Sunday, May 07, 2006

The Tale of the Trail

Poor Emy. Even though she also lives in the Albuquerque area, she “lives in a different time zone” than I do – she stays up later and sleeps later. Cat and I wake about 5 a.m., and in this small motorhome, there’s no way we can keep from disturbing her. But, she’s a good sport.

After breakfast we set out to explore a different portion of the west side of the lake. The dam was built in 1939, and it has been a popular fishing and boating place. There are lots of informal trails. We startled some large birds (we think turkey vultures) napping in the sun amongst large rocks, found a bench on a cliff to relax on, and ended up on a trail that took us directly across from the dam.

We stopped by the park’s visitor center, asked the ranger a bunch of our questions – one was a recommendation for hikes. He suggested going over to the east side of the lake and pointed out a trail on a map.

It was about 11 a.m., and the day was getting hot. First we made a lunch to take, gathered our hiking stuff, and then Emy drove us across the dam to the other side. It WAS a hot walk. About the same time we pooped out, we found a shady spot on the beach for lunch. After sitting on a rock dangling our barefeet in the water, we figured that we had had enough sun.

With the lake level down so low, we were able to follow the beach on our way back to the car. We detoured through the village of Sumner Lake and discovered a strange collection of dwellings in various stages of disrepair, mostly dirt roads, and stopped by the Hideaway in hopes of buying some ice cream (bar, café, general store, fish bait and supplies, video rental, pool table, two rentable rooms and owner’s living quarters – all in one building). No ice cream.

Two motorcycles got our attention first. And just as I was snapping Emy’s picture standing next to one, the two owners came out of the café. Nice guys from Clovis who had ridden here for lunch. The orange bike is a custom job, the black one is a rare one (forgot the age). Inside the proprietor, Mary, proudly showed us around.

Back at Jeremiah, we had a light supper. And then in the long-time Anderson family tradition, we had popcorn. The real stuff – made in a pan, not the commercial microwave stuff.

I went to bed thinking that after Emy leaves in the morning, I’ll move from Sumner Lake to Santa Rosa Lake State Park. I was at that park last year, and it wasn’t on my trip schedule. Or maybe I’ll stay here. Or maybe I’ll move. I planted those options in my head and fell asleep.