Erin Fredrichs

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In an empty lot southwest of Gibson and I-40, jackrabbits cringe in their burrows. Above them soars Zhel, a three-year-old Peregrine Falcon, looking for his prey as he stretches his wings.He is far from a traditional pet.“For a little while, when I’m with the bird, all the stupid aspects of modern society go away and it’s just me in the wild with a wild animal,” said Terence Wright, Zhel’s owner and third-generation falconer.Retreating into nature with our pets is slowly becoming a novelty. A brisk walk around the block or a spare half an hour at the dog park are meager substitutes for a hike with the dog in the Sandia Mountains. Busy lifestyles don’t accommodate high maintenance pets.Zhel is demanding, needing to be flown at least four times a week. He can’t be taken to Roosevelt Park and set free. Wright takes the bird to large open spaces so he can keep it within his sights as it hunts for jackrabbits.“I’m living in the city and at the same time I can slip between the cracks in the concrete and find these little spots of wilderness,’ said Wright.Urban sprawl continually encroaches the wilderness. As housing developments sprout throughout Bernalillo County, the open spaces falconers need to fly their birds diminish.“I get the privilage of seeing what most people will never see in their lives,” said Wright. “I watch Zhel hunt and do what he does naturally in the wild.”
   
In the end, I was happy and tired. It was over, I had just spent the last 10 hours and 3 minutes on my bike.There are many reasons I did it.To get in shape.To honor the memory of my grandpa. Because wearing spandex is cool. To make new friends. Because I love the smell of Gatorade at 6 a.m. on Saturday morning. To raise more than $3000 for blood-cancer research. To do something for charity. To see New Mexico from the saddle of my bike. I did it because it was time to make a difference.I rode with 19 other people from New Mexico as part of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Team in Training. We raised more than $60,000. That money, combined with funds generated by teams from around the country raised more than $2 million.We rode 109 miles around Tucson, AZ in the El Tour de Tucson. Four months of training prepared us for the several steep climbs, the dry river bed crossings (pictured above) and satisfying coasts down the hills. As far as causes go, I picked this one to participate in because my grandpa, Buddy, died of leukemia four years ago. Whenever I got tired or overwhelmed, I thought of him. He kept me going.To find out more information about Team in Training visit www.teamintraining.org.
  
Her hair grows so fast. She cut 14 inches off, twice, and she's only 7 years old."God gave me hair that grows fast, so I've got to donate it," said second-grader Talia Sacco. "That's why I give it away."Talia and her aunt Maggie Suddath cut off 32 collective inches of hair for Locks of Love, a non-profit organization that specializes in making wigs for children. The pair's most recent trip to the salon marked Talia's second time donating hair. She was 5 her first time. It was Maggie's fifth.Dressed as a pixie for Halloween, Talia sat in the chair of the Lord and Lynn Salon, wincing as her older sister wrapped a rubber band around her long braid. Stylist Traci-Lynn Davy-Drake gripped slightly above the ponytail holder and scissored away most of Talia's long brown hair."I think a little girl will get my hair," said Talia. "But it would be cool if two kids could use it."As many as 10 pony tails are needed to make one wig.When it was over, Talia and Maggie compared their freshly shorn locks. Stretched out, Maggie's reached nearly 17 inches. She beat Talia by two inches."If I can make a kid look normal and feel better about themselves while they're going through this horrible treatment," said Maggie, "then what can I say? It's a good thing to do."She would know. Maggie watched her mother die of breast cancer. Her own breast cancer has been in remission for two years. Talia's 12-year-old sister Mariesol endured cancer three different times.Donating hair has become their family affair.
     
  
Pauline MacPherson (center) fumbles with a few of the steps and breaks into giggling fits during hula class. She signed up for it to learn something she always wanted to try but never had the time as she raised her six children."I think it's wonderful," MacPherson said. "It makes me feel sexy."Making women feel sexy at 71 isn't the typical selling point for a class at Highland Senior Center, 131 Monroe St. N.E., but hula lessons are far from typical. Maybe that's why they're such a success.With flowers tucked behind their ears and bright skirts wrapped around their waists, more than 15 women sway their hips to the rhythmic melodies of a Hawaiian song. They aren't perfect dancers, but with the spirit of aloha permeating through the drab brick walls of the classroom, they are having a blast."I tell the women to leave their worries and troubles at the door," said instructor Cindi Heffner. "They are here to dance and feel the joy and the aloha."Vi Chavez-Cropp (left) wanted to learn a new style of dancing and got more than a few new steps out of the five-week class."Getting together, being good to each other and enjoying God's creation - there is a real spiritual aspect to hula," she said.That's the aloha. For Heffner, aloha is more than a salutation, it's the essence of Hawaii. Hula classes give her the chance to celebrate her culture."Maybe it's why I'm in New Mexico," mused Heffner, who has been teaching hula since she moved here 10 years ago. "Maybe my husband and I are here because we are meant to spread aloha and teach hula."Chavez-Cropp, MacPherson and their friend Connie Devers (not pictured), the self-proclaimed "Three Stooges" of the class, are considering private lessons, they said."I guess it's the beauty of the dance," said Chavez-Cropp, "but the fact that we are doing it with friends and meeting new friends and encouraging each other - it's the whole package that's fantastic."
   
  
The weekend warrior doesn't have a problem with Albuquerque. Why would they? The nightlife is satisfying, the restaurants are delicious, the people are fun and happy. There's plenty to do here.Despite all of the city's offerings, there are those who can't resist the pull from beyond the it's limits. On Friday afternoon, when the work whistle blows, they hit the highway and head toward the next adventure.At Ojo Caliente, mineral springs two hours north of Albuquerque, warriors slather themselves in mud and lay in the sun to let it dry (as Carla Purves. left, and friend Virginia Klausmeier do in the photo above). The different mineral pools boast theraputic benefits and miraculously, the worries of the week are washed away."I’ve found one of the greatest things about Albuquerque’s location is that you can discover different landscapes and adventures depending on which direction you drive out of town," said Purves, a transplant to New Mexico who spends more of her weekends out of town than in.New Mexico has much to offer to a weekend warrior. There are lakes (with real water in them!) to swim in. There are mountains to climb, trails to hike, roads to ride, trees to hug, and springs to rejuvinate oneself in. Go out there, enjoy this land of enchantment, be your own warrior. There's plenty of mud to go around.
     
  
It's not the digging that has Jesus Sanchez grinning. It's the garden. It's HIS garden. The South Valley teen is participating in Habitat for Humanity's Food for Families program. The food he cultivates this spring and summer will wind up in the belly's of his family members."We felt like the young people needed an avenue of success they would be in charge of," said Joe Martinez, director of programs for Habitat for Humanity. "Each teen involved will determine how far they go with their garden, but we want to make sure there is a successful experience for each of the families."Since 1987, Habitat for Humanity has built more than 100 homes in Albuquerque. The most recent five homes were completed in December on Gallegos SW. Soon thereafter, the families were approached about a gardening project specifically designed for the teenagers."Everyone was really interested," said Martinez. "Part of our support for the family is getting the teens involved in a positive and committed thing to do."On a recent Saturday morning, the teens broke ground on their three by 12 feet gardens. With the help of community volunteers and family members, hands got dirty, palms got calloused and the gardening began."I'm growing watermelons," said Sanchez, 14. "We like fruits."All of the participants were free to decide what they wanted to plant in their gardens. Habitat provides the help of their advisors to guide the teenagers choices.Before any seeds were put in the ground, the notion of putting food the table motivated Jesus Sanchez to keep digging. His sister Mary Ann, 6, (pictured above) and brother Jose, 10, were inspired by his enthusiasm for the project and braved the cold weather to help out."I'm just being supportive," he said. "I'm happy to be helping my family."
  
Kneepads cover their fishnet stockings as mouth guards protect their teeth from stray elbows. They learn to fall before they learn to hit. When they learn to hit, they learn how to knock the girl to the ground.They are the women of Duke City Roller Derby and they are intimidating."There's a certain amount of toughness that you need to play derby," said Nan Morningstar, a member of the Hobots roller derby team. "It requires the type of person who doesn't mind getting hurt."It's a baffling blend of femininity and roughness. Roller Derby bouts pit two teams together for three 20-minute periods. They skate in circles, slamming each other into walls, vying for the best position to let their scorer scream past."You get to take out your aggression without actually getting yourself in trouble," said rookie Cynthia Walter, a member of the Derby Intelligence Agency team.In a mini-skirt and off-the-shoulder slinky black top, Walter personifies the Derby girl stereotype. This is not a bad thing. School teachers, mothers, and girls in punk bands play Derby. Women who are drawn to competitive sports and aren't afraid of getting banged up play Derby."Anyone can get out there and do it," said Walter. "They just have to have the desire to get out there and play."A coworker coerced Walter into looking into joining a Duke City Derby Team. The challenge of roller skating alone hooked the former ballerina on the sport."I love it because it's fun," said Walter, "And I'm out there skating with these other girls who are a lot like me, but different at the same time."It's the attitude of the Derby girls that sets them apart from women in other competitive sports."I just don't care what anyone thinks," said Walter. "I just go out there and do what I want."I'm certainly not going to try to stop her.
   
This is the first Christmas I'm not going home.I've known all year but now that the season is upon us, the realization is much harder than I'd anticipated. My mom constantly calls me, from the grocery store of all places, because some acquaintance has just asked if I'll be home and they've inadvertently brought her to tears. My sister is in a mild state of disbelief."Who will keep us all from arguing," she asked during a recent phone conversation. "More importantly, who is going to keep Mom from driving me crazy?"My dad avoids the topic entirely. Avoidance seems to make it less difficult for him.In as soothing of a voice as I can muster, I assure them all it will be okay.I'm trying to make that true. My boyfriend and are establishing our own traditions. We scoured Cibola National Forest for the world's most perfect Christmas trees. We've decorated the house perfectly (though he did get a little out of control with the construction paper). And we are happily devouring each chocolate in our advent calendar.Despite our efforts and the constant Christmas music I play in the house and car, coming to peace with missing the holiday with my family didn't come until I met Sister Mary Kainz.A recent assignment took me to Cubero, NM, where I spent the afternoon with Sister Mary as she visited the homes of parishioners who were physically incapable of attending mass at Our Lady of Light Catholic Church.It was her interactions with those people that helped me to realize it will be okay. They love just being with her. Her calm, her peace, her happiness brought them delight.Being at home is only a part of what makes Christmas so wonderful. It's the things we do for others. It's appreciating the beauty of twinkling lights. It's finding that perfect tree and decorating the house. It's the joy we share from within ourselves that makes the season so merry.
     
  
One morning, when the alarm was blaring at an obscenely early hour, I cursed work. It's not a phenomenon. Rarely does one wake up and think of going to work as fun. Responsibility, yes. Necessity, of course. Fun, not really.As a photographer, my job does allow for a broader spectrum of fun than most careers. Every day I'm thrust into different situations and blessed with the challenge of making a picture. Some days are amazing, others are barely sub par. On a recent sub par day, I began searching for someone who goes to fun for work. I found them in the Sandias.Steve Malavolta is a ski patroller at Sandia Peak Ski Area. For the last 17 years, he's donned the red jacket with the red cross on the back and hit the slopes."This job is about being out in the weather you love," said Malavolta. "And to have fun and help people."Jim Franklin, a five-year veteran of ski patrol concurs with Malavolta's opinion of the work. In near white out conditions, he spoke through the ice crusted on his face. "We have people up here who need help at all times. You never know what to expect."As Malavolta, on a snowboard (above right) and Franklin, on skis (above left) rode off into the snow, in search of someone to help and some fresh powder, it was clear they were in for some fun.Lower on the mountain, two snowboard instructors shoveled snow off of the board walk near the ski school offices. Not exactly glamorous, but they didn't complain."This is definitely something I don't ever want to stop doing," said Grant Roberts, referring to being an instructor, not the shoveling. Roberts has worked at Sandia since he was in high school. "I've gotten better at snowboarding and I have a good time up here."Fellow instructor Braden Anderson leaned on his shovel and grinned. "I'm surprised I haven't been doing this longer. Going from riding 10 days a year to 75 really improves your riding."Seventy-five days snowboarding – wicked fun.
   
I like to tease my dad by saying he's been suffering from a mid-life crisis since my younger sister was born, twenty years ago. In that time, he's changed careers several times, from psychologist to contractor, then salesman to cigar distribution. He moved to Los Angeles to try his hand at acting. Two years ago, he even bought a motorcycle on eBay.He dreams both big and small. Consequently, we spend hours talking about what he could do next. He likes the idea of building row boats and selling them on the front lawn. Being a handy man seems like a natural fit, he is prone to tinkering. One of his latest business plans: raising doves.I'm my daddy's daughter, so with that idea, I my imagination got the best of me. I fantasized of moving back to the Northwest and settling down on the island where my parents live and helping my dad tend to doves. I went so far as to meet a local man who raises doves.Six years ago, Dave Harris, of New Mexico Doves, read about raising doves in a magazine and thought he'd give it a try. Today, he releases his doves at weddings, funerals and celebrations of all kinds."When you work with doves, you have to be real calm," Harris told me before entering one of his two bird coops. The birds fluttered into the air and scurried to the corners of their space. Harris moved slowly toward one and scooped it into his hands. Once outside, he opened his hands and released the bird. It soared above in circles before returning to the roof of it's coop, where it sat cooing for a few minutes."Doves symbolize unity and peace," he said. "And they have taught me the art of being calm."When I told my dad about my dove experience, he laughed and reminded me it was just an idea. He has bills to pay, mouths to feed and one more child to send to college. Raising doves isn't in the cards for him.He'd be good at it though. His forays into different careers have always ended in success. He supports almost every idea I have for my own future. My dad is my best friend. He always opens his hands and encourages me to take flight.