Take this car to Cuba

We left the Jemez Mountains tired, hungry from no breakfast, and cold.

It had been a long night. The temperature plunged to the mid-30s, and some time before dawn, the boys climbed in with us on the air mattress. We all woke up a tangle of shivering arms and legs.

But we were glad to be on our way to Chaco Culture National Park. Our resupply town, and soonest chance for breakfast, was the town of Cuba, on the east side of the Jemez. We had two route choices: continue on the main mountain highway south and then drive north for miles, or the more scenic route, a mostly unpaved state forest road that looked to be a hypotenuse.

Ever the explorers, we chose the state forest road, officially Highway 126. After all, we have an SUV. It should be something more than a suburban trolley.

Highway 126 started out paved, for a few miles past sheltered horse ranches. Then it became Gravel Road 126. We crackled along for a while, not that rough. Then the woods crowded in and the shoulders turned to ditches. Then it became Rutted-Narrow-Sandy-Fire Trail 126. We stayed cool. This was what traveling was all about. This was why we had our Toyota. What was that? Scraping under the car? Stay cool.

Besides, as we bumped along, mile after mile, going over cattle grates, negotiating ruts, every turn or rise revealed a beautiful sight. We especially liked a little valley meadow filled with wild iris and another ringed with odd, twisting rock formations perfect for a Tolkien landscape.

Passing by mountain ranches or summer homes reassured us; even if they were vacant, we could always break in for shelter, maybe crack open some cans of soup.

And then, toward the end of about 21 jostling, dusty miles, we passed a pickup going the other way. Clearly, judging by the dirty truck and tools in the back, they were headed toward some work in the hills. They belonged. We, on the other hand, had a Pennsylvania plates and a black cargo shell on top as we bounced down the road. We belonged in a "National Lampoon's Vacation" movie.

Finally, pavement, blessed asphalt, appeared. We had miles to go before Cuba, but at least, we could be confident we would arrive under our own power.