L&Js, Organ Mountains, White Sands, and a sad anniversary

I got the day off today, but I knew it would be difficult anyway, being the one year anniversary of my dad's death.

Even the last few days, the stark difference between this year and last, while we sat at my father's bedside, was hard to ignore.

So I knew I needed to do something today that would be enjoyable but also would allow me a little time to honor Dad.

Two other ladies had the day off with me, so we made a plan to go to a famous El Paso restaurant and then go to two hiking places: Organ Mountains Desert Peak and White Sands National PARK (it just got upgraded!).

First stop: food. The place has been in the family for generations and is an institution. 
I ordered queso fundido for the table- something I hadn't had since I was a teenager when our family visited Tulúm, and green chili chicken enchiladas. It was delicious and a ton of food for a good price. L and J's Cafe lived up to the hype.

From there we headed to Dripping Springs in the Organ Mountains. Organ Mountains was named back in the 1600s by early Spanish settlers due to the jagged peaks' resemblance to a pipe organ.

Me, Elissa, and Alison at Organ Mountains Desert Peak

We hiked up into Dripping Springs, a botanically diverse spot with a natural spring that has been home to a mining area, a resort, and a tuberculosis sanitarium at different points in its history. It feels surprisingly lush- with trees, bushes, and even ivy and ferns. It also feels a bit lonely- it's easy to imagine how remote this must have felt, before Las Cruces was a city, before cars.



From the Organ Mountains, we headed through military testing land up to White Sands. Part missile testing area, part recreational, the white sand dunes expand over 250 square miles. The dunes are in a basin that is on top of a layer of clay, so only a foot or two underneath the dune is a water table- pretty shocking in the huge, seeming desolate desert. The sand is gypsum, not silica, and thus it reflects lights and heat and stays cool to the touch even in hot weather. Today, it was fairly cool and sprinkling, so it was harder to notice. But the fine damp gypsum felt more like the special kind of kinetic sand than beach sand. And it is a stunning white.



We took sleds to sled down the dunes. How rare it is for us adults to really play- and that's absolutely what it was-truly playing.

I had brought a rose to place at the park in memory of my dad, and after some sledding walked out on my own to find a quiet spot. I sat there, and thought of him, and how much he would have liked this, and how I miss him, but how I also accept that he has moved on and that my life will always be different. 

We took a sunset hike with a volunteer guide. There wasn't really a sunset, but the guide explained some things that I think are pertinent to that idea of acceptance and adaptation. 

The dune moves- in some places up to 30 feet a year. But there are a lot of plants that can still thrive in these dunes. One is a type of sumac- this plant will grow roots that hold on tightly to the sand, forming almost a rock underneath the plant. If the dune blows away, it still has something to hold on to. Another plant, the yucca, grows very tall so that if a dune blows over it, the top will still be on the surface. Some yucca plants are over 20 feet tall underneath the dune, even though you can only see a foot or two of plant on the surface. 

Life can change fast- life can change in an instant. And species that can adapt to those changes are the most likely to survive even the most difficult of conditions.