We were exhausted the following morning having arrived home filthy and mud-crusted around 1:30 a.m. My brother Reece, never an early riser, nevertheless showed up on our doorstep at a reasonably early hour for our return trip to the Ojito Wilderness. Though there were two opposing theories about the timing of our return—later … More Return to Ojito

     From what I can tell from a reconstructed second-hand conversation made days later, about the time my brother Reece and I coasted to a stop on a mudslick road west of San Ysidro, New Mexico, to inspect what appeared to be a sodden hay bale blocking our route, my wife asked my parents … More Escape from Ojito

      Later I thought of that unnamed canyon south of Albuquerque whose dark basaltic stones cresting the highest ridges were etched with signs and patterns, with weird faces and feathered serpents and, along the tallest promontory, dozens of finely-boned feet, their toes and soles a deep burnished umber contrasting starkly against the black … More House of unwritten stories