On August 16th my family and I piled into a 15 passenger van, and headed off to New Mexico for a last minute mini vacation before the little had to start school. The plan was to spend Thursday driving, Friday hiking/summit Wheeler Peak, and Saturday exploring. We’d head back home on Sunday and have one day to recuperate before going back to work on Tuesday. We had talked previously about the route we’d take to hike our way up the mountain, and when I looked up the mileage I wasn’t that concerned. You see, when you think 12 miles round trip it doesn’t seem that bad. Do the math: that’s six miles up, and six miles back down. People RUN 26.2 miles for fun. So, walking roughly the distance of a half marathon doesn’t seem so bad. And I had been previously told, ahem, that my short stature would benefit me as well. “Makes it easier”, they said. But what really sealed the deal was when I was told that one of my brother’s friends had made it to the summit the last time they had visited. So, I was like, “Pffft, if pocket Mexican (nickname for that friend) could do it, so can I.” Well, when we finally arrived in Taos we had a perfect view of the mountains, and my brother pointed at one while saying, “Hey Raquel, you see that one? That’s the one we’re going to hike.” Y’all, my eyes felt like they were going to bug out. I’m not going to lie I started to get nervous, and I believe my exact words were, “Oh. Shit.” We checked into the hotel, drove around the town a bit to get familiar with it, and then grabbed dinner before heading back to turn in early. The entire time Wheeler Peak was in view just trying to intimidate me. The next morning we were up at 6 am, grabbed a light breakfast, and headed out.
Looking back, I should have known that this was going to be the toughest thing I would put myself through to date. When my ears started to pop and we hadn’t even made it to the trail entrance I should have seen it as the red flag that it was. As we made our way through the winding road the temperature started to drop, and I felt like a bundle of nerves and excitement. Also, fear. Not even gunna lie. I was telling myself that this was going to be a great adventure, and I couldn’t wait to get to the top. Once we made it as far as we could by car we all climbed out of the vehicle, attempted one last potty break, and double checked to make sure we had everything in our backpacks. And y’all I just want to take a moment to say that I totally thought I was a “hiker” before that day. How cute, right? When someone asks me what my hobbies are I’m like “Oh, I like to run, read books, watch movies, and go hiking.” HA! Hiking my ass. I didn’t even know what REAL hiking was until after that day, y'all. I threw on my sweater, made sure Emery’s shoes were double knotted, and sent one last text to my mom about us making it to the park. “Are y’all ready?” Carlos asked. And with that, we set off.
There was a lot under construction in this area when we got there. About ¼ of a mile passed the trail signs we finally arrived at the trail entrance. We took a few pictures, and I noticed that my breathing was already a bit off. Nothing horrible, as it felt similar to when I jog, but it was noticeable to me because well...we weren’t jogging. By the time we reached a mile my brother had to give me his trekking poles. I didn’t think it would make a huge difference, but they totally did. So, if you're a first timer I definitely recommend that you snag a pair because they make a world of difference. As we made our way up the trail we talked about the most random stuff, and joked around. We were subjected to some off key singing compliments of my brother, and sister-in-law. Yes, we're that loud group of Mexicans. And as we were getting closer to the two mile mark we started to run into several other hikers who were already on their way down. I couldn't believe that some of these guys had already made it to the summit and it was only 8 am! The temperature was about 48 degrees at this point, and we could see the transpiration (I think that's what it's called) coming off of the trees. And that alone was something pretty cool to witness. But the views were really something else too. Every once in awhile I would take a deep breathe, and look around while trying to commit it all to memory. And also to try and catch my breathe. Still, even the most beautiful of views wasn't going to keep me from complaining once my breathing got harder. Sorry, y'all. I followed along while mumbling under my breath, "Uggh. I can already tell this is going to be rough, why did I let y'all talk me into this?" And to make it worse, at the time, my brother would holler out "HEY! Y'all know what's just up ahead?" We'd answer with, "NO, what?" or "Is it the lake?" And he'd let out this big laugh before responding with, "No. A great place to take a picture!" And this is about the time I told him where I was going to shove his trekking poles if he didn't cut it out.
We finally made it to Williams Lake (2 miles) after a few small curves, and my breathing was definitely more labored. I felt like I had been running those two miles at a little over my normal pace. Again, we were just walking. But y'all, when the lake finally came into view I held my breath for a moment. It was a spectacular view. You almost didn't want to keep walking forward because it would disturb it's perfection. The lake was on the low side, but we had a clear view of the surrounding mountains. The dew was glistening off of every surface, and the warmth of the sunshine felt amazing. I grabbed some water, and checked to see how Emery was doing. We adjusted our packs, and since Carlos told us it would probably get hotter we decided take our sweaters off. As we took in the scenery one last time I realized that this was almost at the halfway point. so I got a little overconfident. Word to the wise: don’t get overconfident as it will just bite you in the ass later. We took a few more pictures, and then with one final "are y'all ready" from my brother we began heading up the actual mountain.
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