My car was stuck on the road, and my tires were spinning in the snow. I had looked forward to snowshoeing all week, and I did not want to let some snow drifts get in my way. Still, I was apprehensive that I could summit La Mosca before dark in this much snow. My routine trip in the woods was quickly becoming a sticky situation.
I was not easily discouraged and rushed out onto the trail. A few minutes later, I patted my pockets, and my heart sank. I had left my sunglasses in the car, and I certainly did not want snow blindness. I went back quickly but lost 30 minutes of precious daylight. The sun sunk lower towards the horizon.
The silence of the woods was wonderful and was only broken by my heavy breathing. I fought through the two-to-threefoot snow drifts, and my cheeks flushed red with exhaustion. The trip was taking much longer than I had planned. My strength was fading, and the horizon started to glow orange from the upcoming sunset. Early in the day, I dreamed of a triumphant moment looking down on New Mexico from the La Mosca summit. I began to realize that my dream was more unlikely by the minute.
I finally admitted defeat and turned around. My boots were soggy, the travel was slow, and I had no desire to walk through the forest after dark. I found a pocket of phone service on the mountain and texted a friend the disappointing news. I hobbled down the trail, feeling like the day was a loss. I slumped into my car and was grateful to have heat on my feet and hands once more.
Although the day felt like a loss, it certainly could have ended worse. I texted a friend my whereabouts and had them ready to send help should anything go wrong. I wore proper winter clothes and walked back down without hypothermia or sunburn. More importantly, I listened to my physical limits and swallowed my pride when I could not make it to the top. As disappointed as I was to not make the summit, I lived to snowshoe another day. But little did I know, the biggest surprise was still ahead.
While driving down in silence, I saw yellow eye spots on my shoulder. I flipped on my brights and gaped at what I saw. A compact head, round little ears, and a brown fuzzy body with a black tipped tail. A mountain lion! The lion was just as shocked to see me and darted across the road into the darkness. I pulled onto the shoulder and lifted my shaky hands off the wheel. The rough day was forgotten, and excitement washed over me. In all my wandering, I had never seen such a beautiful creature.
Even the difficult days in the woods can end wonderfully. I started out on a snowshoeing trip and came home with a story I will never forget. I have already bored plenty of my friends by recounting my mountain lion story, and I am sure I will bore plenty more in the future. Taking the proper precautions can ensure a safe and enjoyable trip. Text a friend about your plans, bring proper gear for the weather, and always be realistic with your abilities. The local wilds of Mt Taylor and the Zuni Mountains are a great place to start your own adventure! So go into the woods fearlessly and boldly, but also safely.
Always remember, the best wilderness stories are the ones you make yourself.