Coming out of the desolate flatness of the Chihuahua desert, my legs began to ache as I entered the Big Hatchet Mountains. Here, the trail followed a pass through the peaks, winding through the steep, dramatic ridgelines.
The Big Hatchet
Mountains are truly remote; these are the least visited mountains in the whole
of the USA, and there are no nationally maintained trails here, save the
Continental Divide. Something is disconcerting about this, as I’ve heard
there’s dangerous wildlife. When I pitch my tent to sleep, I’m reminded of old
cowboy movies, of those scenes where our hero settles down for the night, only
to discover a rattlesnake in his sleeping bag. I make sure to check everything
thoroughly, and every time I sit down for a rest, I listen out for that
sinister buzz, an angry rattlesnake’s warning.
Another worrying fact is that this area is famous for its cougars, or mountain lions. As the USA’s only big cat, she enjoys an iconic status as a symbol of the North American wilderness. I can’t help wondering whether one is following me, stalking this hiker along the rocky passes of the Hatchets, its soft paws inaudible to my human ears. I began to quicken my pace, eager to reach safety at tonight’s rest spot, the historic town of Silver City.
I arrived in town in the early evening after following the dirt tracks that led in from the desert. This is the first major resupply town on the route, and I was grateful for a chance to rest, resupply and sleep in a bed for a change.
Silver City is a lovely little place, laid-back and friendly, full of souvenir
shops, galleries, cafes and most importantly, a good grocery store to replenish
my supplies. The town itself is historic. Once an Apache campground, it was
settled by American prospectors in the 1870s, who came looking for silver in
the nearby canyons. Today, it has some beautiful heritage houses and old
churches, as well as a nice little park, which I spent the evening in, watching
the deep red New Mexico sun set beneath the hills.
No comments:
Post a Comment
It's so good to see you here . . .