The River Over the High Valley, the Mountains of Mid-January

After my bilious last post, let’s chill.

My tires, brand new as of last September, were all but flat on the passenger side earlier this month. It turns out that leaving my Jeep parked in the same position with only one side facing the sun in sub-freezing, sometimes sub-zero Fahrenheit temperatures will do that. After pushing a small stack of quarters into the air pump at the gas station down the road and getting all four back up to specs, I resolved I should take off in the peak heat of each day to warm the vehicle and its tires on the high-speed parts of the road on either side of the town where I live.

I drove west out of town and turned around on the cemetery road. Blanca Massif stood tall and proud, magnified from 50-60 miles away as I drove back in.

It’s made for a nice, relaxing break in the middle of the day. If I get a notion to explore, I might run into something worth photographing.

I knew I’d gone a little far north on the country road when I encountered the frozen remains of the fourth longest river in North America. I turned around and took these photos.

Squinting back towards the source of the mighty Rio Grande in the San Juan Mountains.

I passed by this view of Blanca Massif on my way back to federal highway.

Zooming in on one of the four mountains sacred to the Navajo Indians. Which one is Mount Blanca, I couldn’t tell you. It’s mashed in there with at least three other mountains of 14K elevation plus numerous lower peaks.