El Rito Creek

 

 

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Every day the dogs and I take our favorite walk on the same dirt road behind the house. To the North the stunning peaks of the Sierra Negra mountains cast deep shadows in December’s low light. We usually head East stopping to feed three donkeys, one llama, two alpacas and a horse all of whom are friends of ours.

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Climbing the steep spiked Juniper hills we pause at the gorge to see if the coyote is around. Peering down into the shadowy cracked – earth canyon is like entering another world. Coy – wolves also inhabit this general area, and once or twice I saw a mountain lion’s tracks in one of the sandy gullies.

Evidently the puma, who needs a lot of acreage for its territory, was just passing through, because the tracks stopped after a day or so… Mountain lions, I read in the petroglyph literature, are mostly associated with the old “warring” activities of the pueblo people of this area. It’s important to understand that these skirmishes between Indigenous tribes usually did not end in anyone’s death, although hostages were sometimes taken.

One of the fiercest petroglyphs I have ever seen was that of the Mountain Lion, whose habit of ambushing its prey, tearing it to shreds, and caching the remains probably taught the Indigenous people how to use stealth when raiding millennium ago. Petroglyphs in this area show the claws of this cat always extended and face is often drawn or pecked into the rock with bared teeth. A formidable predator, the Puma.

The road veers left and steep gravelly hills rise up on both sides of the road. To the Northeast an opening between the cliffs offers a sudden surprise as a low plain appears stretching out for miles. Gazing into the distance I take pleasure in noting the reddened stone that comprises the mesa on the other side of the valley. Beyond the valley to the east, the snow capped Rocky Mountains rise up dramatically. If we stop for a moment the gurgling sound of the El Rito creek becomes audible as it meanders through the valley eventually making its way to the Chama River. There are few houses in this area and I love the sound of silence that accompanies us on this walk. The dogs are alert scanning for scent.

Descending the hill we reach a small arroyo and cutting a sharp right we walk across an overgrazed wasteland almost devoid of vegetation in places to reach the sandy shores of the creek. My friend Beatrice from Abiquiu pueblo tells me that this creek carries water from the El Rito mountains downstream. Sometimes, during the winter the water freezes, and I have already seen evidence of this freezing and thawing because broken sheets of ice are heaved up against one another in some places.

When I let the dogs off their leashes they take off racing across the sand, jumping into the creek and lapping the water with great enthusiasm. I find a rock to sit on, enjoying the warmth of the sun and another view of “the reptiles” so named (by me) because these layers of ridge-back mountains rise up to the southeast like some mysterious prehistoric creature, blanketed by a deep blue firmament.

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I am a “water woman” by nature; I have never lived anywhere for any length of time that didn’t have moving water nearby. Here in the high desert this small creek has become an oasis for me – a place to reflect and dream. What I love the most about these early winter days is being able to sit on a stone in a warm sun in December, listening to the sound of water flowing while remembering keenly the sun’s absence at this time of year in Maine in conjunction with sub -zero temperatures!

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6 thoughts on “El Rito Creek

  1. I’m trying to transport myself on a magic flying carpet from New Brunswick (minus 35 degrees fahrenheit tonight, counting the windchill) to El Rito creek. Greatly appreciate the written directions and the photos that will help me orient myself. Will try not to land on “the reptiles.”

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