Since the late 1800’s, Cerro Tecolote, just northwest of Las Vegas, New Mexico has become known as Hermit's Peak, for a mysterious Italian ex-patriate, Giovanni Agostini. This son of an Italian nobleman—who received a fine education in preparation for the priesthood—traveled from Europe to Cuba, South America, Mexico, where letters of introduction from dignitaries opened up doors into the homes of wealthy and powerful strangers. It was rumored that he’d been excommunicated from the Catholic Church, that he’d committed murder, that he was a victim of unrequited love.

At 62, he eventually made his way to Kansas, where he hooked up with a wagon train and the Romero family, politely refusing a ride in their wagons. He explained that the load he had to carry would be far too heavy for the mules, far too heavy for anyone, although he had only a small bag of books in his possession. To make his point, Agostini climbed into the seat of the wagon, and reportedly the mules refused to budge. So he walked the approximately 550 miles alongside the wagons to Las Vegas on the Santa Fe Trail. Lived for nearly five years on the peak above the town. First, in a shallow cave on the face of the mountain, eventually in a series of log huts built for him by the locals.

You’ve stood in El Ermitano’s cave twice, most recently with your husband, the first time with your then-sister-in-law who carried a quiet, heavy load of her own. Nearly ten years passed in between each visit. You think of the rotting crosses of the Sociedad del Ermitano that ring the entrance, where you've looked out past them over the plains for hundreds and hundreds of empty miles. The same vast plains where the gold-seeking Spaniards had to shoot a bow and arrow to mark a straight path to avoid traveling in circles among the one endless herd of buffalo. You know the trail to the peak on foot—a snarl of grueling switchbacks straight up the face of the mountain.

Unfortunately, you discover, there’s no easy approach on horseback either, from that side of the range. According to the Las Vegas Forest Service ranger you call, Trail #223 - Hermit's Peak Trail is full of dead and down, and the Search-and-Rescue folks will be up there this weekend, clearing debris. Trail #247 - El Porvenir Trail is simply not suitable for horses below Hollinger Creek. The approach from Jack’s Creek, on your own side of the Pecos mountains makes the most sense, the ranger advises. You reconcile yourself to the fact that this trip will be several days long and involve some real horse packing—Big Boy (OK, Girl too) stuff—but eventually, you know you’ll make the trip. When you are ready.

The only water supply up there bears Giovanni’s mark, Hermit Spring. It’s right there on the Forest Service map. What it doesn’t say is that the water has healing powers, at least, according to some. Local legend says Agostini called the cool water forth out of a rock for a group of weary travelers to his solitary home. With his reputed miraculous healing powers, he was looked upon as a sacred, holy man, often called upon to minister to the sick or dying. Apparently if you were too poor to pay the fee, the local Catholic priests wouldn’t come, regardless of the state of your soul. No wonder the hermit was loved.

Still is.

To let the citizens of the town know he was OK up there on the peak alone, the hermit struck an agreement. He would build a fire on the edge of the mountain every evening. A sign that all was well.

On the occasional drive to Las Vegas to pick up something at Wal-Mart, Mallette’s Feed, the hardware store, you pass Starvation Peak, where some cowboys tried to wait out an Indian attack a long time ago, and died from lack of food and water. You occasionally consider the blue hazy mountain from the front porch of your house when you step outside the door, and think, that would suck, being totally surrounded. Further down the highway past Romeroville, Hermit’s Peak juts up out of the landscape and catches you completely by surprise, almost every single time, as if you’ve never seen it before. This is where you have a hard time keeping your eyes on the road.

Possibly you are looking for a campfire.

In 1869, Giovanni Agostini was found in the Organ Mountains lying face down on his crucifix with a knife in his back. He was wearing a penitential metal girdle full of spikes. The murder was never solved.

Found on the back of the USDA Forest Service Map for the Pecos Wilderness—

A combination of the rugged terrain, variable and sometimes severe weather, wildlife, livestock, time, distance, and other natural factors, constitute a risk to personal safety… Survival depends on the ability to meet natural challenges and to overcome emergencies. Chances of finding help on short notice are remote… Count on no one but yourself.

I wonder what Giovanni would have had to say about that?

El Ermitano is buried in the Mesilla Cemetery in Dona Ana County with the following Spanish inscription, John Mary Justiniani, Hermit of the Old and New World. He died the 17th of April, 1869, at 69 years and 49 years a hermit.

The Forest Service map lies face up on the dining room table for now. Just in case you want to measure the distance again. In miles. Or years. Eventually, you’ll fold it up and put it back in the drawer.

Flickr photos: toOliver2; jaysonphoto; richardDickie