The little town of Perdiz wasn't on a major road, but La Reina was. I'd stay, at least tonight, in La Reina and decide tomorrow whether or not to move to Perdiz. I chose the "La Reina Motel," at the south end of town near the ranger station. Directly across the street was the "La Reina Café," a good place for supper, I hoped.
   As I waited for a burger and fries I opened my 1/100,000 map and looked at the area near Perdiz. At the west side of the map was Yabis, mentioned by Wanda as the site of The University's Perdiz camp. Winding through the same area was the tiny Perdiz River. It entered the map at the left and snaked through a couple of canyons, under the road, and then through an unnamed canyon for several more curvy miles. It emptied abruptly into the Chama River. There were several places where the canyon narrowed, but the contours on the 1/100,000 map were not as pronounced as they would have been on larger scale maps. How narrow were the canyons at those choke points? I chose a point to the west of Yabis at the mouth of three canyons. The center one, Coil Canyon, looked narrow with very steep sides. It was right on a road that terminated at Yabis; and while it wasn't on the Perdiz River, it was on a creek that fed the river. It seemed as good a place to start as any. Hibben could have considered the creek part of the river. Tomorrow would be the day.

   The shower head and valves in my bathroom were encrusted with lime; not too surprising. I'd seen that at home. But when I opened the little complimentary soap it crumbled into dust. I'd need plenty of water tomorrow. I used a bar of soap I'd brought in my shaving kit.
   The bed was large, but the mattress was thin. Two blankets were tucked tightly beneath the spread. The room was air conditioned with a window unit cut into the east wall. A tall space heater with a large rusty scorch mark was on the wall opposite the foot of the bed. There was a TV and a tiny refrigerator under the desk. One ceiling lamp did the honors for the bedroom. It wasn't luxurious, but it had everything I needed for a night's sleep. My family would never have stayed here.
   I mention all this not as complaint; I was content. This room was typical of what I found everywhere out West, away from the Interstate: adequate, reasonable, basic. In Texas, later, I'd yearn for even this level of comfort.
   I awakened at odd intervals throughout the night gasping for breath. Surely not anxiety about tomorrow! No: altitude sickness. I'd not noticed it at any of the stops I'd made on the trip so far. La Reina was on the Continental Divide, about 7500 feet above sea level, and I was a greenhorn. It would take me several nights to adjust to working and sleeping at this height.

   At breakfast, over eggs, sausage, and hash browns, and under velvet paintings of The Duke and yearning Indian princesses in white buckskins, I scanned the map for today's first hike. Breakfast was pricey; they hadn't heard of breakfast specials in any of the three restaurants in La Reina. And the motels were almost full. Odd, I thought, for such a small town in such a dry little place. But La Reina, near the Santa Fe forest and the El Vado Reservoir, is one of only a few places on this highway for hunters to stay. In all the visits I would eventually make to this little town, I would be constantly in the company of state road crews, truckers, big game hunters (elk and deer, mainly) and boaters. Reservations would henceforth be a must for my visits.
   It was a beautiful New Mexican morning. The sun was bright; the air was chilly; the sky was deep blue; and pine and sagebrush scented the still air. I filled my icebox with cokes and bag ice at the Circle-K and headed north for Perdiz.
   New Mexico high desert is not like the southern desert. The terrain is basically low grasses and brush on a powdery clay soil base. In dry seasons it's hard and dusty, with a pleasant yellowish- tan color. It's easy to drive on; not at all like the sand dunes I'd been expecting. In wet season or under snow the clay base turns to gray, slimy mud, like potter's clay. Rain digs grooves in the road surfaces which become tiny torrents, then channels, then deep furrows. In places water undercuts the road margins and they slither away into the gullies alongside.

• Hibben's towers had been along the Perdiz River; this was only a creek;
• Hibben's towers had been silhouetted against the sky; no sky was visible through the dense forest here;
• Coil Canyon reached a very narrow point here, far too narrow for a horse and wagon.

1. I could make a fair plan, but the excitement of exploring made me forget my limits;
2. This dry climate was hazardous, and thirst was scary;
3. When I got thirsty or tired I made faulty decisions and became disoriented easily;
4. I needed a way to mark my way in and out of my hikes;
5. A water stash at the beginning of a hike would take the pressure off the return.
6. I had seen no dangerous animals—at all!