Ojito Wilderness

Juniper arms, originally uploaded by craptastica.

Sunday began as a rough day. I ran in the morning and seemed to have injured my lower back. Yet, I'm a ridiculous and stubborn person. Injury to me breeds restlessness and I was damned to be sitting at home all day.

Just to spite myself, I decided to check out New Mexico's new wilderness: the Ojito Wilderness. The Ojito wilderness is 11,000 acres of mesas, badlands, hoodoos, arroyos, and flats with zero year-round water sources and zero known oil, gas, or other mineral reserves. It is for this reason alone that Congress recently designated this economic nothingness New Mexico's first wilderness area in 18 years.

The wilderness lies between Albuquerque and the small town of San Ysidrio (just south of the Jemez Mountains). It's only about 30 minutes from the city, which is amazing considering its emptiness. In my opinion it is a perfect fit for a wilderness designation. The Wilderness Act is a mandate for lonely spaces, and the Ojito badlands are exactly that.

I packed a lunch, grabbed some gear, and brought along a special rice crispy treat (thanks zach!) that would keep a small rhino from walking straight. I got to the wilderness boundary in no time and picked a trail I had heard housed a small collection of hoodoos and Ponderosa pines.

The day was sunny with a small scattering of clouds on the south and east horizons. The only hint that it was the middle of winter was the biting wind, which flapped the loose parts of my clothing wildly and kept me sniffling occasionally, but regularly.

I had walked no more than a mile in when I began to see the hoodoo remnants of a sandstone mesa. I felt somewhat rewarded, but awful. I was considering raising the white flag and going home to nurse my lower back when I realized that my legs were beginning to feel all rubbery and I couldn't really think straight. The rice krispy treat was starting its psychedelic dance on my brain and I realized I was going to stick around and explore for the next 5 or 6 hours.

Which is exactly what I did.

I walked and walked and walked. Over the mesa and down into the arroyo below. Across a deeply eroded hill made from stream deposits and onto a great grassy plain that seemed to have no end.

I examined the strange polished black rocks that seemed to be randomly sprinkled amongst the rough brown masses and laid on my stomach to peer at an area of thousands of minature spires which had been carved by water's chisel from a once uniform grade.

As the sun began to fall, I sat on a mesa top and stared dreamily at the tawny and rust colored land forms that stretched from horizon to horizon. I felt normal again and decided to start the long walk back so I could get some hot eats and something for my back.