Petrified Forest

There's nothing like being gently woken up by the sound of a hundred trucks leaving a Travel Centre first thing in the morning. Due to the many road closures overnight, many, MANY truckers chose to overnight at the Love's, so the noise of engines revving, ratchet straps clicking, brakes testing - well, let's just say that if we weren't already waking up early, we certainly wouldn't be sleeping in! Upon glancing outside, it seems that the sun is trying to come out, so it will be a good day to get in some hiking at Petrified Forest National Park, and maybe get to see more of the brilliant colours of the Painted Desert we have been looking for! It's a cold one, though, so first a warm bowl of oatmeal, a hot coffee, and then we are on the road bright and early to get to the park before the sun runs away again!

We head to the South entrance - it may be farther, but all of the good hiking trails are on that end, whereas the easy pull-offs and viewpoints are quickly accessible from the north, where we were yesterday. First things first, I make sure to collect my National Parks "Passport" stamp at the the Visitor's Centre, where we meet up with the same Ranger we talked to last night, and share overlanding stories with her. Outside, the sun is still out, but the wind is howling - it makes enjoying the trails a little more challenging. 

We head out back of the Visitor's Centre to the Giant Logs loop, and watch as people come out, almost run through the trail, and then head to the cafe for warm drinks! Bundled up in all our winter gear, we are ready for this weather, and make a point of stopping at each of the information points to learn about the creation of this area, and how these petrified logs were made. Mario narrates our walk from the information booklet, reading in an over-exaggerated Newscaster voice and I laugh. Did we learn anything? Maybe, maybe not - but was it ever fun. We also met "Major Domo", the largest petrified log in the park, also lovingly called "Old Faithful" as it is to this park what the Old Faithful Geyser is to Yellowstone.

Next stop, the Long Logs trail, a paved walk winding its way through the landscape, snaking in between some of the longest "intact" specimens of petrified logs in the park. And they are getting longer - the badlands of this area are in a constant state of erosion, so the logs are becoming slowly more exposed to the elements, and snapping into sections, like snapping a piece of chalk. These sections then roll down the butte in the desert, accumulating in the valleys, creating the park we see. 

What's especially interesting is the composition of the logs. Okay, time for a little science. This area of New Mexico was once a river, surrounded by large trees. As the trees fell into the river, they floated downstream to this place, where a logjam formed of all the super large trunks. Eventually the river dried and the logs became incased in silt which became sandstone. The logs, however, began to decompose, their cellular structure being slowly replaced by the minerals in the ground water. But the minerals replaced the cells of the wood exactly as they were, copying one-for-one the shape of every nook and cranny of the logs. Centuries of erosion eventually wore away the sandstone to slowly reveal the shapes of the logs, now entirely made of mineral-rich stone instead of wood, and in all sorts of colours depending on the minerals. Hence the name "Petrified Forest". 

Check out the bark!

We are really blown away with how closely the logs ressemble wood, often in shape and texture, and sometimes even in colour. One particularly large piece had crumbled into smaller chunks that look like wood chips, as though someone has been sawing firewood. Another is so finely detailed, we can see where the bark of the tree loosened off of the trunk inside, leaving a space, and even where pockets of some prehistoric moss had nestled itself into the rough crevices of the tree's exterior.

Crystal Forest is more of the same, smooth rolling path among the logs, but now the wind is biting, and snow flakes fly past our faces. We pull up our scarves, pull down our tuques. This area is supposed to be magically in the sun, when the light catches the crystaline structures of the quartz, just not today, not with these clouds. We reach Agate Bridge, a log traversing a river that has been shored in place with concrete over 100 years ago, just as the snow begins flying, painfully hitting our faces and obstructing the vistas of the Painted Desert all around us. Next to us, a family pours out of their mini-van, more people that I think should be seats, the kids shrieking at the pain of the ice pellets hitting their faces. We watch them all pose in front of the bridge, kids and parents and grandparents and little dog too, then again in front of the gateway shelter with the information panels. The kids run for the truck while mom yells for just one more picture. We laugh and head down the road.

We stop for the best hike of the park at Blue Mesa. At this area, all of the minerals in the ground have a purple-blue tint to them, and are layered so finely together that we feel we are walking through a valley of purple-blue striped shirts! But the snow is swirling in the air, and as we park, everyone else is doing the drive-by viewing of the area, so we have the entire trail to ouselves! And imagine, just at the bottom of the steep descent into the valley, the snow lets up, and the wind dies, and we are treated to a very rare view of the Blue Mesa coated in a layer of white. It is magnificent, and eerily quiet, too. We enjoy every moment of the stillness. Soon, the sun pokes through the clouds and begins to melt the snow, and soon, people begin to stream onto the trail. The runoff rivers flow heavy with water the colour of chocolate milk, or maybe cafe au lait. 

We take refuge for lunch in the campervan, our little sanctuary from the cold, the wind, the outside world. I make California rolls again while Mario plots our route to get to Santa Fe tonight. We opted to stick around here and enjoy the park all morning, and drive later in the day to get to Santa Fe. Since we have a campsite reserved, we won't have to be searching for a place to sleep in the dark. Then we continue on through the rest of the park, doing like all the others and viewing the sights from the warmth and safety of our vehicle. 

We see the wonders of petroglyphs scratched onto the dark surface of the Newspaper Rock. We weave our way along the road between the Teepees, some particularly pointy butte formations. We stop briefly to walk among the restored walls of Puerco Pueblo, a community home built of stone, a large courtyard ringed by square dwellings to protect from the winds, kivas dug into the ground to store supplies and protect from the sun. Too bad they can't protect us from the winds today! We then make our way past the viewpoints from yesterday, catching some glimpses of their colourful glory as the sun hits the stones. And then we are out of the park, and back on the I-40, and making our way towards Santa Fe.

The rest of the evening is a little harrowing. The I-40 into New Mexico is some of the worst highways we've been on this trip. Add to that the fact that the wicked winds are back, as well as some blowing snow, and drivers who apparently don't know how to slow down in inclement weather - we pass 2 accidents within 2 minutes of entering the state. We are glad to leave the I-40 behind and start heading into the mountains towards Santa Fe. That is, until we see where we had to drive to get to our campground. Turns out, the campsite is an RV park, but halfway up the road to a ski hill, at 2700 m in elevation. The road is covered in snow, though cleaned and sanded, and the switchbacks are very curvy. The snow accumulation on the surrounding pine trees is several inches thick and sticking nicely, which is pretty, but not good for driving in a campervan. 

We make it to the campground and into our site. I walk out into a foot of snow and attempt to plug in - at least we have an electrical hook-up for extra heat tonight. But the thought of navigating down that hill, with no snow tires, weights constantly on my mind for the rest of the night, and I am not even the one who's driving! Mario seems calmer, noting that fact that there is a very popular ski resort higher up, so the roads will be kept clean for the customers. We even hear many cars driving up and down the steep roadway, in addition to a plow or two passing in the night(when you live in Quebec, your hearing is attuned to these things). Mario insists that with a little sun and heat tomorrow, the roadway will clear up nicely, and it will be smooth sailing to get back into Santa Fe. I certainly hope so, because we booked 2 nights up here!