Mount Taylor, Continental Divide

I arrived in Pie Town in the early afternoon, planning my walk to have enough time to visit this hospitable little spot. Pie Town is famous for its pies, of course, and after a week or so of porridge sachets, energy bars and instant coffee, I was looking forward to a warm dessert topped with rich vanilla ice cream, served with a cup of fresh, strong, real coffee.

Hikers need about 5000-7000 calories a day when tackling the Continental Divide, so I made sure to really treat myself when I arrived at the Pie-o-Neer pie shop. I ordered a cherry pie and a cup of coffee. The perfect flaky pastry crumbled underneath my fork as the cherries, in their ruby-red syrup, mixed with the white ice cream. 

After a night spent in a hotel in town, I hitched my backpack once again and set off into the wilderness. The landscape here returned to the rugged, rocky barrenness of the desert, with only the red sandstone bluffs and mesas to keep me company. I walked in their shadow until I began to notice all kinds of strange rocky formations all around. I’d arrived at the El Malpais National Monument. 

This area is described by the US National Park Foundation as the land of frozen fire. It’s the remains of a volcanic plain that formed hundreds of millions of years ago when this part of New Mexico was a volcanic zone. The now-ex

nd paying mindful attention to how the colours of the landscape changed as the day aged — from the soft peachy hues of the morning, and the deep golden yellows of midday, to the rich bronze of sunset, and the light blues of dusk. As the inky blackness of night set in, I set up my camp and lay beneath the vast New Mexico sky, threaded through with more stars than I’d ever seen on any night before.

The next day, I began to sense another incline and rejoiced as trees (and shade!) began to appear once again. I had reached the slopes of Mount Taylor. This is a sacred place to the local Navajo Nation, who refer to it as Tsoodził, or the Turquoise Mountain, as it marks one of the cardinal points and boundaries of the tribe’s traditional homeland, the Dinétah. The mountain is a challenging ascent, reaching 11,305 ft (3,446 m) in elevation. I struggled up the slopes, enjoying the beautiful pine forest, but sweating with my big backpack weighing me down. When I eventually reached the top, the endless blue sky stretched out, and below was the grandeur of the New Mexico desert, the CDT laid out for me like a map.