January 8, 2026.
8.9 mi. | 2830′ ele. gain | 4:40 hr.
During my last visit to the Organ Mountains, I hiked up Baylor Peak from the east. This time, I’d approach it from the west. This would require a few extra miles, but it was still under 10 so that felt like a reasonable half day effort. What would make this hike much different than last time were the winter conditions I’d find halfway above the saddle. But more on that later.
It was a gray and windy morning, something I’d just come to expect of southern New Mexico, especially in January. Right out the gate, I was welcomed by a Crissal thrasher, which was quite lovely. The hike in from there was pretty straightforward and unremarkable. The trail, being well-graded, passed under my feet quickly. I only stopped on occasion to document the interesting plants and birds I observed. Otherwise I kept my head down all the way up to the saddle.
I knew I’d be facing the full force of the wind once I reached the top of the maintained trail and the connector to the east side trail, so I paused under cover to put on another layer and cinch down my hood tight. I was not quite expecting to be blown off my feet, but there we are. As I turned toward the peak, which was hidden in a dense cloud, I was glad I could lean into my poles.
On the way up the user trail, I rejoiced in finding an elusive Mammilaria cactus that barely grows above ground level. Had I not been moving so slowly and looking straight down at the ground, I never would have noticed it. Huzzah! I took a little celebration break and took my gloves off briefly to take photos of this cute little plant. Then it was back to the climb.
The temperature continued to drop as I gained elevation. The wind never relented. I noticed the wet condensation on the plants turn to ice about halfway to the summit. Despite the brutal conditions I couldn’t help to admire how beautiful the scene was. Cactus, yucca, juniper trees, little perennials, they were all coated in a magical layer of rime. The higher I got, the more impressive the rime. Since the wind blew fiercely from the west side, each plant had a distinct ice side and dry side. I have never seen anything like it in the desert. I took a million pictures.
Deeper into the cloud, I found the terrain more slippery and complex. I was glad I read a trip report the night before to remind me that there’s a false summit on this hike, so when I reached it I was not disappointed. I carefully made my way down the icy rocks on the other side and back up again. Once I reached the summit cairn and ammo can I knew I had made it!
Obviously, the summit was completely socked in and I had no view, but that didn’t bother me. I sat on the leeward side of the cairn to eat a quick snack and chug some water before heading back down. By the time I started moving again, my hands and feet were freezing. My feet had gotten wet from walking through all the soggy vegetation. I was in a hurry to get down but I couldn’t rush.
Slowly I retraced my steps down the mountain and back to the saddle. At some point, my feet regained feeling again. The whole way down, the wind kept blasting from the west. I didn’t catch a break until I threw open the van door and put the kettle on for cocoa!
Had I fully understood the conditions I was heading into, I would have worn my Sealskinz socks and gaiters. I would also have packed some hand warmers. I was really glad I brought my mittens because my hands would really have been hurting otherwise! A thermos with a hot drink inside would have been nice too, but I knew I wasn’t going to be up there all day. Live and learn, and never underestimate the desert.