JA Volcano at Petroglyph National Monument/USGS, Annette Olson

The distinctive silhouettes of the “Three Sisters” are an Albuquerque landmark, low peaks on the high West Mesa. Part of Petroglyph National Monument, this free day use area is jointly managed by National Park Service and the city. Instead of turning left out of the visitor center parking lot to go find ancient rock carvings, I turn right in search of volcanoes.       

After driving five miles west on I-40, I exit the highway onto Atrisco Vista, the last street before you leave Albuquerque's city limits altogether. From this high road, I look down on the acres of the Atrisco Land Grant of 1692, when Spain reclaimed land on the west bank of the Rio Grande after the 12-year Pueblo Revolt.

Despite the contentious history, the area grew and developed, up to the very edges of the mesa. But upon the mesa itself, black cattle quietly graze sun-bleached grasses on seemingly endless rangeland. I follow the narrow road as it curves its way back to the volcanoes growing and taking shape as I approach, aligned near the mesa's rim.

The Three Sisters/Sketch by Ray Kriese, volunteer in the park

This is a place fractured by massive rifts. The Albuquerque Volcanoes were formed by a break in the Rio Grande Rift Valley, one of only a few active rifts on the planet. The Sandia Mountains to the east of the city form one edge of the rift, the other edge located just past the Rio Puerco to the west. As the rift continues to pull the earth apart, the Rio Grande Valley will continue to sink between those edges, as it has been doing for many thousands of years.

The volcanoes are cinder cones, to be specific. According to the national monument information signs at the entrance, more than 130,000 years ago a fissure opened in the earth's surface here, more than five miles long and several miles deep, and "spewed out magma in a curtain of fire." As lava cooled and filled the huge crack, these small cones formed, venting additional lava, burning cinders, and ash. The area is “still geologically active,” though the cones no longer erupt.

With few people around, I decide to run the trails winding through Vulcan, Black, and JA volcanoes. I would meet the Three Sisters. My running shoes alternately sink into powdery orange sand or crunch through ancient cinder, tiny pumice stones a blackened-red from burned and melted iron. Beyond the marked path, prickly pear, chamisa, and tall, branching cholla hold tight to the thin soil. Creosote waits for rain from the scattered clouds gathering overhead.

Past the first turn, the trail rises sharply. I run straight up, pumping my arms hard, even though my labored pace on the steep path hardly matches the effort.

Running up hills is probably an acquired taste. Down in the city, I get tired of convincing myself to run back and forth on the streets. It takes a steep path to challenge my complacency. Trail running rewards tenacity.

Dodging down the equally steep, rocky descent on the far side of Vulcan, I run an easy meander until rising once again to meet Black, the middle volcano. The ascent continues to the third sister volcano, JA.

This stretch is tough. It requires me to ignore my rubbery legs, my burning lungs, my dry throat. I scan the path ahead -- and immediately pull up short.

"Hello, baby rattler." It stretches itself east to west across the soft dust, effectively blocking half the trail. I hesitate, then hop to the farthest edge of the open track and scamper past, suddenly energized.

Near the top of the hill, I stop to catch my breath. To the east, thick black and white clouds cling to the Sandias, rising dark and forbidding across the Rio Grande Valley. Bands of rain pass over the city far below. Here, light sprinkles blow across the mesa on the gusting winds. I feel my heartbeat slowing down, calming.

The Pueblo People have a deep spiritual connection to this place, believing it to be a sacred landscape that enables communication and guidance from their ancestors. To summit the volcanoes here would desecrate the sacred space. Signs remind me to stay on the trails, hold back, and not create or exacerbate any cultural rifts.

I look back for the rattlesnake, but it has returned to its den. I take our encounter as a message from the Sisters to approach them with respect. A sudden shower cools my fiery tendency to see each challenge as an uphill battle. I feel my internal pressures relieved as I walk among the volcanoes in the rain.