That's How Couger Dan Got His Name

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Published October 2008, Local Flavor magazine, Santa Fe, NM. (1500 words)

By Ruby Peru

Now, a warning for you first-daters out there. I have always marveled, and not in a good way, at the Santa Fe tradition of the "hiking date." See, when I go on a first date with a guy I barely know, I don't really want to be alone in the woods with him. I mean there are so many reasons why this is logical. But upon polling numerous single Santa Feans, I have actually found that the hiking date as a first date is a very popular experience. Go figure. Even so, this hike is so far away from town and down such a long, rock-strewn dirt road bordered with rusty vehicular detritus and broken-down old shacks, that if your date doesn't know you well, the drive may fill her or him with a slight sense of foreboding, which is maybe not the best way to start a hike deep into the woods with a relative stranger. So for a first date I give this maybe two out of five stars. But for an established couple this adventurous multi-faceted date with snuggling option is a five-star bonanza.

In honor of this being Local Flavor's outdoor sports issue, I have decided to explore a super-romantic hiking date . . . with some tantalizing surprises. Upon asking numerous friends and acquaintances for the most romantic hike around these parts, I have pinpointed the ultimate spot, which is known as The Rio en Medio hike. Now, with the few extras I added in to boost the romance factor, I think any of my readers out there can duplicate the five-star romance rating of this date with very little effort. We begin our date with me, Ruby Peru, and my date, who we shall call . . . Panda.

First date: two out of five
Established couple: five out of five
Group hike: five out of five

Panda and I have been together for about a year and a half now, so we are established snugglers. We have in fact considered setting up an international snuggl-lympics just so we could win every event. So naturally, I had to take the idea of a rough-and-ready hiking date and try to figure out how to work snuggling into the equation. But don't worry; if you and your date are not at the snuggling stage, you can edit the bonus feature out of the hike. Then, if things are going well, you will also have an opportunity to continue on to the exciting  "cherry on top" stage and extend an incredibly pleasant afternoon right on into the evening.

When I told Panda what hike we were going on, he declared, "Oh yeah! That's the hike where Cougar Dan got his name!" It wasn't until it was too late to back out that he told me why.

Panda wasn't allowed to look inside the daypack because of a certain surprise I had stowed away in there, but he very chivalrously offered to carry it anyway. So on that good note, the two of us set out along the dirt road at the trail head, which very shortly led to the marked trail, 163, branching off to the right. For a full 50 to 60 minutes, this hike parallels a babbling brook that meanders through pretty dense stands of oak and chokecherries. We loped along under this canopy of green, enjoying the yellow flowers that are in profusion this time of year. Butterflies literally flitted and flapped around our heads as we hopped from one stepping-stone to another at the many stream crossings. At the end of this trail, a 20-foot waterfall drops like a shimmering curtain through a narrow canyon into a shallow pool. I mean, I'm trying to think how you could possibly get a more romantic outdoorsy experience, and all I can think of is if you had maybe tame birds that would come alight on your finger or something.

A half an hour into the hike we came to an intersection where a sign indicated "Rio en Medio" on the right, paralleling the stream, and "179" to the left, crossing the stream. We stood there indecisively. This could have been a "path less traveled" moment, except that both paths were pretty well traveled. Panda didn't seem concerned. He just said, "I think we're getting pretty close to the place where Cougar Dan got his name." Foolishly, I was so preoccupied with choosing a path that I didn't listen.

It turns out that both trails actually converge about ten minutes later. If you cross the stream though, you have the option of branching off to the left for an extended hike on what is called the La Junta circuit. Also on the left side are a couple of lush camping spots with established fire circles. They are very tempting and very romantically tucked in amongst the towering Douglas Firs.

We continued along the Rio en Medio trail and eventually came to a place where it climbs up a steep rocky slope, but it also branches off to the left and, again, crosses the stream. To get to the waterfall, we crossed over the stream and walked a little way down the trail, then found ourselves basically in the stream itself, hopping from rock to rock. Then there it was. The waterfall!

We sat on rocks and gaped at the splendor of it all. We took off our shoes and waded in the cool clear pool. We even braved getting wet to explore the open cavern behind the falls itself. Then my carefree mood turned ponderous when Panda said, "Yep, this is the spot where Cougar Dan got his name." So finally I asked him to tell me the story.

The story goes that Dan (then just ordinary Dan) hiked to this waterfall alone, and just as he was getting ready to leave, he looked up and there was a cougar sitting right in the trail. Dan stood there trying to look casual, but suddenly realized that he was not only at a beautiful place of unparalleled splendor, but also a boxed-in dead end. The cougar looked kinda hungry . . . but eventually Dan's overwhelming charisma frightened the big cat away. (That's the way Dan told it.) And that's how just-plain Dan became Cougar Dan.

I looked left. I looked right. I looked up to the tops of the rocky outcroppings surrounding us, expecting to find a large predatory beast getting ready to pounce.  Nothing.

"The cougar could be just around the corner," suggested Panda.

I remembered the surprise in the daypack and snapped out of it. I told Panda I had a better surprise for him than any old cougar. Panda found this hard to believe, but he would soon admit to being wrong.

We started hiking back along the trail, and about ten minutes along I spied a secluded grove of trees. I zipped open the daypack and pulled out one of my two new purchases: "slap straps." Sounds kinky, I know. Folded into a tiny little stuff sack of their own, this very simple hammock-hanging mechanism consists of two heavy-duty seven-foot strips of nylon webbing with some loops sewn into them at about six-inch intervals. They are each designed to loop around a tree and make hanging a hammock a breeze, which is exactly what they do.

"Why not use an ordinary length of rope?" you ask. Because, my friends, the object of the game is romance. We don't want to get into carrying lots of tangled-up rope around. It's heavy and bulky and awkward and besides, if this were a first date and you brought all that rope . . . after the long drive past the creepy old shacks and busted-up trucks . . . and the long walk into the woods . . . what would your date think?

Next, I pull out the ultimate outdoors-person's hammock. I bought this camping hammock (from Eagle's Nest Outfitters) at the new REI store in the Railyard. I had to brave "opening day" to do it, which was death-defying, so you can see how dedicated I am to romance. It's big enough for two and folds up into a tiny little bag that weighs nothing.

Instantly I unfold it, then clip the karabiners on each end of the hammock onto the slap straps. We both take off our shoes, dive in, and wow! Instant romance! The thing that is great about the ENO hammock is that there are no strings to tangle up. This is especially key when you are on a date, like this one, designed for lovers. There can not be any knotted messes that bring about the inevitable arguments any couple has, when under stress, about how one person always has to do things the hard way and the other person doesn't appreciate complexity, and so forth. This hammock system is instant, hassle-free snuggling.

Once we were ensconced in our little swinging paradise, we did not emerge for one solid hour. We swayed gently just above the forest floor, listened to bird calls, and pointed out squirrel's nests we could see in the treetops. We wrapped our arms around each other, invented new snuggling positions exclusive to mid-air furniture, and generally got really peaceful.

We began this adventure like two people going on a typical hike—each of us thinking our own thoughts, lost in our own worlds. But when we emerged from the magical hammock of romance I want you to know that we finished the hike arm in arm, talking nonstop about projects we would do together and our wonderful future. It was a perfect set-up for my cherry-on-top: Dinner at El Nido.

El Nido is so old school. The simple, dark atmosphere; the understated, never-changing menu. It's a place where you have to really ask the waiter questions, otherwise you would never know that the New York Strip is aged six months right there on the premises and that it has this endless flavor you can suck out of every single bite. The food there reminds me of how my mom always said to chew every bite fifty times, because literally that steak I had was so good I didn't want to stop chewing it. Every chomp brought out a new burst of flavor. And the glass of top-shelf scotch I paired it with made me happy, tired, and contented, and ready to go home and snuggle some more. Perfect!