Everyone who hikes with me knows I've been jonesing to get to Sapillo Box for a very long time. But access is difficult.
Last year, for my 70th birthday, we celebrated by booking the parlor car on the run from Antonito to Osier. It was so much fun that we decided to do it again from the Chama side, repeating that ride from 38 years ago.
We've been itching to return to the Sawtooth Mountains ever since we washed up there after our disastrous foray into the Withington Wilderness.
When our intended destination didn't work out, we "settled" for a delightful meander along the Gila River.
A few of us got together to explore a "trail" that leaves from Mogollon Box and leads over a ridge to drop down to the Gila River.
It was just a day hike with Gila Hikers, but when it turned out to be just Ken, Dennis and me, we decided to go adventuring. Instead of our planned Signal Peak/Black Peak loop, we headed down the CDT "Classic" from Signal Peak Ridge.
Dennis and I joined in a work day with the Continental Divide Trail Coalition near Signal Peak. Delighted to discover an abundance of great hiking nearby, we returned the following week with the Gila Hikers.
When it was time to take a high elevation break from a solid month of working in the heat to complete our our new porch, we headed for the Magdalena Mountains.
It's nothing special, but on a warm summer day, in the middle of monsoon season, it's the place to be.
We've always said that our Silver City house was definitely not our "dream house", but it checked a lot of boxes. However one box it failed to check was a porch — a feature that was very high on my list of priorities. Looking at it from the front, it was like the house had one eye closed. There was an entrance on the right, but the left side stared blankly at the street.
I may have overcome my fear of Signal Peak! Although the trail is unrelentingly steep, the grade is reasonable, with many switchbacks, and it is nicely forested all the way to the summit!
Year 'round residents of the Southwest desert know that the only way to survive June is to get the Hell out of town. With forecasters predicting an abnormally hot summer of 2024 throughout the Southwest, it was clear that our traditional retreats weren't going to cut it. We needed to get above 8000'.
For our second backpacking trip of the year, we opted to skip the long hot water carries and maximize our time on the scenic Middle Fork Gila River.
We have hiked this canyon so many times, but it's probably our all-time favorite hike. Today was perfect: 80° a light breeze, and just enough water to keep things exciting!
It had been two years since our last backpacking trip, so we decided to break up the roughly 15-mile trek into three relatively equal sections.
Working with Gila Trails and the Backcountry Horsemen to clear part of Wood Haul Wagon Road. It was a lovely day to be outdoors, and it feels good to help care for our wonderful trail system!
We returned with our hiking group, the Gila Hikers to a remarkable area of slot canyons and crenelated cliffs not far from Silver City.
I've been obsessed with Twin Sisters ever since moving to Silver City. I never thought I'd hike to the top. I certainly never thought I'd do it three times! But with a hardy crew from Gila Hikers, the miles passed quickly, and we made it easily to the summit.
Chasing an an eclipse wasn't in the cards for us this year, but we still wanted to mark the occasion in some way. So we set out to hike a streamside trail on the west side of the Mogollon Mountains.
Jamie, our "chosen daughter", paid us a visit with her daughter CC, a bright and beautiful young lady with a personality as big as the great outdoors!
Finally our schedules aligned, a window opened, and we returned to the Lower Gila Box with friends Val, J and Ken, for four days of camping and hiking. Or so we thought!
Four whole days in the Lower Gila Box, with no real itinerary. Total freedom to just go wherever our feet could carry us!
Of all the days to forget our water shoes! This streamside hike gave us thrilling views and lots of opportunities to soak our boots!
In the mid 1980s, Vermont friends injected a little levity into a local cross-country ski race that had become a bit too competitive.
