I have a confession to make. After four continuous months of hiking on the Appalachian Trail, I’m burnt out on forests. Thru-hikers sometimes refer to the AT as “the green tunnel,” because you’re constantly immersed in a living forest. The scenery stays the same day after day. You are surrounded by this leafy green backdrop from the time you get up until the time you fall asleep.

As someone who loves to feel the sunshine on my face, the AT’s ever-present tree cover began to feel somewhat claustrophobic. The longer I was out there on the trail, the more I began to look forward to the sporadic furloughs from this green prison. My spirits would start to rise almost instantly when I encountered terrain where I could actually see my surroundings in places like the Grayson Highlands, the Roan Highlands, and New Hampshire’s White Mountains.

Hiking in New Mexico

This “forest fatigue” was one of the key reasons I decided to head out west after summiting Katahdin. Hiking in the American Southwest is about as different from the AT’s green tunnel as a person can get. You can see for miles upon miles in the desert, and you don’t ever feel boxed in.

The vast openness of New Mexico would soon become synonymous with freedom in my mind. I spent several weeks this fall exploring parts of the Sangre de Cristo mountain range and enjoying dozens of day hikes near Taos and Santa Fe. I could have stayed there forever, but the cold and snow were on their way. That meant it was time to follow the warm weather further south to Albuquerque.

If you’re a fan of the AMC series Breaking Bad, you probably have a picture in your mind of what Albuquerque looks like. Perhaps it’s something simple like a dusty, flat Chihuahuan desert with the occasional tumbleweed blowing by. While there’s some truth to this cliché, go ahead and erase that image. The reality of Albuquerque’s terrain is much more exciting.

Albuquerque is nearly a mile above sea level, and the high desert is dotted with juniper trees and cactus. The Rio Grande River bisects the city, bringing a surprising diversity to the terrain. And to the east, the city is nestled up against the Cibola National Forest and Sandia Mountains. These mountains (and the superb New Mexican cuisine) were the real reason for my weeklong visit to Albuquerque.

There’s more than just sand out here.

Sandia Mountains

The 17-mile-long Sandia Mountain Range is the most prominent topographic feature in the local Albuquerque area. These peaks are distinctly separate from the Sangre de Cristo Mountains to the north, and they rise sharply out of the surrounding desert as part of the Rio Grande rift that formed millions of years ago.

The Sandias are also home to the world’s second-longest aerial tramway. Built in 1966, the Sandia Peak Tram traverses 2.7 miles and ascends over 3,800 feet on the western side of the range. Passengers have the option to purchase round-trip tickets to Sandia Peak and back, or they can opt for one-way tickets if they prefer to hike one-half of the journey.

Below the 10,378-foot crest, more than 100 hiking trails dot the Sandia Mountain Wilderness. The vast majority of trails lie on the west side of the mountain range, exploring the open space below. Meanwhile, the trails on the east side also serve as ski trails in the winter.

Fall views looking south near Sandia Peak

Let’s go for a hike

Hiking up to the summit of Sandia Peak (aka the Bernalillo County HP) was at the top of my bucket list while in New Mexico. I couldn’t wait to take in the dramatic views over Albuquerque and the surrounding desert. This climb is rated as one of the best hikes in the area, not just for its difficulty, but because it showcases the diverse flora in the area. The trail initially climbs through grasslands and cacti before rising upward through layers of forests consisting of junipers, piñons, ponderosa pines, mixed conifers, aspens, and spruces.

One of the most popular hiking routes to the summit is the La Luz (#137) trail on the western slope of the mountains. This 7-mile trail begins off Forest Road #333 and is regarded as a strenuous climb. The trail is easy to navigate, even without a map, but it climbs at a challenging 9% grade for much of the way!

Since this was going to be a family affair, we decided to go all out. We planned to hike up to the summit and then ride back down on the famous aerial tram to experience the ride.

Unfortunately, the La Luz trailhead is a few miles from where the tram descends, so we had two options for our route. The first choice was to park at the La Luz trailhead. This would allow us to hike to the summit and ride the tram down, but then we’d need to walk a few extra miles back to the car afterward. Alternatively, we could go with option #2 – parking at the tram parking lot. This choice meant we’d absorb those extra few miles at the beginning of our hike, but we’d be completely done as soon as we rode the tram back down the mountain.

Since we’d be starting on fresh legs, we went with the latter option, which definitely proved to be the right choice for us. Upon arriving at the tram parking area, we discovered a clearly marked trailhead in the upper parking lot. There was also a helpful map at the trail kiosk laying out our route.

To get to the summit, we’d simply need to take the Tramway (#82) trail for the first 2.3 miles of this journey, then join the La Luz (#137) trail for the remaining 5.7 miles to the summit. Easy peasy!

One of the markers along the Tramway/La Luz Connector Trail

Impressions of the trail

The Tramway trail was a a pleasant start to our hike. The trail is made up of loose dirt and sand, and can look very similar to the nearby washes or the wide spaces meandering between the desert plants. There were trail markers here and there confirming we were on the right path, but it was easy to see how a novice hiker might accidentally veer off onto a side trail. This is especially true near the base of the mountain where there’s a spiderweb of intersecting trails. The best advice is to continue to follow the most distinct or well-worn path, and you will be probably remain on the Tramway trail.

As we gained altitude and Albuquerque began to shrink in the distance, I couldn’t help but think that this would be the ideal place to view the hot air balloons during the Annual Balloon Fiesta. As I discussed in an earlier post, Albuquerque has a unique wind pattern that forms a box. This allows the balloons to drift toward the Sandia Mountains during their outbound flight and then change direction and return to their starting point by simply adjusting their altitude. From this vantage point and altitude on the trail, photographers can get a truly unique perspective on the balloons while they’re aloft.

Looking back toward Albuquerque

As we approached our intersection with the La Luz Trail, the trail began to narrow and steepen. It zag-zagged up the side of the mountain for the next few miles, and the grade became more pronounced. We could see sharp rock formations protruding upward toward the blue sky like cathedral spires. There was no way we would be expected to climb these mammoth beasts, but the trail above us wasn’t visible, so we didn’t know where it might lead us.

Steep rock formations jutting toward the sky

It’s getting cold in here

The route eventually wound its way into a steep canyon, where the temperature felt like it had dropped 20 degrees. Without the sun to warm us, the rock walls seemed to amplify the cold, and it felt as though we were trapped inside a giant freezer.

The trail also became more challenging during this section, forcing us across large rocks and boulder fields. That’s when I spied the signs warning hikers that the upper portion of the trail might be impassable due to ice and snow. We weren’t in winter yet, but the temperatures the prior weekend dropped below freezing, and we’d seen snow lining the ground at higher elevations. I crossed my fingers that we wouldn’t encounter any lingering effects of that weather front as we walked across the uneven rocks.

Boulder fields on the upper half of La Luz trail

By this time, each of us had all added a layer (or two), and we donned our warm hats and gloves. We continued climbing the switchbacks up the canyon in the cold, and I was on the lookout for any small fragments of sunshine making its way down on the trail. Each time I spied one, I would stand there for a few moments, soaking it in to warm myself like a lizard on a warm rock.

Finally, we reached the top, where the unobstructed afternoon sunshine felt delightful. A sign pointed us toward the tram station on the main crest, and we only had a half mile remaining toward our destination. During this final leg, we could see the trams coming and going. The tram cars run on a double-reversible jigback, which means the cable forms a loop with one tram car at each end. As the cable rotates, one tram car ascends, and the other tram car descends. This allows the Tramway to run four “flights” per hour between the base and the summit.

Taking the easy way down

Upon reaching the upper station, we purchased our tickets for the tram ride back to the base of Sandia Peak. I’ll admit that I was a little apprehensive about riding in the tram car. I’ve ridden trams or gondolas to the top of numerous mountains, including Zugspitze (the highest peak in Germany). Despite this history, I still have a very healthy fear of riding in them.

The crowd waiting to ride down was large, though. So I knew I could bury myself in the center of the car, where I wouldn’t be able to see out the windows if I really wanted to avoid looking down. That realization quelled enough of the fear to get me on board – and then we were off.

My apprehension about the ride was truly unwarranted. The tram’s departure was smooth, and it felt like we were floating downward slowly and safely. The tram moves at about 12 miles per hour, so you neither feel like you’re suspended in mid-air nor hurtling toward the ground on the descent. Moreover, crossing the two towers that support the cable was as smooth as could be. After 15 minutes, I was back on terra firma.

In the end, I actually enjoyed the tram ride down, and I spent a decent amount of time taking photos, which allowed me to appreciate the rigors of climbing the steep ascent. If I have the opportunity to return to Albuquerque in the future, I might try this trip in reverse (taking the tram to the summit and hiking back down).

Views from the tram car window looking south across the mountains

Know before you go

Parking. If you’re planning on hiking the La Luz Trail, there’s a $3 fee to park at the trailhead. There’s also a $3 parking fee if you intend to park at the Sandia Peak Tram parking lot and use the Tramway Trail. Make sure to bring cash, as it’s the only accepted form of payment for the parking fee.

Clothing. Bring some warm layers no matter what time of year you hike this trail. The temperature at the Peak is regularly 15-20 degrees cooler than Albuquerque due to the higher elevation and winds. Moreover, much of the ascending trail is shaded by the steep and rugged rock walls and towers, making it feel even cooler than the air temperature.

Tramway Tickets. You can purchase one-way tram tickets from the base or the summit. Ticket prices are $15 (one-way) or $20-25 (roundtrip). Trams only run in the evenings on Tuesdays (5pm to 8pm), but run all day the rest of the week (9am-8pm in the fall/winter and 9am-9pm in the summer). More information about tram tickets is available HERE.

Skiing. Interested in more than hiking? The eastern side of the Sandia Mountains turn into as a popular ski resort during the winter months. For more information, click HERE.

Want to know more about the Sandias?

Check out these local resources: