The lack of oxygen has begun to affect my brain, and the relatively short night’s sleep isn’t helping my cognitive abilities, but here I am, intact, past the halfway point of this rambling run that cuts right to the heart of this monstrosity.  Only now am I really starting to see the contours of its face, the golden plains giving way to a barren expanse of sandy dirt and shrubs squatting low under a merciless sun, then to rise up into hills, mountains grow sharply offering up sheer rock and trees into thin air.  From Trinidad, CO to Raton, NM is a twenty six mile jaunt as the crow flies, but the train winds up the steep pass ever slowly, needing an hour to cover the distance, showing how treacherous the land can be, and making me wonder whether overcoming the obstacle was a triumph or a mistake.  It’s impossible to discount the draw of the west, and the morning sky, the light breeze that licked my eyes open, peaks pointing upwards on all sides are just the first signs of the great magnet that is embedded deep within the earth.  It could never be easy though, and lightheaded, dimwitted, I must seek out sustenance so that I might defy its pull as only the mind can, to write long-winded maunderings that take up entire mornings and only give a glimpse of the beauty to be found here.