.  Do I have a hat to keep warm?  No.

The snow rests on rocks not dirt, and from time to time I must climb on all fours to make sure I do not slip.   Do I have gloves to protect my hands? No.

I think about turning back, but I am more than halfway, and there is the Tram ride back.

“The Big Fool Said to Push On”

I do make the summit, and see signs pointing to the Tram.  It is a relief to be on flat ground.  In short order I am approaching the Tram.

I see no activity.  Nothing is moving.  It is closed for the season.

Ok, what to do now?  From a previous trip up by car I know there is a viewing platform and snack bar about a mile from here.  There is a sign pointing to the trail.  Not much choice, so off I go. 

Flat it was.  Easy it was not.  It is cold, and along the way I have to overcome a pile of dead trees that bar the way and mud – big mud – from rain and melted snow; mud into which I and my walking pole sink several inches.

“Come Pick Me Up!”

Ever do that as a kid, call mom and ask to be picked up?  Well, I made it to the snack bar, which was open, and called my sister who came and picked me up.  She could not help giggling about my need to be rescued and honestly neither could I.

The lesson?  Adventures defy planning entirely.  There is an essential element of uncertainty.  In this case the snow was not common even in early November, so nature takes the blame on that.  But I could have realized the tram was closed.  But if I did, I would not have done the climb at all, and that day, which is rich with recollections, including stupendous views and real challenges, remains one of the great days of my life.

Not Knowing is Essential to the Pilgrim

Plan, be prepared, do not over estimate your powers, all those things.  But a perfectly planned day will not be a pilgrim day.  Leave room for what you do not know.  Let yourself get Waist Deep in the Big Muddy from time to time.

Like the woman in Beijing also in 2015, which is another story for another time.