The Mountains Grow Cold at Night

drifters
Written By Haden Knobloch

At around 4:00 a.m., out of fear of losing our toes, we started a fire.

Ty was the first one to dash out of the tent and towards the fire pit, grabbing what sticks he could. Cody and I snagged a lantern and lighter fluid as we followed. 

Two minutes later, we had our socks as close to the five-foot flame as we could; even catching our feet on fire would somehow beat another minute in our giant, plastic bag of a tent. The four of us laughed until the sun made it over the mountains towering over our camp. Perhaps, we bit off more than we could chew. 

We came up with the idea to go camping in January. Originally, I wanted to plan a big trip up to Yellowstone National Park, but we chose to stick closer to Texas so we’d have more time to enjoy the outdoors instead of driving. Southern Colorado or Northern New Mexico it was, and we started an outline of what the trip would look like. 

For a while, it seemed like the trip wouldn’t be anything more than a good idea. The ins and outs of everyday life pushed our escape from the urban world further into the backs of our minds.

The week before spring break, we put everything aside and laid out a plan, only to realize many sites we were interested in were booked up. Our only option was to roll the dice and stay at one of the first come, first serve spots in Southwest New Mexico. Our shot in the dark paid off, fortunately, but last-minute planning left us wishing we brought wool socks and more layers.

No matter what the problem was, we found a way to work around it. I’ll forever remember the feeling of being a traveler with no real destination in mind, only a desire for an experience. We hiked two formidable mountains simply because they happened to be in our line of sight (the first was more rock climbing towards the end). We tracked a group of mule deer up the second one and at the top, watched a Golden eagle soar overhead and into the valley. 

Within the confines of the next day, we packed up all our gear and drove out to White Sands National Park where we played some of the best Spikeball games I’ve been a part of, took much-needed showers at a truck stop in Las Cruces, and drove up Interstate 25 to Gila National Park without knowing our campsite (fortunately, we found a great spot before sundown). 

We drove an hour-and-a-half through winding mountain roads in search of a hot spring, but then were told rivers in the area weren’t safe to swim across, so we spent the afternoon skipping rocks on a river bank. 

Our setbacks and change-of-plan moments on our spring break camping trip are not what I’ll remember most fondly. 

I’ll think of all the late night talks around the campfire and the silent moments we shared looking up at the stars. 

I’ll think of how we all felt the spirit of the Earth around us and for a few days in the middle of the desert, nothing else in our lives mattered. All we had to do was be present in the moment and let nature lead the way to our next adventure. We’re getting older and life is moving faster and faster — we can combat that looming feeling by filling as much of our time with memories like these. 

A remnant of us was left out West and I’d like to think it’s now a part of that world out there. I could write another 10 pages describing every moment: the cool air breathing down our necks at night, the desert highways falling into the horizon, the glowing night sky — no picture or paragraph can do it justice. If you read this and don’t understand what I’m talking about, it’s because that feeling is something that needs to be experienced, more than simply read. It’s something I hope everyone can go out and do, and I’m sure you could do a hell-of-a-lot better at planning it than we did. 

Photos by Haden Knobloch
Haden Knobloch
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