I turned around and looked at the barn and the paddocks. I couldn’t see Shan or Bird but figured they were somewhere doing ranchy-type stuff. I didn’t want to bug them either.
A nice walk, alone, would do me good.
Though my skinny jeans weren’t exactly New Mexico material and they were already making me sweat, my long tank top was airy and at least I had piled sunscreen on my arms. I didn’t have a hat or water, but I did have a phone. And my Doc Martens were perfect for any potential ruggedness.
I looked up at the low ridges that snaked away from the back of the paddocks. There was something about those ridges that had looked so familiar from the moment I had arrived. I wanted to explore them, climb to the top to get a better look. Also, I had a strange affinity for climbing up low rugged hills. Something about an exposed landscape up close got me feeling so…free. So different from the dense, dark, tree-covered slopes back home.
I walked to the edge of the paddocks and assessed the best way up. It wasn’t steep at all, just a low, gradual slope through rock and the occasional cacti and scrubby brush until it flattened out amid some pine and junipers. If I followed the ridge along the trees to the left it eventually came to a clearing on a bluff. The view from that point would overlook the whole ranch, and maybe part of the town.
I walked up the hill, my footing slipping on rocks occasionally, but overall my boots held out. I kept looking behind me to make sure the house was still visible. If I just followed my route as planned, it would never leave my sight.
Sweat dripped off my face by the time I got to the ridge and I was grateful for the shelter that the sparse pines provided. It was cooler in the shade too, making the sweat on my back feel refreshing. I caught my breath and leaned against a tree. I was maybe 150 feet above the flatlands, not too shabby considering I got up there without an actual path.
Once my heart slowed to a reasonable rate, I walked along the ridge’s edge, weaving in and out among the trees and tracing the rocky slope which slowly took me higher and higher. It took a lot longer for me to get to the clearing than I had thought, maybe twenty minutes, but the trees finally ended and there was the flat butte thrusting out above the valley.
I walked across the butte and stopped near the edge. The wind had picked up, rushing across my body, and the view was stupendous. I could see the entire farm, now looking a lot smaller than before, like a Lego version of it. The sheep roamed the dry pastures below like tiny cotton balls. I could see the road leading away from the ranch and disappearing up and down as the undulating desert took it as far as the tiny dot of Red Fox on the horizon. Above that, the big sky enveloped everything, and I imagined I could see the curvature of the atmosphere, spreading from the jagged peaks of my right to the lower, smoother desert hills of my left.
I thought about bringing my phone out to take a photo but decided against it. No way would that camera do this scene justice. No camera could. I just had to commit the sight and feeling to memory and hope it lasted.
I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. I really did feel a million times better than earlier and I was so thankful that I took the time to be by myself and regroup. I wasn’t used to being around people all the time. Up here, on this mesa, I felt real freedom. Miles of open desert, blue sky and intense sunlight that made me feel like anything was possible. I wanted to keep that feeling in me forever.
I smiled to myself and opened my eyes. I looked around for a tree stump or a rock I could sit down on, so I could take everything in and just meditate. But the ground here was plain, rough and dusty and the concept of scorpions, snakes and spiders was creeping at the back of my head.
The butte sloped off to the left and led back towards a few more clearings surrounded by forest. The rocks over by the base of another ridge looked promising.
I skid down the slope a bit, the tops of my boots filling up with red dirt, and darted between a few jagged edges. I reached the rocks by the ridge but they were a lot pointier up close and there were far too many dark and creepy cave-like holes between them.
I looked up the ridge. If I could just climb up the rocks – providing they didn’t roll away from under me – I would make it to the next ridge. Who knew what I’d see from that vantage point?
I paused and looked behind me. I couldn’t see the valley anymore, at least not where the farm was. So much for not letting the ranch leave my sight.
A tiny, uneasy feeling nagged at the back of my head. But that was the adventure, wasn’t it? I’d just have to tell it to shut up. I was in exploration mode and I couldn’t quit now. I’d quit at the top. That’s it.
I looked at my phone for the time: 11AM. Dex had been gone an hour but there was no way he could be back already. I had more than enough time to climb up there, take a look around, then climb back down and head back to the farm before anyone worried about me.
Feeling better about it, I rubbed my hands on my jeans, made sure my phone was secure, and made a go for it.
I stepped up on the rock and made a grab for the next one. I tried hard not to look through the cobwebby, dark spaces in between and kept my eyes focused on the ridge ahead. Two hands, two feet, onto the next rock.
Soon I was stepping off the last rock and onto the flatter ridge. I got to my feet and looked around, feeling like Sir Edmund Hilary. The view from up here was even better and the valley sprawled out in front of it like a patched quilt. To my surprise there was some sheep below as well. I guess the Lancaster’s had more land that I thought.
I walked to the edge and looked down. There was another plateau about ten feet below which fed into the treeline leading down to the valley.
There was something on that plateau, though, that caught my eye. There was a strange, dark area on the dirt with a lot of shuffled earth around it. I put my hand up to my forehead to shield the sun and squinted.
SQUAWK!
BAM!
Something hit me on the back of the head with frightening speed. My skull was scraped. I wheeled around to see a blur of black feathers and sky.
The impact knocked me off balance and I put my left leg back. There was no stability. It sank into the slope and I fell backwards.
I smashed onto it, feeling the sharp rocks and sticks poking mercilessly into my back, and tumbled for a few dizzying feet, like a child rolling down a grassy hill. Then the rolling stopped and I was airborne for what felt like a very long time. No thoughts came into my head except the fear that I would be dead when I hit the ground.
I struck the ground with my left shoulder which sent a shockwave of brutal, nauseating pain all the way to my legs, which slammed the ground like a slab of meat.