Gasping Stones
South Mesa Trail
暑き日や道の小石も息をつく
This hot summer day—
even the tiny pebbles
stop and gasp for breath
—Kobayashi Issa
16 July 2026 South Mesa Trailhead • A dry, dusty, smoky summer so far, with fires everywhere and repressive heat every afternoon, and the only respite, on these high dry prairie trails, is to go higher. Or to go early.
Our fearless adventures attempted both, as they arrived at the South Mesa trailhead at 9:00, along with everyone else who didn’t have a day job, and even some of those who did, filling the parking lot.
A van-full of strapping youths, with hard hats and branch loppers, set upon the trail, lopping voraciously any branch that dared to waft across the trail, whereupon these youths took up these unfortunate loppages, and flung them wind-ward into the thicket. Where, with any luck, they might again take root. (But probably not.)
Meanwhile, S and D set forth, not quite knowing their destination, but hoping for the cool respite of a forest somewhere.
Well, within a kilometer or two, the trail escaped the grass and arrived at some trees. Some birds calling - mostly towhees - and a cool breeze, here and there. Also roving gangs of trail workers and their pickaxes.
A busy day on the trail. As our intrepid explorers approached these fearsome gangs, the call went out, from the front to back of the line, “Hikers!” At which these hearty laborers mostly stepped aside, as though for an ambulance or royalty or something; unless they were crowbarring a boulder or something. (One of them exclaimed, “Eeek a spider,” beneath the boulder she’d just heaved. Truly, is this a wild and unruly place.)
Anyway, our humble hikers somehow managed to traverse the throng without being impaled or crowbarred, nor even becoming overly egotistical, despite the deference of these dedicated trail workers. (Now, if they’d called out, “Hail, Intrepid Explorers!” we might have needed a bubble burst, but no, that didn’t happen.)
Thus passing the gauntlet, our intrepid explorers ascended the trail, into the forest, where a pleasant breeze cascaded the air, towhees chirped, squirrels chortled (?), and indeed, the cries of peregrine falcons echoed overhead.
Up the Bluestem trail, to the Mesa trail, then south to loop back around, a rather lengthy, undulating loop, and two hours later they were back to the trail workers, who were still lopping and flinging branches. The trail did look slightly more civilized, even on a hot, dry, and dusty mid-July morning such as this.
And in the end, there was a creek. And another successful BNO.
☶