All pictures (with the exception of the live crinoid) by Heather Patrick. Last week I got a chance to hike with my sister Heather in the Sacramento Mountains, east of Alamogordo, New Mexico. Alamogordo is 200 miles south of my home, and its season is weeks ahead; while it is still cold and snowy in my Sandias, the Sacramentos were balmy. The sky was blue, the birds sang, the sweeping vistas spectacular, but what really made the hike memorable is that it was a walk through time that stretched way, way back.
It's hard to envision now, but this arid land was once very different. Between 358 and 323 million years ago, it was part of a vast ocean. Much of the
It's hard to envision now, but this arid land was once very different. Between 358 and 323 million years ago, it was part of a vast ocean. Much of the
limestone in the Sacramentos is studded with fossils that prove that the area was underwater. I saw lots of shells and shell imprints, but especially prevalent were the fossilized stems of crinoids, which look like stacked rock coins. Although they look like little palm trees, crinoids are animals, not plants. They are still alive today, but they are hard to see since they live at great depths.
Looking west, we could see straight across the Tularosa Basin to the San Andreas mountains, about 60 miles away. Once, these two mountain ranges were contiguous. The land in between has dropped.
Can you see the white line that seems to extend from the bill of my cap? That's the gypsum sands at White Sands National Monument.
Can you see the white line that seems to extend from the bill of my cap? That's the gypsum sands at White Sands National Monument.
Moving up the trail brought us forward in time. While walking along an arroyo, we saw these pock marked rocks. Although these were the only ones I saw on the hike, my sister tells me there are many of these in the area, and they are not naturally formed. Because water tends to collect in them, these depressions are called Indian wells. (The parking lot at the trail head is at the end of Indian Wells Road.)
A sign at Oliver Lee State Park, which is not far south of this trail, explains that these depressions weren't originally used for collecting water. Instead, they mark places where Indians ground up nuts and grains ground up. They are more like mortars than wells.
A sign at Oliver Lee State Park, which is not far south of this trail, explains that these depressions weren't originally used for collecting water. Instead, they mark places where Indians ground up nuts and grains ground up. They are more like mortars than wells.
Farther up the trail, in a narrow side canyon, we came upon something that I've never seen in a mountainous desert setting before: cattails. The cattails were in front of a cave that my sister tells me is a spring visited by Indians since time immemorial. There was about a foot of standing water in the cave, which seemed to stretch far into the mountain. This water source, so valuable in the arid southwest, has obviously been used by more modern man; on our way down the canyon we saw several lengths of rusted pipe and the derelict remains of an old water tower.
It was a lovely hike on a lovely day, and it was a reminder that there is interesting things to looks at wherever you go. History and geology, archaeology and botany are right under your feet, and beneath them, if you use your imagination, are story prompts enough to last a long, long while.
