The last leg of our journey is the most familiar to me and therefore the least photographed. With the majority of the piloting duties, thus far, being under my belt I was happy to let my beautiful co-pilot take over so I could get some rest. The views from Teec Nos Pos (the monument) all the way to Gallup are mostly the same - huge expanses of land in a multitude of muted hues stretching right up to the light blue edge of a clear sky. There are a weathered mesas, table tops, canyons and mountains around and if we were allowed to explore the area, off-road, there would undoubtedly be a treasure of experiences. The landscape dominating Ship Rock (or Winged Rock as a Navajo man at the Four Corners Monument called it) is a 1500ft high remnant of the throat of an ancient Volcano and it dominates the view on this northern portion of todays journey. Before these modern history tribes of Native Americans called this place home, the ancient cultures of the Puebolans (or Anasazi) encompassed all these areas and had a settlement at the base of the rock.This is not one of the Navajo Sacred Mountains, though those can all be visited and climbed (on my short bucket list). VERY few people are given permission to travel overland on Native lands. There are a few trails with places to stay, made for tourists but the predominance of the land is for Natives only, so we didn't look to explore the surround areas. We shot past Ship Rock, drove about 120 miles through the north-west quadrant of New Mexico which the Navajo call home, and slipped into Zuni lands just south of Gallup and interstate 40.
The land down here is much more lush with shrubs and grasses, and turns into a landscape of rolling hills and snaking valleys as the terrain climbs towards the massive amount of designated wilderness that dominates the south-west section of New Mexico. When you travel through the area it is easy to get caught up in these made up boundaries of tribes, please trust me that the roadside signage is not the eons old territorial designations. If one imagines the area on a grand scale and all the different topographies and environments, it's fun to get off on a tangent in the head about how life interacted... a imagined form of ancient people watching.
Coming down State rd 36 into Fence Lake is a pleasant drive, on a small back road with very little traffic. As with all small back roads on Reservations and small towns in NM, I would caution against going to far over the speed limit. Revenue for LE departments is limited here and, even though it is subsidized, they will gladly hand you a ticket for violations knowing good and well you won't come contest them. My wifey found this out on the trip home when she was pulled over going 3-4mph over the posted speed limit in the
very small town of Glenwood, NM. Fence Lake is famous for being the home of the infamous Aggressive Christianity Missionary Training Corps (ACMTC for short). A copy and paste from Wikipedia seemed to be the best way to inform people:
The
Aggressive Christianity Missions Training Corps (abbreviated
ACMTC; also known as the Holy Tribal Nation, the Free Love Ministries, or the Life Force Team) is a
Christian fundamentalist,
Biblicist,
theocratic-like
cult. The
ministry, founded in 1981 by James and Deborah Green (sometimes collectively referred to as
the Generals; James is often called
General James and sometimes
Jim; Deborah is referred to as
General Deborah, formerly
Lila), still retains its
military structure, partially based on the original pattern of the
Salvation Army. In 2018, its leaders were sentenced to prolonged prison terms on charges of sexual abuse.
[1] Moving from its starting location in
Sacramento, California, it has now settled east of the rural town of
Fence Lake, in
Cibola County,
New Mexico, 60 miles (97 km) south of
Gallup.
[2][3][4]
The organization has been classified as a
hate group by the
Southern Poverty Law Center.
[5]
Climbing up the hills on the back side of the Mogollon and Black Range (which are the predominant ranges in the Aldo Leopold and Gila Wilderness areas), the lush green shrubs and grasses of the well watered plains give way to increasing pine, aspen, dogwood and cottonwood trees as well as increased severity of grade on the roads. This portion of the desert south-west was not missed in this seasons wet winter and the area shows it. I grew up in the region and there is a ton of ranching and farming that goes on here so rain is worth its weight in gold. I was happy in my soul to see the lush green forests and, while it needs some good management to prevent fires, the relative health of the forest. The joint wilderness areas and the surrounding National Forests are some of the Nations leaders in fire prevention through proper forest management. Us locals bitch them out a lot and hold them accountable (to unreasonable demands sometimes... *cough*Millennials*cough*) but credit where credit is due. The drive into the small town of Reserve is a beautiful one, with plenty of campgrounds and dirt avenues to explore. New Mexico is as rich as any of the other states with its diverse history and it is amazing the amount of history that all these places share with each other (well, probably not given the factors of old times...). What is now Reserve, NM was once called San Francisco Plaza (or Milligans Plaza) and was more a series of mining camps along the San Francisco River. The names Frisco, San Francisco and Francisco (in its various forms) come up a lot in these western United States. The influence of Mexican and Spanish culture is obvious.
This statue commemorates an event that occurred here during the law-less times of the late 1800's when a 19 year old Elfego Baca came into town and cleaned things up, one way or another. Different stories exist on the matter but the jist is such: The residents of the area complained about the behaviors of local cowboys, most of whom belonged to one particular outfit owned by John Slaughter (another famous name in the area). When Baca came to town, he shot a few of the cowboys for good measure and then holed up in a adobe cabin when the cowboys buddies came looking for Baca. A shoot out ensued, the odds were greatly stacked against Baca, yet he lived on to bring justice to the area and served as a lawman and lawyer for the rest of his life. His story is a good one, no matter what side you take on the matter and it links to lots of great history in the area. A link to get your curiosity stirred is put below. Evidently Disney made a series about it, and fashioned some of the early Hispanic heros (and villians) after him.
Elfego Baca & The "Frisco War".
Reserve is tantalizingly close to my homestead in the Gila River valley, where my family has lived for a decade. My mother and my child, the latter having her summer holiday from school, were waiting for us to arrive and I felt the urge to get out of travel mode for a few hours before we would turn around the next morning and pound pavement home. I love this part of the world. I dream of it and when I close my eyes on a hard day I think of it to bring my mind to ease. As you come out of reserve and onto hwy 180 you wind down and through the small town of Glenwood, NM and the Catwalk National Recreation Trail. As part of a tour of the history and majestic beauty of the area, the Catwalk can't be missed. It is less than 3 miles round trip up a slot canyon (we don't call them that round here) where an old mine used to be. The area was built up in the 50's by the CCC (I walked the old Catwalk, I can attest, it was old) and was rebuilt in 2014 after it got washed away during post fire season flash flooding. We did not stop there this time, I was too close to home to stop and be a tourist. We passed through town and made our way up on to the western slope of the Continental Divide. We stopped at the Aldo Leopold Wilderness Lookout Point so I could show the wifey the Nations first designated wilderness.
Those Google Globe (or whatever it's called) pictures don't come out great without the screen rotation. We obviously had a little fun with this one and , no, I did not sing the song. After a brief stretch and a few giggles at our childish behaviors, we jumped back on the road. The prevalence of street lights in this area is probably one in 150sq miles, so when we rolled up on this set up marking the start of a construction zone, I was amused enough to take a snap.
Just a bit further down the road, after the much needed zone of repaving, we set the hyperdrive cruise control on ∩OV FireFly at 65 mph and sauntered down the familiar hwy 180 that serves as the artery of civilization in these parts. Coming into Buckhorn - which is little more than a last chance shop (no gas here, that's in Cliff) where you can get beer, whiskey and the daily paper - I start to see the ribbon of cottonwoods to my left which serves as my indication that we are finally close to home. Some people hate the cottonwoods but I don't. They give us great shade in the summer and they remind me of home. Sure, they soak up a shit ton of water that could otherwise be used to irrigate or water herds. Water is literally worth dying over out here, the debates over it are passionate. Here, you can just make them out on the left hand side of the frame. Me trying to drive and take snaps on a camera phone is both stupid dangerous and a waste of time.
We neared sunset as I turned up the small road that runs on top of the Mesa that we live below. I used to be able to turn directly off of hwy 180 on to a short dirt road that went through a neighbors property, but they have since closed off access and now I go 'the long way'. I don't mind, it's one of my favorite views in all of the world. I have a billion pictures of this and every time I'm home I thank God for allowing me to witness the beauty of the area. I'm always in awe here and I tell my mother that until I get sick of the views we will always own land here. If you ever make it to this part of the world, I've got some dispersed camping on the top of the mesa above our land, it's spectacular for sunsets. This is the kind of place where you can watch the earth wobble over a span of time. The sun will set on the peaks during summer then slide steadily across that flat expanse you see, then back again. That kind of shit makes me feel like a really small and insignificant thing, in a good way. I love it.
Pulling into the property was glorious. That had been a really long 2 days, it felt like, and I need a shower and a cold beer. I partook of both, chased some new born calf and his sister out of my yard and back into the neighbors feed lot and relished in the wonderfully soothing and happy energy of my family. A scenic and history filled 1100 miles was in the books and in a mere 12 hours, we would turn around and make the less interesting 1100 mile journey home. I'll post some more on that later.