Sunday, 11/14/21 — Midnight Mine Camp, NM — Charging into strange dark territory

I woke up around 6:45am to the sound of someone driving by my camp. I was mildly surprised because I thought I had done a fairly decent job of getting myself into the middle of nowhere the night before, but clearly the hunters in that truck begged to differ. Thankfully they did not stick around and I was left to start my day in peace.

My camp was actually less of a camp, and more of a wilderness version of a cul-de-sac. I'd driven from Taos back to Questa and into the same woods as before but this time instead of turning left on 134A toward Cabresto Lake I stayed on 134 and took it all the way to its end, or rather I should say all of its ends, because 134 splits into several short stems of road way out in the vicinity of the old Midnight Mining Camp. I did not have advance knowledge of any of this, mainly because I neglected to consult any maps before charging into strange dark territory with a quarter tank of gas and a car that was quite likely approaching its end of life stage. Of course by this point I'd learned that once I had the transmission engaged and a good steam built up on flat roads I could hit the uphills at speed and the momentum would carry me without the car slipping out of gear. With such strategy I was able to arrive at Midnight, and to explore every single one of those short road stems, and to finally settle on the one labeled 54F, where I parked and opened the Hideji dark chestnut ale I'd acquired earlier at The Cellar in Taos. It immediately fizzed hard and sprayed itself all over the console and dashboard, and after I was finished cursing and cleaning up the mess I drank what remained and fell asleep wondering if I could blame the Japanese if I got pulled over and questioned about my car's boozy scent. Probably not but it would certainly be worth a shot.

I stayed at my cul-de-sac camp for a while drinking coffee and reading Jon Krakauer's Eiger Dreams which Justin had lent to me before I left Salida. Then I went for a run, explored an old mine called the Edison, and chatted briefly with a father-son pair of elk hunters who had been unlucky in their hunt so I wished them well and complimented their nice bright orange hats and vests. Always be sure to compliment the strangers with shotguns life sends your way. Then I ran back to my car, had myself a good and proper hobo bath in the woods, and drove away.

On my way down a very narrow rough section of road I met a truck coming up. I attempted to yield to the uphill traffic as dictated by mountain road etiquette by pulling directly off into the trees in a spot that looked pretty well passable, but in the process I managed to snag my right front tire on a stump. My car refused to reverse uphill, leaving me quite stuck. As the truck went by I saw it was the same father-son pair of hunters I'd chatted with earlier, and they kindly offered to pull me out. "Thanks but I think I got this," I said, and threw it in park yanked on the brake and stepped out of the car, and as my cape waved majestically in the sudden gust of wind and superhero music raged loudly all around I leaned down, placed my hands on the offending stump, and tore it right out of the fuckin ground.

Then I tipped my hat to the hunters and went on my way.