I still had camp to myself all morning until someone rolled in at around 8:30am as I was leaving. My first stop was at the Walmart I was going to camp at the night before for a shop. Despite the signs, I saw a couple of RVs there that had been parked in the same spot yesterday afternoon. They were the losers as far as I was concerned considering my ace camp.

I stocked up, then crossed the highway to visit the El Malpais visitor’s center. It was on the border of this park that I’d camped last night and I would be driving through it on my way west. The young girl acting ranger there told me about a couple of trails I could venture out on, but it sounded as if El Malpais National Monument wasn’t really much to look at. I concocted a plan to go for a trail run to make it worth my while.

At the El Calderon trailhead, there was predictable no one around. When I got out of the car, I was happy to find the sun had nicely warmed the atmosphere so I only needed one layer for my run. I set off on the 8km loop. The going was muddy, but doable. For the first half, I stopped a bunch to look into the openings of a few volcanic caves. Some are explorable, but only with a permit, not that I was equipped to go much further than the openings! The whole plain I was running through had been formed by volcanic action so the ground was either red or black.

The mud continued and as I climbed gradually higher, snow came into the mix. Yes, I was actually putting my feet in it now. At the end of the trail, I reached the cinder cone and there was a short loop to go up and around the crater. The snow covered most of the trail here so it was slow going and not just because of the white stuff. It’s damn hard to run uphill when you’re above 7,000 feet! Anyway, I made it to the top, lungs feeling exhausted and there wasn’t much of a view into the crater because of the trees, but it had been a good burn to get to the top.

I ran the circuit around the imploded earth, made it to a viewpoint, then descended quickly down some narrow stairs. From there, it was a different path back to the car. The trail turned from mud to dry black volcanic rock with the way marked more by flags than an actual path. I ran gently over the rocks, being careful not to roll an ankle. So gentle in fact that I wasn’t lifting my feet enough. Before I knew what was happening, I’d toe’d into a rock and fallen straight into the rubble. I hit my left knee hard and my left ankle also throbbed. I was surprised when I started wailing like a baby. When you’re alone (and 27 years old), it’s ok to cry out in pain until it goes away. Which it eventually did. I got back on my free and continued my little wimpers as I got going again, walking. I walked maybe half a kilometre through the rest of the rocky field before setting out at a jog again.

Thankfully, the volcanic mini-boulders were replaced by gravel so the last two kilometres of trail was easy going, with only a few muddy soft spots. Still didn’t stop me from eating shit a second time! I was already questioning why before I hit the ground. There was nothing for me to trip over! My feet must have got in my own way. Bloody hell. No crying out this time because I was in disbelief I could be so uncoordinated in the space of ten minutes. I ran on. The last kilometre at least was uneventful.

Back at the car, I felt wonderful having stretched my legs and my lungs and I was ready for an overdue shower. Since there was no one around, I didn’t bother with my privacy screens and let it all hang out, dancing around to my music as I showered. A funny sight for any hiker that happened to come along the Continental Divide trail. Now I really felt great.

I drove on to the next National Monument of El Morro. This one you can see from the road before you drive in. El Morro is Spanish for the Headland and that basically sums up this 200-feet high spire of rock jutting out from an otherwise flat landscape. In the visitor’s centre, I learned that the small pool of water at the base of the cliff is the only water source for twenty miles which made this point an essential stop for travellers in the 1600s and 1800s. Before then, Indian tribes built on and occupied a site atop the rock feature, farming the land in the canyon below.

I did all the trails available. The first along the base of the cliff where numerous travellers have carved their names and in some cases, their purposes in the wall. Something to pass the time while they rested their horses and fed off the water source. A lot were more than simple block letters too, some people got fancy with cursive writing and borders around their signatures. Amongst them were petroglyphs drawn by Indians and Spanish artists alike. Thousands of years of history carved into rock.

Around the back side of the cliff, the trail was dotted with snow since it doesn’t receive any sunlight, which made the climb to the top a little treacherous in my Tevas. From the top, the view of the valley was beautiful and even better was the trail carved into the rock to guide people like me away from the edges and prevent erosion of the sandstone.

I hopped along the top of the bluff, looking down into the canyon below and around at the snow-patched hills. At the end of the trail were the excavated ruins of the tribe’s dwellings. It was a pretty sweet spot, right at the top of the bluff, though it would have been windy as anything! That was the last point of interest on the hike before heading down. I was bloody starving at this point so I hustled.

As I made my way through the visitor’s centre, making a beeline for my car and food, the ranger told me they’d just started the 25-minute movie about El Morro. I delayed my hunger pains to watch with another lady. I’m glad I had, it was interesting and it showed El Morro in all the different seasons. Even better is that the lady, Joanne, and I got talking after. Her husband and granddaughter had gone on the hike but she’d stayed behind due to a knee injury. She was very interested in what I was doing because her granddaughter was in the same shoes, 32 years old and travelling constantly. We chatted a while inside the centre until I absolutely had to get food. I was happy to she she’d also retreated to her car so after I’d made lunch, we talked some more while I ate. A lovely lady and very kind, she lives near Albuquerque with her husband and enjoys the mildness of each season. Not a mild winter if you ask me! Eventually, I had to get on the road so we said goodbye and I left her to wait for the rest of her party so she could have lunch.

I continued driving west towards Arizona. At the township of Zuni Pueblo, school was out, so I got to drive slowly along the main street which was dirty from mud brought on to it by the nearby land. Kids walked home from school travelling light with only a folder in their hands. I didn’t see anyone carrying a backpack. In town, I only narrowly avoided a dog who ran sporadically onto the street. After swerving, I looked behind me to see that he had retreated safely to the kerb only to run out again in front of another car. Thankfully he survived both incidents. Just after leaving town, another dog ran out of the bushes and dawdled his way across the road. I slammed on the brakes for this one, again just missing the black and white dog who seemed nonplussed about a huge piece of metal that had been coming directly at him. I hope life isn’t that bad in Zuni Pueblo that the dogs want to commit suicide.

I was out of cell service again so I hadn’t been able to suss out a campsite. After crossing into Arizona and turning north on the highway, I eventually hit signal and found out there weren’t many options in front of me. Knowing that, I turned around before reaching the major highway and found a spot by a country road. It was just past 4pm, but I was tired and ready for an early camp.