The time came to harvest the wheat. There were a couple other helping hands on the farm to try and beat the grain that was coming in. For example, while Daniel was in the field on the combine, we were racing to fix the auger and the door of the grain bin.
I got to drive the combine and collect a load of wheat to be dispensed into the truck. Seeing how these big farming machines work and just how simple they run is really neat. The combine looks scary to handle, but really it’s as easy as a car.
Field mice would scurry to find refuge as we, basically, ripped the roofs off of their homes.
In total, we harvested about 25 tons, or about 830 bushels, worth of wheat.
**On a side note, it is so strange to me that a “bushel” is weight-dependent on what is produced. For example, a bushel of corn is 56 lbs, while a bushel of wheat is 60 lbs.**
That’s not a bad harvest for the 60 acres we had it growing on. The leftover straw will be bailed and serve as compensation for people’s help on the farm and also be sold to the locals.
There’s also a neat little machine that can sort out the wheat from the other seeds, called a hi-cap cleaner, or high-capacity cleaning. It’ll continue to auger the wheat into another auger while the other seeds fall onto the ground to be shoveled into a bag. Other seeds include sunflower seeds, pigweed seeds, lambs quarters (wild quinoa), alfalfa seeds, and wild morning glory.
Mt. Blanca:
Just north of Questa lies Mount Blanca; a 14,000-foot beast of a mountain. Well, I wanted to hike this thing because why not. I’m here so I might as well. Daniel, very graciously, let me take one of the trucks for the hour-plus drive. I planned on camping at this lake on the mountain, Lake Como. It’s very common for hikers to camp there, and then hike up the last part the next day.
Right off the bat, I realized how difficult this was gonna be. Basically, I was hiking up loose gravel and stones on about a 30-degree incline for four miles. There’s a reason why not everyone does this.
Carrying my 50lb+ backpack made me feel like the guy rolling up the big stone up the hill – an icon and advocate of perseverance. I really had to think about persevering, because this was one of the most challenging things I have ever done. Every muscle in my leg got the workout of a lifetime and that means a lot coming from a soccer player. I’m still sore as I write this now; especially in the glutes.
It’s surprising even to me, but this was also my first time camping. My family loves the outdoors, but we have never gone camping. Anyway, I got the lowdown on the basics the nights before I departed. I think I did a pretty damn good job if I do say so myself.
Some reminders I had were:
- Hang up food so bears don’t get it
- Filter water from the stream
- Collect my trash (Leave no trace)
- Pack the bag correctly (Heaviest things closer to your spine)
- Cook food on a camping stove
- Stay dry as possible
Once you are beyond the road, little rock towers, called cairns, mark the trail. In the photo, you can see some in the background. They will lead you to the saddle. The saddle is this dip between Blanca Peak and Ellingwood Point.
It is unfortunate to say, but I did not summit Blanca Peak. I was grossly underprepared for the temperature near the peak. It was around 15 degrees with strong winds, a massive difference from the 50-degree temperature about 600 feet lower. I didn’t have any gloves and getting to the peak required scrambling, or using your hands to climb. On the other side of the ridge is a sheer cliff, so hikers must travel more towards the right. I called it quits when I realized that if I were to stumble on the steep boulders, my body was too cold to react fast enough to catch me.
Climbing down really was sad; I made it all that way and to not summit felt like a waste. However, I did make it that far with no real hiking experience whatsoever. And I can always try again another time in my life.
Sand Dunes:
Even after reaching close to the summit and trekking back down the mountain to my car, I was pumped to see the infamous sand dunes. After a couple stops, including one at McDonald’s to charge my phone, I embarked north towards the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, where the dunes lay.
These are the tallest sand dunes in North America and just like the mountains, the actual scale of the dunes is hard to tell from a distance. Awing at the sand piles up close really humbles a person. The sand stretches for over thirty miles. People enjoy picnics in the warm sand in between sledding sessions down the dunes.
There are also hot springs, swimming pools, and trails to hike in the vicinity, all tied to the dunes. I was pooped from the day, so I didn’t embark on any of these side trips. Frankly, I didn’t want to even think about hiking for a while.
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