The morning after our first real downpour of the monsoon, was cloudy, cool and the first day in weeks it seemed okay to get out in the desert for a few hours. It was humid for sure, but bearable. Instead of being hot and not sweating, I was sweating but not feeling hot. I roamed around on detached ridge that lies southwest of the main body of the range, and southeast of its only named peak, Reichey Butte.
It was pretty easy walking on soft ground as I made my way further and further to the southwest terminus and the highest point of the mile long ridge which rises a modest 250 feet above the desert floor. I scanned boulders and cliffy outcrops for rock art. Did plenty of gravel gazing too in hopes of seeing an artifact or two.Nothing to report. Returned through a little valley that headed northwest back to my vehicle. Cattle ran at my approach, but one lizard stayed perfectly still. A small stand of ocotillo had done their rapid transition to green trick. I kept it short, under three miles.
Two drawbacks: the never ending gunfire at the Butterfield Shooting Range and the thick adobe mud that stuck to my wheel wells like cement. I went to carwash the next day. I always feel guilty about abusing the " NO HEAVY MUD WASHING" signs that every single facility in Las Cruces posts, then I saw the chunks of mud in every single bay, and thought, it's probably not a reasonable expectation for Las Cruces.
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