El Malpais/Badlands . . .
Breathtaking and astounding. . . all in one day! It was a day like any other, one where we set off with some places in mind to explore, open to whatever eventualities may materialize.
The El Malpais National Monument was not far distant from us, and it sounded as if it would be an interesting area. For whatever reason, one of us seems to be fascinated with the idea of a "volcanic landscape" (hint: it is not I). As far as volcanic landscapes go, my first thought is along the lines of "If you've seen one, you've seen 'em all"; however, I am inclined to go along, and find that I enjoy myself wherever myself lands. After all, the general region in which we found ourselves was my idea to begin with.
As it turns out, El Malpais covers a vast area and is not limited to volcanic landscapes. One spot on the day's itinerary was a place called "sandstone bluffs". Ho-hum . . . the moniker did not blow any air up our collective skirts, but it was along the way, so of course we stopped, and we were ecstatic that we did!
As we climbed up to the top of the ridge and romped around on the slickrock surface high above the surrounding lowlands, we were surprised and enchanted with our find. The views from our lofty perch were breathtaking, but what was beneath our feet was even more so, especially with its unexpectedness.
Numerous waterpockets, some of substantial depth, added to the charm of our lofty discovery. . .
. . . and seemingly impossible - tadpoles were swimming in some! I still haven't quite managed to wrap my mind around the idea of toads hopping their arduous way up on those bluffs to find those isolated bits of water in which to lay their eggs. And what happens when the tadpoles become full-fledged toads. Do they hop out onto the rocks, look around, and wonder what in the world they are doing up there on that rock ridge? One more question I will never have answered.
If the sandstone bluffs had been the sum total of our day, I would have been satisfied: it was one of the most exciting and lovely places I have seen.
La Ventana . . .
. . . Spanish for "the window" seems a bit of an odd moniker for the massive natural arch we viewed from below. A window typically would have a view through it; in this case, the scene seen behind is a block of sandstone cliff, which detracts from the arch itself. The Feds do not allow us to walk directly under La Ventana, unlike most natural arches I have seen where folks can explore them at a closer vantage.
It is the second largest natural arch in New Mexico, and an easy walk along a paved trail to reach.
Crows and elk . . .
Everywhere we've been in this area, we've encountered lots and lots of crows. The photo below shows only a few of the huge flock that opted to hang out on the pavement ahead of us. We also saw lots of white-throated swifts soaring in front of the arch, and we added Stellar's jay to the trip list at El Malpais.
One species that I had forgotten to include earlier was a great blue heron I spotted at one of our crossings of the Rio Grande. Heading back on a narrow two-lane road from El Malpais, I thought I saw another, but to be certain, we turned around and went back for a better look.
That stop allowed us to spot a herd of elk that we had missed as we went by. This bunch was closer than the two herds of a hundred or more each we had already run across. And the bonus was that we found a place to be off the road to observe them at length.
The sandstone cliff behind us echoed their continual bugling so that it felt as if we were in the midst of the herd. It was great fun to observe the bulls' posturing and pawing and occasional head-banging while hearing their fascinating calls - of dominance, of challenge - or of whatever they need to vocalize during mating season. It was amusing to note that the cows never once lifted their heads while all that was going on; they continued placidly grazing in the tall grass while their male counterparts worked up a sweat.
I was shooting toward the lowering western sun, so didn't get anything in the way of good photos.
The lava flows . . .
As we sat in the truck donning our boots in preparation for a hike out through the El Malpais lava field, the sun shone brightly and continued to do so while hail and rain commenced to fall! It was quite some time before the odd weather passed us by enough that we could get out there.
Signage indicated that there was a 1.1-mile trail ahead of us. We were pretty surprised when we discovered that there was no trail at all; only a convoluted route that was laid out through the lava field and marked by stone cairns fairly close one after the other. A person could have gone quite astray out there without them. Various types of lava had covered many miles of the countryside. According to the señor, that is a "recent" lava flow, only 3,900 years old, so that its surface has not had sufficient time to weather. It was a surprisingly torturous walk, making the distance seem much longer than it actually was.
Although the footing was tricky and the way precipitous, it was fascinating with interpretive signage explaining how various areas were created by differing types of lava, and how the craters and cracks and mountainous build-ups were formed.
I found it very difficult to convey in photographs due to the lack of contrast.
Bandera volcano, ice cave . . .
As I may have mentioned once or twice, one of us seems never to tire of all things volcanic. That interest led us to Bandera Volcano. A couple of years ago, we had tried to visit the Bandera ice cave, but found it closed as was the seemingly entire rest of the world due to the covid pandemic.
This time, though, we were successful. Although my interest in volcanoes and lava had waned, I was game to go along with whatever we might find, and again, I was happy that I did.
The Bandera volcano is situated on private land obtained several generations back by the ancestor of the family that continues to operate a trading post of sorts and to allow self-guided walking tours to the volcanic crater and down the long steep steps to the mouth of the ice cave.
Even the gift shop was fascinating with a very impressive collection of prehistoric and historic Indian ceramic pots and basketry, items found out in the lava flows long ago. There is a nice array of contemporary Indian art and jewelry offered for sale.
The climb up to near the volcano's rim was facilitated by a road that had been graded into its flank.
Bandera is a relative youngster in volcano-age, a mere 10,000 years old, but still older than the other flow so the vegetation is much larger and the flows' surface more weathered than where we had hiked earlier.
Despite my ho-hum-another volcano attitude, I found it all interesting and fascinating, with such features as spatter cones and a 23-mile long lava flow erupting from that one crater.
The crater is enormous with crazily precipitous interior slopes. It's amazing to me that a few trees have managed to obtain a root-hold in those sliding cinders.
The climb put us high enough to see out to a landscape dotted with multiple other cinder cones.
A trail down from cinder cone heights took us to the ice cave which is said to have been forming for more than 3,000 years. A long steep set of wooden steps delivered us to the mouth of the cavern just above the ice's surface.
We were surprised to see that the ice's surface glows green with Arctic algae. As moisture seeps from the ceiling, it makes spatter drops on the goop, as I scientifically term it.
At the cave's approach, the rocks are lavishly covered with moss and lichen.
Eateries & literacy . . .
Because I earlier wrote about a terrible restaurant service (although I didn't name names and it's not right in Santa Fe anyway), I feel obligated to follow up with some recommendations of places with excellent food and exemplary service. In Santa Fe, I highly recommend The Shed and the Flying Tortilla. In Grant's, we were happy with La Ventana.
And for the grand finale, I offer the least literate restaurant buzzer ever, and I quote, "When flash and vibrate Please take the meal".
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