Okay, we've already fouled up the bus stop numbers. This camp outside of Taos is #5, not #4 as previously posted. We froze to death here last night! A little front came through in the night and temps went below 30F. We drug our shivering bodies up in the middle of the night and put on many more layers of clothes and threw on Mom Miner's blanket plus towels and table cloths and finally got warm enough to sleep.
Another beautiful day though and the sun immediately warmed things up this morning. Today we hung around Taos to do business. Some days traveling is hard - getting prescriptions mailed to the right place, time on the phone, finding wi-fi to hook up and pay bills - all while trying to smooth down that camper's cowlick that points toward Mecca, and cleverly covering breakfast and dinner spots on your shirt as you gesture in conversation with dazzlingly stylish local New Mexicans. I'd spell all this better but the campfire soot is obscuring the screen.
Traffic was overwhelming Taos' roads as we flustered our way out of town, bound west and north across a desolate landscape that crossed the majestic Rio Grande Gorge. The incredibly deep, narrow and sheer gorge was a traveler's shock and awe - it sliced this vast arid plane like a deep knife cut and gave up no warning or goodbye as you approached and as you left. We imagined a surprised pony express rider and horse arching beyond its lip struggling to accept their sudden change from horizontal to vertical.
An hour of desolation got us back to the Carson National Forest to the West and the remaining drive took us up beautiful forest and high mountain meadow to Hopewell Lake and bus stop #6. It looks to be the prettiest yet!
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