Trail Mojo

“I am being kicked out of the house. I am going to make a winter attempt at collecting the Trail Mojo Talisman.

I must gear up. :>D”

“This sounds strangely familiar.”

“HUH?”

“good luck finding it in the snow”

“Disaster Narrowly Averted.

Bullwinkle: Watch out for that tree.......!

Rocky: Bullwinkle, that's "George of the Jungle" not "Rocky and Bullwinkle"


The day was gorgeous. What was socked in with clouds last week, was clear and sunny yesterday. It was 12F when I got up the tram to the trailhead, 11:30 and 10F when I finished at 6:30.

I head out pretty much the same way I went on New Years Day on the Ellis Trail, but cut down a steep section of the 10K Trail instead of heading up to the overlook. The Ellis trail skiing was perfect. Only a single snowshoer and a couple of skiers had been out that way, about 4" of fresh powder on the packed snow. I had some fanstastic runs.

Going east on the 10K trail section, though is very steep and I had to tranverse back and forth through the deep powder and trees. Still, I got down to the Osho Loop Trailhead withing an hour of leaving the Tram Terminal. I thought that was doing pretty good. The Mojo was strong.

The Osha Loop Trail was untracked powder. Not a soul had been on it, maybe not all winter. Unfortunately, it is not marked above the snowline. I was able to follow it for a bit downhill, but then lost it when I had to traversed down a steeper section through the trees. I knew I didn't want to get too far downhill, so I bushwacked through the trees. I was still great skiing. At one point I came to a place I thought I could recognize on my map, and determined the trail must be below me about a hundred yards.

I carried my skis directly down the fall line, with some trepidation. I knew that if I was wrong, I was going to have to bushwack back up the slope. Fortunately, I was right on! The Mojo was working!

The Osho Loop trail from that point was wonderful skiing. The untracked powder kept it slow, and it had gently rolling ups and down, nothing to steep. The only question was whether I had missed the location of the Talisman in my bushwhacking.

I did. But I could still feel the Mojo. I reached the junction with Penasco Blanca and Osha Spring Trails and knew exactly where I was. I had hiked this section last summer, and was withing 100 yards of where I discovered the Talisman.

Backtracking on the Osha Loop, I put my climbing skin on, I knew I was going to be climbing for a while. I looked for my camping spot where I had left the Talisman. It was marked by a nearby outcropping of limestone and a relatively flat area with some underbrush and oaks. I passed a couple of places that weren't quite right. I knew I could recognize the spot where I hung my food and cooked. It was so close, I could feel it in my bones.

Sure enough, I had passed it and found the cooking spot. I knew it was 50 paces back, and so I marked it off. There it was! I recognized my tent spot!

It looked so different though. I couldn't see the grassy area where I had put my tent or the limestone shelves where I thought the Talisman would be. I could see the hummock of brush, though, where I had draped my tent and bag in the sun, before packing.

I used my ski to probe throught the 2 ft depth of snow and found the limestone. Up and down the length of it I cleared the snow. Every once in a while, I would hit a smaller piece of limestone, and get a small thrill, thinking it was the Talisman. I was withing a couple of yards of it. I KNEW it! I dug around, along a ten yard length of the limestone outcropping. Nothing. After about an hour, I gave up. I would have to wait till spring to find the Talisman. But the Mojo was strong, I knew that I could find its hiding spot again, and headed back on the Osha Loop again.

The skiing was still great. I left my skins on, helping me climb and keeping me under good control on steeper, narrow sections. I got to the intersection of the 10K trail and decided the take it back. I had read that it was a difficult trail, but the Mojo was strong wasn't it? Little did I know, that it was too strong!

It was about 4:00 by now, the sun was getting low, but the light was still good. The lenticular clouds overhead glowed first yellow, then pink from the sun.

The 10K was challenging, but not too bad. Until I reached a section with a warning sign, meaning steep/caution. I peered down the trail. No way did I want to just head straight down. I traversed through the woods just as I had all day.

Crossing back and forth, across the trail, I came a section that I thought was skiable, and headed down. Too fast! The snowshoers had been all along here and the trail was packed. I

picked up too much speed and didn't know if I could make the turn. Using one of my stopping techniques, I skied into the powder on the side of the trail. BIG mistake! I hit a log covered by snow, there wasn't enough snow to cover the detritus on the side of the trail. The log was windfall that had crossed the trail, and had been cut.

I slid into the log, my knee hitting the cut end hard. Sonova ..., sonaova ..... Was my leg broken? Before I checked out my leg I notice my right thumb was bent backwards at the big knuckle. Reflexively, I pulled on my thumb and reduced the dislocation. I felt it quickly, and didn't think it was broken. I turned my attention to my leg. The knee hurt terribly, but everything seemed to be in place. I moved it gingerly. It worked. I carefully stood up. It could bear weight. I picked up my skiis and poles and walked down the trail chanting of mantra of "Sonova..., Sonova ....

My thumb still hurt tremendously. When I gripped my pole it tried to dislocate again. Don't want that to happen!

I reach a skiable portion of the trail and decide to give it a try. I know I can't afford another fall and take it very easy. When I reach another caution sign, I take may skis off and walk down. Eventually I make it to the 10K intersection with the road.

It's a mile or so hike up to the Service Road and then an easy mile ski back to the tram. The sun is setting and the winds have picked up. I'm plenty warm, have my survival items in my pack, but shudder to think of spending the night on the trail with a broken leg.

Nobody is on the trail now. The service road is empty as I ski back. I reach the tram terminal uneventfully and consider getting a couple of shots at the High Finance Restaurant and Bar, but decide to head down. I've had enough excitement. I still haven't had a chance to check out my leg. It feels like I have an abrasion, but no laceration, and that turned out to be the case.

This morning, my right knee is a little stiff, and my right thumb is black and blue-stiff but functional.

I can't believe how fortunate I was. Yes, the Mojo was strong, but I didn't realize it was strong enough to be dangerous!!!!”

“Vann--you are so strong to do all of that in one day. How do you stay in such good shape with a sit down job?

Nice reading--again. MP”

“I'm not in very good shape, really. I just keep plugging away. The beauty of skiing is the glide. It is amazing how much ground you can cover.”

“Tell me about the Mojo-what is the legend?

Signed-
Ignorant east of the Mississippi Flatlander”

“Last summer there was a thread on Trail Mojo, which I take to mean Trail Magic, just before I went on an overnighter. On the trail I found this magnificent crystal formation(quartz?). On my return, I proposed it was a manifestation of Trail Mojo.

Crystal

Being the compulsive rule follower that I am, I was torn. I didn't want to leave it for some other jerk to take, but I didn't feel right about taking it home. So I left it in a place that nobody would ever happen upon by accident, but where I could find it (except when covered by two feet of snow!). I had recently scouted out the ski routes, to see if it was possible to get back there for a winter overnight, and I had the opportunity to do some more scouting yesterday.

I was trying to decide what to call it. It's not really Trail Mojo, that would be something impalpable, so I call it the Talisman-a physical manifestation of Trail Mojo.

So, you see. Just some silliness for fun. ;-D”

“That is some seriously cool silliness. Great write-up. It's good you weren't hurt worse. The Trail Mojo truly was strong.”

“Yes, I thought this might have something to do with those 'trail diamonds'. Glad to hear you're still in one piece... but it sounds like you might have to hitchhike with your other thumb for a while, *G*.”

“I put up a few photos. I tried to photo my thumb, but it was out of focus, so I scanned it.

Winter Talisman Trek”

“LOL! My grandma has never been able to get hers in focus either! Great pics. I love the one looking up through the trees.”

“Great writeup, Vann! Glad you made it out in one piece. I just got a book on backcountry skiing and it showed cartoons of how the knee takes impact (broken egg, scooper, etc) when hitting a log or whatever.

Be careful out there! Yeah, look who's talking....”

“Thumbs looking ugly but feeling better. Swelling is going down, too. I think working the keyboard and mouse are good physical therapy!”

“The planets and stars must have been aligned. My teen sons were docile; the six year old spending the day and night with a friend. My wife was restless and wanted to go for a drive. “Want to drive up to the Sandias? You can drop me off at the trailhead and pick me up at the other end tomorrow.” “Sure she says, how long will it take you to get ready?’’ In 30 minutes we were on the road.

It wasn’t till then that we noticed that the Sandias were capped in dense clouds. So what, I’m prepared. The 45-minute drive up is as beautiful as always, I haven’t done the drive in a long, long time. I usually approach from the West. We get to the trailhead and it starts to rain. It hails a little. It pours. We eat our picnic lunch in the car and I finish packing my gear (after using the ajgoodkids “throw it all in, figure out what you want at the trailhead” method) under the tailgate. I get my raingear on, my pack covered and set off. It stops raining. The Mojo is strong!

I follow the 10K trail and see only 3 people all afternoon. It is a glorious afternoon, with the scent of the forest after rain, and the summer wildflowers coming out after the long dry spell. The weather threatens now and then, but never rains on me. I’ve got rain pants on, but unzipped on the sides for ventilation. The trail is so muddy, I’m glad for the pants. I reach the trail junction in good time. I should be able to locate the Mojo Talisman in easy time before dark, and go on to a good campsite on another trail I’d like to scout. The trail where I left the Talisman is not very long, but the hiding place is a very nondescript site, chosen for that reason, a spot nobody would find by accident while hiking. To find the Talisman, they would have to know its exact location.

The problem is, I also have trouble locating it. I can picture it in my mind, but pass by it unknowing. I reach the next trail junction and I know I’ve gone too far. I decide to ditch my tent, sleeping bag, extra water and other nonessentials to lighten my pack, and go back. The weather is threatening again, so I cover my things with my ground cloth. I’m feeling ready to make camp, but I can’t stand the thought of not finding the Talisman again.

As I hike back, thunderstorms are growing and the lightening and thunder close in. I don’t want to miss the hiding place again. As I hike, I picture the spot in my mind. I see several similar spots, but no, they weren’t the right. Suddenly, I know I’ve gone too far again, and reach the trail intersection that proves so. Arggghh...

I double back, toward my desired camp spot, determined to find the Talisman this time. Big drops begin to fall and the thunderstorm is directly overhead. The storm intensifies until the trail is running like a small stream. The thunder and lightening become a constant, and oddly enough, circular. I can hear the thunder tracing a circuitous path directly above me. The Mojo is indeed strong! I finish half the length of the trail and I know I am close. I see a spot I recognize, where I hung my food last time. I count off 100 paces. Yes, this is the right spot. I look off trail and see the small nondescript clearing. I recognize my tent spot. The rain is pouring straight down, the thunder and lightening circling directly above my head and I see it. Sitting on the limestone block, exactly where I left it nearly a year ago, where it lay hidden from even me all winter, under the snow. I grab it and head back down the trail, slipping and sloshing along, the thunder and lightening falling behind me, but the rain pouring down relentlessly. Setting up my tentshould be fun, but I was grinning from ear to ear. I’d found it!”

“Cool deal Pathman..”

“I started my own little trail magick today..I have this tiny vial being held by a fairy..I filled it with Earth from a cave in Indiana..the first place Crazy Mike and I hiked together..
I found this really energy emitting tree today on top of Grandfather Mtn ..I mixed in the Indiana Earth with North Carolina Earth and put it back in my vial..from now on..Ill have a piece of Earth from every place I hike..
but the Earth from Indiana will always hold special magick for me.”

“Splendid!

Seem to recall that you mentioned it has been pretty dry. The downpour must've been welcomed.”