Tonelli's Travels

Well rested after a cool night’s sleep, I woke up before the sun on my third day to hike the Marufo Vega Trail, my longest trek of any kind to date. The sun peak over the horizon, a glow of orange behind the dusky blue mountains, and the desert life began to find shade. A coyote sprinted in from of Sunny, dashing from one side of the road to the other, looking for a place to hide out as the temperatures rose. Around the corner, just before the trailhead, a few donkeys ambled down the road and into the brush, munching on the grasses as they went. Up ahead, one straggler ran down the hill to find his buddies, late to the party. And then, one more reward for an early start, two wild horses chomping on desert breakfast before finding cooler respite for the day. What a wonderful start to the day!

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I spent a few moments checking my gear, ensuring I had enough water, turning on my GPS tracker, sharing my trip with my mom, and then set off down the trail to begin my 14 mile journey. Cool and shaded, the path traveled down a dry creek bed over stones and sand. The mountains loomed around me, just their very peaks lit up by the rising sun. Soon the path climbed a few feet, onto the desert floor, and continued along an old mining line, now just a rusted wire and some fallen wooden beams.

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In time I made it to the first climb, up a rocky face and into the mountains. The rocks acted like stairs, guiding my way, and then descended into desert again. The sun came and went as I wove through the land and I enjoyed every brief break I was afforded, knowing the afternoon would offer little reprieve. I slowly sipped my water, trying to balance hydration and conservation. Hiking is the desert is dangerous and a long hike like this risky. Luckily my parents’ voices and cautions repeat in my head, keeping me safe and aware.

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Each time I looked up, the word, “Wow” spilled from mouth. In every direction I was surrounded by stone walls jutting up from the earth, rusty red and ashy gray, usually barren but sometimes spotted with a few green dots. The immensity and breadth of the landscape awed me each time.

With energy and enthusiasm still high, I continued forward, along the ridge, until I came to the north and south forks. There I met two backpackers, resting under a rare tree, enjoying the shade before hiking out for the day. Two PT students traveling between rotations, they shared their suggestions about the trail ahead and sent me off with well wishes. After two hours of hiking, four miles down, it was nice to see another person and to take a brief rest. Only 10 more miles to go!

I headed left, down the south fork, and was soon rewarded with a glimpse of the Rio Grande far below. Turquoise and glistening in the sun, it urged me on in hopes of a greater view ahead. From there the path sloped downwards, a series of switchbacks lined with loose rock. I stepped carefully, often sliding a bit and needing to catch my balance before being able to take my next step. Bees buzzed around, but never landed, and a breeze cooled me off every now then as the sun beat down. A few times I thought about turning back, but my desire to complete the challenge and perhaps a bit of my stubbornness kept me going forward and down.

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Down, down, down I went, nearly 2,000 feet, but still far above the the river. I did come to a river access point about midway, but walking the extra half mile down and back did not sound appealing. Plus, it was hot now, somewhere in the 90s and I did not want to exert the extra energy. So I continued on, two miles until I would the north fork.

Those next two miles seemed to stretch on forever, no shade in sight. But the red rocks climbing upwards to my left and the green blue river to my right offered a welcome distraction. A turkey vulture soared above me, circling in front of the mountains, riding the wind gusts. I admired its grace but also shouted to it, “I’m not done yet!” Hopefully I wasn’t the meal it was spying.

Each time I came to a rise in the trail, I thought, “Ok, this is it. This is when I start climbing.” But I was fooled many times. I began looking for a lunch spot, something out of the sun, but kept hiking for several miles I passed too long horn steer, seemingly separated from their heard, grazing in the lush vegetation. Then, I saw hikers! Two groups of two passed me, giving me comfort that I was not alone. They were the first people I’d seen about four miles. I never felt uncomfortable being alone though. I had my Garmin inReach for emergencies and knew my mom was tracking me. And it felt liberating to be doing this on my own.

A few more miles and hunger really started to call my name, so I huddled behind a rock that was angled just the right way to shade me from the sun. I pulled out my sitting pad, tucked in my legs, and at a well earned lunch. I stayed long enough to rest my tired feet, and then headed out again.

That’s when the climb begun! And gosh was it steep. Up and over rocks I climbed, finding crevasses to put my foot and hands to pull myself to the next ledge. I stopped at every ounce of shade to catch my breath and get some heat relief. Then off I was again because as a friend once said, “The slower you go, the longer it takes.” I use that for motivation every time I want to stop. And at this point I certainly did. Ten miles in, four to go but the rest largely uphill. Nevertheless, I was glad I chose this route because coming down the boulders would have been way less fun.

Finally I made it to terrain I recognized, back the the fork, the loop part complete! Yay! My energy grew (slightly) as I knew every step was a step closer to Sunny, cold seltzer, and a shower. “I’m coming!” I kept saying to myself.

The hike out was equally gorgeous, providing views of Boquillas and the sprawling greenery surrounding the river edge. Despite being exhausted, I paused every now and then to soak up the view and marvel and the beauty all around.

About a mile away, I ran low and then out of water, so I was grateful I was nearly done and had full tanks in the van. Dreaming of that seltzer pushed me on. I power walked through the stone creek bed and saw Sunny in the distance. My home away from home!

When I arrived, I ripped off my boots, filled a tall glass of water, and sat down. Oh, how glorious it was to sit!

While I was exhausted, I was also energized. 14.5 miles at the end of the day, by myself, was a major accomplishment that I might not have attempted a few months ago. I’m proud of the growth I’ve made.

I hope reading this hasn’t tired you out too much! Who wants to join me for the next excursion?

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