Spring Hiking: Nambe Lake

June 12, 2020

Last week I found myself with a mid-week day off work and decided to get out of the city and into the mountains for a few hours. It's amazing how therapeutic a change of environment can be, especially in the current chaos of the world. Since Meredith was born in January it feels like I have had to be responsible for caring for someone else 100% of the time every day. While working in healthcare, my energy is entirely devoted to taking care of other people, often individuals who are extremely sick and scared, sometimes going through the most challenging phase of their life. And when I'm at home, I'm a full-time mother and wife, navigating this new journey of raising two daughters with entirely different developmental needs. I can't remember the last time I didn't have to care for anyone but myself. One of the great contradictions of quarantine is that we are either isolated and lonely or else completely overwhelmed by being with the same people all day. We don't have the freedom to choose when to schedule alone time and when to engage in social time. People who are quarantined alone are desperate for human connection, while those surrounded by their families are craving a minute to themselves, especially those of us who are introverted and draw our energy from within ourselves. I am someone who really thrives while I have the opportunity to organize my thoughts and let my mind wander, so four hours of alone time in nature was exactly what I needed to reset.

Nambe Lake is one of my favorite hikes in Santa Fe. The trail looks a little different each time I walk it, depending on the season and the level of moisture, but it is essentially the same, retaining its same stillness and constancy. The forest is dynamic and evolving, yet eternal and unwavering. One of the things I find meditative about hiking is the connection to all the other people who have walked these same trails, seen these same trees, and expressed the same awe of these mountains for hundreds of years. I was reminded of some of the other times in my life that I've hiked to Nambe Lake. It was one of the first hikes we did when we first moved to New Mexico, when we were still acclimating to the altitude as well as the culture. It was also where I took my brother hiking on his first trip to Santa Fe, long before any of us were married to our spouses.

The hike begins near the ski basin and follows the Winsor Trail into the Santa Fe National Forest, starting at around 10,000 feet elevation. After about an hour of hiking through the aspens and pines, the trail turns right and follows Nambe Creek up the mountain. There are many different options for trails along both banks of the creek, so each time I've done this hike I have followed a slightly different route. There are some sections where the creek is a roaring waterfall, blocking out all other sounds of the forest. Then in other sections the water is a meandering stream through swampy grass. There were signs of new life and spring blooms throughout the hike, which offers a glimmer of hope for the future in these challenging times. It's is still a few weeks too early to ideally do this hike, as there was still quite a bit of snow as I climbed toward the lake, but all of it was passable. The most relaxing part was that I did not encounter another person until I reached the lake. It's amazing that in this chaotic and overly crowded world, there are still places so spread out that I can be alone for hours in nature. I even forgot about coronavirus for a few minutes!

The climb becomes steeper and the air is noticeably thinner in the high elevation approaching the lake. There were definitely times that I thought I was lost. The snow covered the trail and the stream at times, and nothing looked familiar. At one point I fell through the snow and found myself in the middle of the creek. But just as I was starting to fatigue, telling myself the lake must be around here somewhere, I looked up and there it was. There's always this "ah ha!" moment when reaching Nambe Lake, when the trees and the boulders seem to part and suddenly the glistening, still lake is there in front of you. It's so beautiful and truly hard to describe. The serene water reflects the colossal mountain peaks that tower above it, and the only sound is that of the birds chirping. One of my favorite forms of meditation is tuning into the diversity of sound that exists in the forest. Our ears and brains are so accustomed to blocking out sounds that aren't important to us or that aren't changing, creating the illusion that the forest is quiet, but the symphony of nature is anything but quiet!