Back in the summer of 2005, I worked for a season in a place that is arguably the most beautiful spot in New Mexico: the Valles Caldera National Preserve.

My mentor that summer was a wonderful woman, Dr. Anastasia Steffen. She had one of the most sparkling and iridescent souls on the planet. I say “had”, because she died last February from cancer. She was in her early 60’s, way, way too young.

Ana gave a talk at an Earthwatch conference a few years after I worked for her, in which she described the Valles Caldera as “the great love of my life”. She spoke for about 20 minutes, lovingly and heart-rendingly describing the place she loved and the tragedy of the Las Conchas fire that burned fully one-third of the preserve in 2011. This talk was given in 2012, and the conference theme that year was Why Emotion Matters in Conservation Science. Ana described the terrible transformation of a Place that awe-struck everyone who saw it (both the first time and every time after), and the anxiety and fear and pain that was caused when a Place that was healthy for people and animals to inhabit was destroyed before her eyes.

Ana couldn’t know it at the time, but the very next year the Thompson Ridge fire would decimate another third of the Preserve, threatening the historic ranch buildings and burning hot enough to kill entire slopes of trees. The ensuing summer monsoons irrevocably altered the landscape, sloughing arsenic-laden ash downslope into the once-pristine streams. I was working for the Forest Service at the time, and was recruited for the Burned Area Emergency Response (BAER) team for the Thompson Ridge fire, trying desperately to assess damage to known archaeological sites in the Caldera while devising solutions to protect the historic farmstead and outbuildings, and writing a plan for implementing slope stabilization and historic preservation methods. Witnessing the devastation, feeling the furious heat of the fires burning across the landscape next to me while I worked, seeing the helicopters dipping into the beautiful high-altitude lake to get water, watching the firefighters back burn and dig line trying to get ahead of the flames, was all absolutely heartbreaking.

All of this is preamble to describe my connections to this place. This is important because Ana’s position as Cultural Resource Program Manager at the Valles Caldera has now been advertised in USAJOBS, and I am sorely tempted to apply.

In fact, I think I will.

I’m trying to analyze my feelings about this.

CONS:

It would be a step down. I’m a GS-12, the position is a GS-11, which is absolutely stupid – the Park Service always advertises positions that should be GS 13’s or 14’s far below their grade level, which just proves that everyone who works for the Park Service (except those who set the wage grade levels) is a fucking dedicated individual.

I would have to live in Los Alamos. There is federal housing in Jemez Springs, the closest town, but it doesn’t allow pets. The federal housing would really be ideal because as I recall, it’s $75 per month. Yes, you read that right, $75. Per month. Los Alamos, also known as “The Smartest Town in America”, is unbelievably expensive, so that’s also a hindrance.

I’d have to buy a car. Los Alamos is about a 40 minute commute to the Caldera, which isn’t ridiculous. But the NPS headquarters are in Jemez Springs which is more like an hour. I know Ana lived part time in Fed housing, part time in Santa Fe, but that’s way too far away for me.

So, to sum up, I’d have to buy a car and live in a super expensive city, all at a lower pay scale. That sounds dumb.

PROS:

The obvious, first: I’d be working in the most beautiful place in New Mexico.

More obvious stuff: the archaeological record in the Caldera is dumbfounding. It’s a source of obsidian, so people have been visiting that place to get that precious material for the last 14,000 years, at least. Bandelier National Monument is right next door. It’s an absolute Mecca for a stone tool specialist like…welllll, like me.

The Park Service will pay transfer of station.

I’d be a Cultural Resource Program Manager. That’s supervisory experience, and since I’ve already had a few years as a 12, a supervisory 13-14 is a possibility in future.

Taking a step down to work in a place I love is an affirmation of my commitment to the profession. This is important, so I’ll say it again. This is an affirmation of my commitment to my profession. We’re having a re-commitment ceremony. I’m remembering all the reasons why I got into this career in the first place. I miss being tied to a landscape. I miss being boots on the ground. This topic deserves its own blog post, because in my current position I am largely a paper pusher. Do I like that at this stage of life? Yes, in some ways. I’ve paid my dues in the field. But the idea of intimately knowing a place in the world, especially one so dear to my heart, is something I might really need.

I’d be closer to Marcus and my parents. Marcus is important, my parents are less so (see past posts), but I still need to be available to them if the shit hits the fan. Just waiting for that call, ugh.

I’d be back near my BMX track. I could actually race sometimes, and visit Albuquerque.

I would be close to a place where I can snowboard: Pajarito Mountain Resort. Like, literally almost on top of it.

It will be a healthier environment for me.

FUCK. When I started analyzing this stuff, I thought the cons would WAY outweigh the pros. Now I’m not so sure.