It’s an austerely beautiful wild land with the majestic Sandias rising in front of me as I walk one of the well-trod paths, or carefully pick my way across rocks and boulders on a lesser traveled trail. In winter, the patches of snow and the frosted mountains. In spring the wildflowers dab colors of yellow, blue, and red over the budding green landscape. Summer and autumn bring more hues of gold than I ever imagined. Although maps are available, I have never used them, so I always find an ever-changing place filled with surprises.

As a totally novice hiker, I started with the main paths that criss-cross the 640 acres. There is a 360 degree view and I pause frequently to see the city spread out behind me with Mount Taylor to the west, or to and notice how the land changes as I climb towards the Sandias.

There is a joy in serendipitous discovery. Walking along the path one day my companion and I heard a familiar tinkling sound. “Water?” I inquired hopefully. As a transplanted New Yorker I do sometimes experience water deprivation and the possibility of finding a babbling brook was too exciting to ignore. If I had actually read the map I received when entering the park I would have known that there are two arroyos running through the park and we were near one of them.

Without that knowledge I bounded ahead up the path, following the growing sound of moving water. Finally, I spotted the arroyo, tumbling and streaming down the mountain. “Ed,” I ran back shouting to my companion, “I found water.” No trail-blazing pioneer could have been more pleased.

We have visited that arroyo many times. Ed, an experienced hiker, helping me over the boulders and across sometimes tricky footing as we left the well-used paths behind. We saw that “my” stream was actually the confluence of two brooks fed by the melting mountain snows. And we sit in the tiny triangle of sand between the two water flows and drink in the blue sky, the smell of the water, and the peace of the moment.

Then, we hike back down the mountain, and head into the city as the sun sets and the mountains turn their watermelon pink.

If You Go:
The Elena Gallegos is located just north of Academy Road off of Tramway. Turn right (east) onto Simms Park Road. There are signs indicating Elena Gallegos.

The park has pinon and juniper, scrub oak, several kinds of cacti and grasses. Naturalists can spot coyote and bear scat. Picnickers can enjoy the seven covered picnic areas.

There are definite advantages to checking out the maps and materials about the park – there are other wonders to explore that I hadn’t yet discovered on my own. But I will soon visit. One is the Cottonwood Springs Trail that leads to a pond and wildlife blind. Family-based activities are offered throughout the year. Visit the Elena Gallegos Information Center, located at the entrance of the park for maps and information.

Who is Elena Gallegos?
In 1712 a 70,000-acre grant was made to Captain Diego Montoya. When he died he left the land to Elena Gallegos, the widow of Santiago Gurulé. (also spelled Grolet). The history of the land is itself another fascinating story but a small portion of that huge land grant is now the park.

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