Ladybug Migration
Hermit's Peak looks alien, looks sharp against our softly curved sky. The mountain is littered with crevices and caves, its peak rising 3700 feet above Las Vegas. The monolith was once called El Cerro del Tecolote, The Hill Of The Owl, by early Spanish settlers. Old stories tell of a wise feathered messenger from heaven who reminded travelers to watch, to listen, to stop and pray.
"God's owl used to protect those who had to face the mountain," explains Mona Gallegos, a tiny woman from Mora who used to serve lunch in the schools. "My abuela told me to stop when I heard the owl. That meant it was time to notice God's beauty and ask Jesus to help me get through the day. Now I tell my own grandchildren to listen for the owl when they make their pilgrimage up Hermit's Peak."
In the late 1800's, the mountain took her new name. An Italian missionary, Juan Maria de Agostini, called a natural cave near the tip of the summit home. He came to be known as a holy man, a man whose hands held God's healing powers, a man who traded carvings and trinkets for food. Each Good Friday, pentitente pilgrims carried lighted torches up the steep trail, praying for forgiveness. Hand-hewn crosses still stand near the overlook, each surrounded by new devotional candles and rosary beads, and the hermit's source of water, an underground spring, waits for tired hikers to drink from its cool, clean depths.
People aren't the only ones making journeys up the mountain, aren't the only creatures following an unspoken call. The hiking trail up the mountain's rugged folds is difficult, beset with what feels like thousands of switchbacks. Her summit lays flat, a broad park-like area with imposing cliffs on the eastern and southern sides. And in the fall, when the golden aspen catches September's sun, the ladybugs return.
The ladybugs arrive from aphid-infested wheat fields in Texas and Oklahoma, fat, happy, engorged on farmers' pests. They congregate in the high-lying areas of Northeastern New Mexico, in the places far above the Great Plains. They visit during Indian summer, roll in the deep cracks of broad-leaved agave, the spines of pale green western grass. They hibernate here, find warm holes in the ground, dark corners where they can rest and wait.
Hikers will find September's peak covered in millions of Convergent Ladybug Beetles, Hippodamia convergens. They sneak into every fold of leaf, every cactus crevice, clustering close to protect each other from fall's growing winds. The beetles get their name from the converging white lines on their thorax. They usually have 13 black dots on an orange elytra or shell.
Each summer at Hermit's Peak, a new generation of ladybugs participates in a passive, or wind-carried, migration. After feeding all summer, they hibernate through the winter, their bodies cold, lifeless, underground. Ladybugs don't navigate well. They can fly short distances, jump from one branch to another. They need our spring winds to carry them home. They may land in the arid plains surrounding Roy and Mosquero, or, if luck is a ladybug, they will find Texas' bounty.
During a lifespan of a few months, female ladybugs lay up to 500 eggs on leaves and twigs. The eggs hatch and the larvae engorge themselves on aphids, then pupate. Since the larvae clean out the fields, the adults migrate back to Hermit's Peak to await the opportunity when they too can go back to aphid-rich areas and lay their eggs.
Last fall brought an abundance of ladybugs to the hermit's haunt. On a sun-drenched Saturday, I pressed aching feet into the steep grade, my right hand moving in triad instinct as I passed each Station of the Cross. I didn't see ladybugs until I lifted leg onto the summit, until I glanced down at my feet to see them surrounded by a gentle army of delicate orange beauties.
The beetles didn't notice me, didn't fly in fear. They continued gorging, their bodies soaking sun as they splayed across any available succulent. And in the distance, beneath the sheer drop of stone cliff, a lone owl welcomed me, reminded me to stand in thanks, in wonder, to ask for help on my way down the mountain.
Getting There:
Hermit Peak is located in northern New Mexico about 20 miles northwest of Las Vegas. From Interstate 25, exit at Las Vegas, highway 65. From Las Vegas, take New Mexico highway 65 (also Forest Service Road 263) west for about 14 miles, passing the little towns of Gallinas and El Porvenir. At about 14 miles the road forks. Right is Hwy 65 (FR 261), Left is FR 263. Turn right on FR 261at the signed fork and head to El Porvenir Camground. (Do not confuse the town of El Porvenir with El Porvenir Campground) The campground is about 3 miles past the fork. It is a paved road all the way to the parking lot. The trailhead is across the bridge into the campground. The Hermit Peak Trail is #223 and has a large sign at the beginning. Another trail, #219, to El Porvenir Canyon begins nearby. Use trail #223 to Hermit Peak. The trailhead is at 7500 feet.
For more information contact:
Sante Fe National Forest
Las Vegas Ranger District
1926 7th Street
Las Vegas, NM 87701
(505) 988-6997
When To Climb
Depending on the snowfall and conditions, late May through early November is the best time to climb Hermit Peak. May and June are typically the dry months, and July and August are the monsoon season with daily afternoon thunderstorms. Snow can begin as early as September.





