Day Twenty-Nine, Seven Fifty-Four PM

Rand McNally Sucker Map: The State of Entrapment.

"ARE YOU PLANNING on leaving the state?"

"Yes, to Colorado."

"Great. Are you planning on using all state highways in New Mexico?"

"Probably."

"And will you be traveling on any unpaved roadways in your underpowered Dodge Magnum Wagon?"

"Absolutely."

"Fine, fine, just sign here Mr. Terry and we'll get you on you way. Thanks for using Enterprise."

So maybe that isn't how it went, but perhaps in the future the State of New Mexico should reconsider granting state highway designations to unpaved roadways. But in retrospect, it lead to an interesting afternoon of high adventure...

Scott, Fat Man. Bradbury Science Museum.

We left Albuquerque about 10am in a steady rain. They were calling for snow in the higher elevations above 7500 ft but that wasn't a problem, accumulations would be light. Off we went with Scott on the map, John as co-pilot and me driving. After one detour (a mountain road marked "other road" by Rand McNally, but not "dirt road" as it accurately was) we arrived in Los Alamos and toured the museum.

We pulled out of Los Alamos in a light rain. Crossing into the lab area, we cut through to NM State Highway 4 and climbed higher. Fresh snow closed in, heavy in the trees. The road was wet but not slippery, and the views of the Valdez Caldera were breathtaking.

We dropped down the road to the intersection of Hwy 4 and 126. There was a warning of 13 miles of road on 126 that was "impassible" during winter. Not a surprise, they don't plow some roads in the mountains of LA in winter too. And it was mid-May, cold or not. We ventured on. A few miles down the pavement ended- NM DOT was working on a section of the road (presumably to pave it?). We followed the posted detour; it was a smaller road but we soon popped back onto NM-126 a mile ahead.

The road was still fine- broad, well drained and only slightly muddy. We cruised passed some cabins with people out playing in the light snow & rain, the first sign of life in a while. We all concluded that the "impassible winter road" was completely passible and kept on.

Climbing toward the divide we expected to cross before our final descent to the town of Cuba and NM-550, the road started getting mushy. I kept light on the gas, stayed out of the ditches on either side, and breathed a sigh of relief to see the snow on the road. It firmed up the mushy road wonderfully. Over the top, the mud came back, and I shifted into low and went slow. It was getting slippery in a big way.

As we dropped down, we came around the bend and into... Meadows. Damn. Natures own little sumps, a land of piss poor drainage. I looked at John with a conspiratorial glance. John had more driving experience in shitty conditions, and I was glad to give him the wheel.

No matter. We made it another mile before it caught us.

John and I had stayed "on the bubble" for at least 7 miles. That is, on the crown of the road, keeping the weight of the car from falling to one side (and stuck) in the now slippery-as-ice mud. But the perfect off-camber road surface did us in. The back end of the heavy Magnum slid over and bogged down. We were stuck. Any attempt a brute forcing it out was going to put us in the the drainage ditch with no chance of salvation.

We piled out and into the mud. Shoes stuck to the clay-like red goop. John sized it up, and then asked aloud: " Ok, any flat sticks or wood lying around?" Scott started looking. I began mentally sizing up the hike back to the last known humans- seven sticky rainy snowy miles back. And even so, would a tow truck make it in? As these thoughts flashed through my head we got down to business of harvesting anything the forest could spare us.

Several sticks, a push and a shove later, we went forward 8 feet. We had about 5 miles to go to get back to what might be pavement. More sticks, more digging with hands in the cold mud, 8 more feet. Rebuild, repeat. We advanced 3 times for 25 feet: only 26,375 feet to go. The rain began to pickup, and seemed to get colder.

Before my eyes, Scott turned into a delicious looking chicken drumstick, and John... a burger.

Shaking such Donner Party thoughts out of my head, we scavenged farther afield and Scott brought back more sticks, and I found a pile of cut trees willing to part with large sheets of bark. We laid out sticks and "paved" long stretches for both tires- 10 feet out from each of the four wheels. Minus appreciable tools, we built a road that would do the Army Corps of Engineers proud.

John began rocking it slowly. Scott and I pushed in time with each rock. The wheels of the Dodge were blocked solid with mud. The wheel wells, the floor boards, the undercarriage, all sticky with mud that wouldn't break loose from your boots with a stick, much less the tires of the car. But we had done something else this time: we realized the mud was a saturated layer 3 inches deep. We scraped long troughs for the tires that went down to the firm layer below.

The silver Magnum started to slowly move forward. The crab to the left side started to disappear. Scott and I had to jog to keep pushing forward but it was moving, moving. After one and one half hours, we were free! John stayed on it until we got onto a higher, dryer ridge slightly down the road.

Spirits quickly sank when we saw a Ford Expedition come sliding towards us with as much difficulty as were were having- but in 4 wheel drive. Not able to pass safely, we waited for him to come by. He brought tales of worse road ahead, and since he had a tow strap, we began to thing of following him back up the hill the way we came. Longer. Uphill. We gingerly turned around and started up behind this helpful soul. That's when the UPS truck came around the bend, sliding.

You can't make shit like this up.

Now it was rescue by committee. Our friend in the Expedition convinced the UPS driver to turn around, too. UPS man started out and barely made it up the first small rise. Nothing like the hill ahead, and his spinning tires grooved the road with deep ruts that would make it harder for our piss poor two wheel drive to follow.

Survivors!

That was it. Instinct took over and we 3 agreed instantly: down was shorter, and the only option. Expedition man bid us safe journey, doubtingly, but gave us his tow rope. We exchanged phone numbers for possible rescue once one of us reached phone service.

Last Ounce of Water: Note the Dirty Thumb Nail.

We slipped and slided our way down the road, with thankfully little uphill, and a touch of better road now and again. John masterfully "kept it on the bubble". Minus a scary moment sliding slowly toward a drop off embankment 30ft high, we moved slowly and steadily forward. Our UPS escort followed close behind, his dually rear wheels helping him float a bit above the muck that had bogged us down.

Wheels of Muck.

6 miles later, we crossed a creek bridge and rolled onto a paved road. We had suffered a 3 hour delay taking "the direct route" but had triumphed! After 15 minutes of trying to scrape our boots clean, we got back on the road to Durango.

Showing the Signs of the Effort.

The lesson here is: Don't drive NM State Highways after rain in a rental, and if Rand McNally calls your road a "other through highway" don't buy into it. It's a crock.

Two Hours from Durango: Bloomfield Sunset.

All of which are good rules to follow. Unless you want to have a good time!

-F

Postscript: The friendly Expedition driver kindly sent a truck with rescue gear after us an hour after we parted ways, and 30 min before we hit cell service. He could be out there yet. Godspeed, lad, Godspeed.