"I've been through the desert on a horse with no name."
I lost all my stuff - temporarily. I went hiking one more time on Mount Turtleback. I found a cave and camped there for the night. In the morning I decided to leave my gear in the cave and hike around a little bit. When I got back I discovered that I couldn't find the cave. I felt pretty stupid about that. Hiking on the steep incline of a desert mountain is tough work, especially when you're lacking food, water and sleep. After a good six to eight hours of searching yielded nothing but delirium from exhaustion and dehydration, I decided to hike back down the mountain. There is a river at the base of the mountain and I took a drink. I'm not sure how clean the Rio Grande is, but I figured that in my current condition drinking from it couldn't be worse than not drinking from it. I still had four miles to get back into town.
I spent the night in the hostel and went back the next morning. After a mere thirty minutes of looking I found the cave and my stuff intact.
I took a bus from Truth or Consequences to Taos. A few people had told me I should go to Taos and from what I had read it seemed like an interesting place. So I went to Taos. As soon as a got into town a hippie picked me up and took me to a coffee house to hang out with other hippies. They were very informative about the goings on of the town and most of them offered me a place to stay.
Despite what the website may say, the Taos Pueblo does not open on March 25th. I was hiking up to the Pueblo entrance when a cop/ranger/whatever stopped me and told me that it was closed for the next three days. He then not-so-politely suggested that I turn around and start walking the other direction.
It started snowing. I decided to leave.
Right now I'm in Tucson visiting my grandparents.
I decided long ago that I want to establish a healthy lifestyle while I'm still young, strive to maintain through middle age, and thus avoid the common ailments of old age. Being around old people reminds me of this.
So far I've met quite a few hippies, tramps, gypsies, or whatever they choose to call themselves. Although they all have been really nice to me, I've realized that I only have a very limited amount of respect for them.
Guided tours would be less obnoxious without the other tourists.
I'd rather be a copper miner than a coal miner, but really I'd rather not be a miner at all.