Rolling Bones on the San Antonio Dome

Travels with the Blonde Coyote

There are bones under this tree. Broken bones, bones eaten down to the marrow. And why shouldn’t there be bones here? I’m sitting under the only tree in miles. If I were dying and looking for shade, or preparing to feast, I’d seek out this tree too. I spent all morning hiking here to this tree. All morning hiking towards San Antonio Dome, all morning before it got any closer. Damn, this must be a big mountain.

San Antonio is deceptive because it looks like a giant hill- a free-standing rounded prominence looming above the high Taos Plateau, slopes so rolling and gentle that from a distance, it looks like you can stroll up and roll back down, laughing. Now that I’m sitting at the base of it, after taking all morning on the unexpectedly long approach through the trackless sagebrush, I give the beast its due. This is not…

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