Nature Conservancy Magazine: Spring 2009

 

Kids discover a place they've always known


The Author
Cathie Leslie is a computer teacher (with a degree in zoology) working in the Las Cruces Public School District, where, she says, she tries “to incorporate ideas of the outdoors in class projects to inspire students to discover nature on their own.”

Submit Your Story

Learn how to submit your Human Nature story.

Touching the Mountain
A Group of Kids Discovers the Place They’ve Always Known

By Cathie Leslie
 

Miss, are we going to be able to touch the mountain?” one child asks as we amble along the trail. We are on a field trip — 40 fourth-graders, parents, siblings, two teachers and a substitute (me). Our destination: Ice Canyon.

At the base of the Organ Mountains in southern New Mexico, the canyon houses the ruins of an old hotel, livery stables and a sanatorium. Abandoned mine shafts dot the surrounding hillsides. Early in the morning, deer and coyote can be seen among the cactuses, shrubs and trees. A mountain lion has taken up residence in the higher elevations. Careful eyes can spot tarantulas crossing the trails, lizards darting into the brush, snakes slowly slithering out of sight, and a variety of birds flitting among the oaks and junipers. Rabbits, hares and squirrels scramble out of site just ahead of the noisy band of kids.

But the mountains make the biggest impression. Crags of granite thrust upward by volcanic activity and peaking at more than 9,000 feet draw every child’s gaze. And question. “Do you see the tree way up there on the ledge?” “Doesn’t that rock look like it is about to fall?” “What do you think would happen if it did?” “What made that giant crack in the rock?” “Do animals live in those caves up there?” We haven’t come far, fewer than 20 miles from Doña Ana Elementary School in Las Cruces. These are rural kids. Most live on small farms or have relatives who do. They spend a lot of time outdoors. They know about cows and sheep and chickens, tomatoes and melons and chilis. They also know about global warming and the dangers the polar bears face thousands of miles away. What they don’t know, haven’t experienced, is the wild nature found in their own back yard. The Organ Mountains are merely a backdrop to the city.

But now we are here. Many kids at the front of the pack want to be the first to reach the shade, the ruins, the mountains. I teasingly call them my “snake bait,” but that doesn’t slow them down. We reach the first ruins, those of the Van Patten Hotel. I ask the kids if they would like to spend the night here. One says yes; the rest, no way — it’s too scary here!

Beyond the hotel, the path dips down to where Dripping Springs can be seen. We have had only one day of rain in six months, so the “waterfall” is merely a trickle. I tell them to come back with their families after a rain to see a really great waterfall. From the spring, the trail climbs steeply upward and splits. To the left are more ruins — those of the Boyd Sanatorium, which housed tuberculosis patients. These buildings are newer and more intact. The kids scramble, peering in windows and doors and climbing, always climbing. A trail curves off and up the mountain. They want to follow it. Next time, I tell them. When you bring your families. I entice them with mental pictures of a small pond, pools and waterfalls.

We start our 1.5-mile return to the trailhead and the promise of lunch. Not so many questions now. Our water bottles are almost empty, though some kids still race down the mountain. We eat our lunches in small groups. One boy has seen a snake and tells the others about it. Most kids are talking about what a “cool” place this is. They definitely want to come back.

Yes, they got to touch the mountain. But more important, the mountain touched them.

Illustration © Stan Fellows