Stealth Camping Santa Fe

I left the CDT near the Colorado/New Mexico border and headed into Chama. Tired of the constant wind that felt like hungry ghosts demanding to be acknowledged. Worn out from what that does to my nervous system.

I not-so-stealth camped in front of the senior center in the middle of town, long past the point where I worried about being discovered. Resisting the cartoonish frame of mind that existing in society seemed to require.

I was up above it, now I’m down in it.

It would take two local buses to get to Santa Fe, a few bucks to cover a hundred miles. Something that felt criminally underpriced.

Santa Fe is not my favorite place. I was out of town almost as soon as I’d arrived, taking the free 255 bus to the Winsor Trail near the Vista Grande Overlook.

Once I stepped off the pavement, silence returned, even if it had been fading the entire ride. The trees blocked much of the view, but stopped the wind.

I was alone, again, in view of a city that didn’t know I existed.

Back above it.

I stayed there as the sun set, watching the lights come up. Colorful and beautiful, shimmering in the heat rising out of the valley.

From up there, it was easy to forget everything I disliked about being down there. From a distance, it was beautiful.

For all the ways I’d felt alienated from humanity, there was something magical about it. A hundred thousand little lives, glowing in the valley. 

I didn’t feel better than them.

I felt lonely.

For the first time in a long time, I felt like I might be ready to go back down.

Not because I’d figured out how to become one of them.

Because I wanted to be around people again.

To do what I could.

To connect.

#wandering #stealthcamping #NIN