I planned to try paddling to Eagle Nest Lake, east of Taos. The drive is through some of New Mexico's prettiest high country. US-64 takes you through the mountains. The slowest parts are east of Taos, where narrow winding roads really make it difficult to make time.
It was not to be this time, for upon arrival at Eagle Nest the weather was turning stormy. Winds across the lake were whipping up serious white caps. Even the motorboats with fishermen were heading ashore. It was not a good day to be on the water. So I resorted to Plan B.
Plan B featured a continued drive east, over the mountains, through Cimmaron and thence down to Las Vegas, New Mexico (Yes, we have a Las Vegas and it's older than the Nevada one). There are no casinos in our Las Vegas, but there is a pretty lake and nice state park. Storrie Lake is in the prairie land east of the Pecos wilderness high country.
I arrived late in the afternoon, having covered 330 miles from
El Vado. There was a fierce, really fierce thunderstorm in the
area. The lightning and black clouds made me quickly re-think
the idea of setting up my tent in the park. I opted instead for
a nearby KOA campground that featured rental log cabins. They're
not fancy, but they are dry. It was the smart choice.
Next morning the weather was clear, the winds calm and the lake very inviting. I headed for the state park and paid the $3.00 day-use fee most willingly. The boat launching area for was a beach at the south end of the lake. I was on the water before 8:30 A.M..
The lake was calm and smooth as glass. And the lake waters were pretty high, for many trees and shrubs that would normally have been at the shore were in the middle of the lake. High atop a snag tree near the south end I saw two bald eagles. They too seemed to be enjoying the nice weather.
Paddling around Storrie Lake was pretty easy. With winds non-existant it was really nice. At several places along the shore I chatted with folks fishing from the banks. Only a few claimed to have caught anything, a few rainbow trout. The only fish I saw were clouds of tiny black catfish, swarming together in the shallows for mutual protection from larger fish in deeper parts.
My all-too-brief three-day trip was over before I knew it. I didn't really mind not spending the second night in a log cabin. It's not much fun fighting pelting rains in a fragile tent. Discretion proved to be the better part of valor, or something like that.
I've been back but a month and am ready to go again. I probably will before the snows fly and the lakes freeze over. It's really hard paddling in the ice.