Exploring the Caja

Field Day #2 - Exploring the Caja

April 26, 2016 - Julie, Will, and I decided to make a day out of exploring the Caja, an 84,000 acres volcanic field about 20 miles west of Santa Fe, New Mexico. Before anyone gets any delusions of grandeur of spewing cones of molten lava or deadly plumes of gaseous sulphur dioxide...STOP.

The mother volcano, a beast of a formation northwest of the Caja, erupted approximately 1.4 million years ago, so to say the area is relatively tame from a volcanic standpoint is a gross understatement. I am sure many geologist would argue that point with me but they look at geologic time in a much different way. What looks like an incredible flurry of geologic activity to them looks like a canyon full of black rocks to me. Fortunately for us, we both see the same canyon as stunningly beautiful.

Our objective for the day however, was not to look at rocks. Rather, we were hoping to find another owl. This time, it was a western burrowing owl and there was going to be no "mousing" involved. For the non-birders like me, western burrowing owls are the owls you see, usually in pictures albeit, using the hollowed out remains of old abandoned prairie dog towns. And if you do not know what mousing means, well, you will just have to read about Field Day #1.

Julie, an incredible naturalist and superb "ologist" in every way, had spotted the rare visitor last year. It was the first known instance of that species on the Caja so documenting its return would be a great thing. And just in case we had an uncooperative bird who didn't want to show, we would take a trek into the Santa Fe gorge to look for another elusive creature, the northern leopard frog. Hey! I am living in New Mexico, amphibians and desert don't mix!

Guess what?

Examination of owl pellets reveals a healthy diet of stinkbugs.

The bird was a no show. It was probably due to the high winds and below normal temperatures we were experiencing but all was not lost. We did find a burrow with ample owl sign, feathers and pellets and such, so things are looking up for a return of the owls to the Caja. So instead of being sandblasted by the winds on the Caja we decided to drop down into the gorge to see if we could find some frogs.


What a difference it made. Descending just below the rim of the mesa, the winds ceased and the radiant heat from the sun warmed our faces. The descent down the rocky trail undoubtedly got our juices flowing as well.

It was such a joy to hike with other naturalists who like to stop periodically to identify plants and animals and pretty much ask lots of questions. It is not only good for the brains it is good for the lungs which I find nowadays to be starved oxygen on these high mountain adventures. On the way back UP the trail I am already planning a series of questions so I can strategically catch my breath.

A vibrant village thrived at this very site over 1,000 years ago.

As we descend further into the rift below the thin line of greenery catches my eye and I stop to admire how valuable the water resource is in this otherwise barren area. It signifies life. The long time inhabitants of this area were extremely intelligent and resourceful beings since, unbeknownst to me, I am staring at the remains of an old Native American village. I only know this since it was pointed out to me by my hiking mates. What's even more special is that it is not cordoned off nor are there any signposts pointing the way. The village lies hidden beneath the history of time only covered by ignorance and apathy from the average "tourist". And for that I am grateful.

I couldn't help but feel I was treading on sacred ground.

In a field of volcanic rock I am awestruck at petroglyphs that still abound, lonely and untouched, within this vast landscape. Only later after showing the pictures to our archaeologist will I find out that these works of art were created somewhere around 900 A.D. As I walk it is humbling and in some ways awkward, a guilty feeling pervades as if I am trespassing on sacred ground.

The floor of the canyon does not disappoint as the meandering river serves as an oasis to most of the wildlife in the area. Birds, mammals and amphibians abound along the river and I take furious notes on all the different species we encounter. It's embarrassing having to ask so many questions but in my defense most of these species are new to me. I was okay with most of the birds which included a myriad of horned larks, a beautiful kestrel, and the cliffside nest of a golden eagle. Where I truly faltered however were the plants. Snake weed, Buffalo grass, chamissa, locoweed, chocolate flower, perky sue, orange globe mallow, and three-leaf sumac were not typically found in my old stomping grounds. Hopefully soon I'll get to know them by heart.

But alas...no leopard frogs.

As we make the slow question-filled ascent to our awaiting vehicle I can't help but feel an urge to be thankful for living in an area so beautiful and so rich in life, both in the blatant present and the hidden past. It's like the secret I can't wait to tell but hesitant to reveal.

I tell you what, you come out here and I may show you the secrets but until then, I am quite content with apathy and ignorance.

Other petroglyphs from the day...

Wondering about all the sites I missed yet for once I am content to be ignorant.