NEW MEXICO
The weather forecast called for a high wind day. Rather than just hunker down inside our little homes all day we decided to break camp and drive back into Safford to resupply. We would then make up our minds to either return to Hackle Road or press on southeast towards New Mexico. With shopping done and seeing the winds were not all that bad and would be behind us pushing us along, we continued on for the town of Lordsburg. In all we had been at Hackle Road camp for a week. It hadn’t seemed that long.
I had in mind a free camp at a VFW lodge post Beans and I stayed at before years before. Amanda looked it up. Some travelers had left comments that it was closed due to COVID-19 silliness. We would check it out anyway and had a plan B in mind if the comments proved to be founded. After an hour of easy driving we arrived at the VFW post. It looked okay until I pulled in further on the drive in and saw a posted sign: CLOSED 10:30 PM TO 6 AM NO OVERNIGHT CAMPING. The place used to be a nice spot with nineteen sites including tables and shade structures. Now it looked uncared for and in disrepair which was sad to see. Amanda took the lead heading east on Interstate 10 towards Deming. She had found a boondocking spot online somewhere before the town itself. After another hour of being pushed along by the wind she pulled off the Interstate on an exit ramp which I almost missed as I was gawking around looking at the scenery. A couple miles in we arrived at the spot which was a fenced off rock quarry. “This isn’t what the pictures look like on the free camping site” she said. “Where in the hell were these people camping leaving all the favorable reviews?” She left me there and walked on down the narrow dirt road a way then came back saying she found a spot we both could fit in. I followed her. It was just big enough for our two vehicles and would be fine for a night. The next morning I went wandering about in the bush and a hundred yards further from our overnight spot lay a small flat open dry lake bed. This had to be what the reviewers were commenting on. I came back and filled her in suggesting we move down there and take a day off from traveling. She was all for that. We settled in at our new spot. When I stepped out I forgot to slide shut the door handle opening on the screen door. Little Miss Opportunity made her escape jumping up through the hole−not the first time for her to pull this stunt either. Now I had to round her up from underneath one or both of the vehicles. Amanda brought out Louie’s treats and that got Beans to come out where I could scoop her up. I picked up the few treats on the ground and back in the RV little Houdini went.
Later in the day Amanda came by to get me for a walk and explore some stone ruins at the base of the hills around us. They were once stone cabins for the miners who had once worked the area. The entire landscape was littered with rusty tin cans−beans, soup, sardines, condensed milk, tobacco to name the more identifiable−and broken dishes and bottles. I found some square-head nails so that sort of dated the operation to pre-1890, at which point round head nails came into production. There were several extremely deep vertical mine shafts in the area that had been closed off with steel gratings by the Bureau of Abandoned Mines for safety reasons. Just to drop a rock down into the dark abyss waiting to hear it hit something was all together spooky in the sense how long it took the rock to make contact. One hole I never could hear the rock hit bottom. Nearby was a windmill water pump. I have seen dozens of windmills in my wanderings in desert places but this one was the first I had ever come across which was fully functional and still pumping water. I was fascinated watching the shaft move up and down only about a foot pulling water up from deep down below the ground. One other interesting feature was we found about a dozen empty weather beaten backpacks scattered about the area. Being less than thirty miles from the Mexican border it didn’t take much imagination to figure out where these empty backpacks came from. Oddly all the backpacks were identical. My theory was the migrants carried food and water in the backpacks. This spot was a predestined pickup point being only a few miles from Interstate 10 where the migrants met up with a car or van. They had no further need for the backpacks plus it would be a giveaway to be seen walking along the highway carrying a backpack.
We originally planned staying at this site for the day but the next morning we decided to stay longer as being isolated, no one ever came by plus we had good cell service. With that decided I changed into my hiking clothes to go explore a cave I could see up on the side of the mountain near camp. When I first saw it upon arrival it looked like too much work to climb up to, but now I planned to go for it. The climb wasn’t all that difficult; the old man still had it in him. As I approached the opening I heard the dreaded hum of bees. Bees! Why did it have to be bees? I can deal with snakes, spiders, scorpions; you name it but bees, nope! They will attack unprovoked for no reason at all. I have had it happened before in a mine shaft opening. I went no further into the cave. Actually it didn’t look like the cave went any deeper from what I could see standing safely outside. Rather than turn around and go back down the slope I continued the climb up around the side of bee cave and stood on top taking in the wonderful view of the valley down below. Still not wanting to return I traversed the side of the mountain to see what there was to see. Good thing I did for there were a couple of mines along the way hidden out of view from below. Unfortunately the mine safety people had sealed off the entrances with a steel girder fence secured in place. Ah, but one such fence someone had cut away a foot and a half of one of the steel rails. Being as I am a little guy I could just squeeze through the opening. Once inside I discovered that was pretty much it. The mine didn’t go much further than what I saw from the outside. I continued on my trek across the hillside face until almost reaching the stone cabin ruins where I caught a dirt track down from another mine back to camp.
Friday April the ninth rolled around which was Beans’ adoption day when we became partners four years earlier, a happy day for both of us. The next day was Amanda’s birthday. I wanted to take her out for a nice steak dinner or the like for her birthday but it didn’t work out as we were not near any place decent to do so. We had a nice day anyway where I set her up for a desert style soak your feet in warm water pedicure while we drank gin and tonic’s (her) and rum and cola’s (me). I cooked up hamburgers. We sat outside enjoying the afternoon sipping drinks and sharing what we could remember of our fractured childhoods. I seemed to have many more memories of my early years than did she. I mentioned “For all these moments I can recall in my first six years of life I have no memories of my father. The only thing I remember is sitting in his lap one time as we drove down the street to our home and him letting me steer the car.”
She asked if I had pictures of him as she did not have any of her father who abandoned her and her mother early on. “Oh yes. He was a good looking man. He looked much like James Dean. I sure didn’t inherit that from him.”
I told her how my parents were separated when I was five and a half and my mother and I were living at my grandmother’s house. “I recall one afternoon my mother taking me into the back room and sitting me down to tell me I wouldn’t be able to see my father anymore. I didn’t recall the exact wording or even if she told me what had happen−he had been killed by a hit and run drunk driver. I suppose it was incomprehensible to me and I simply got up to go back outside and play.”
Fifty plus years later I attended the funeral of a man who was like a father to me. Tippy filled in the void in my life left behind by the death of my father whom he knew. He included me in along with most everything he did with his son who was a year younger than I. He felt bad for me being tied to my step-father, a man he worked alongside with in construction. At Tippy’s funeral many of his remaining life-long friends were in attendance all of whom also knew my father for they were all of the same crowd having gone to school together and such. I figured this was my last chance since I had no family left to get an answer to a question I always wondered about: Was I at my father’s funeral? I had asked my mother years before and she couldn’t remember. Interesting. One lady, Wanda, was adamant about it. “Oh yes you were there. I remember you sitting up front with your grandmother and grandfather.” I had no memory of that yet I remember being at the wedding of my mother and soon to be asshole step-father (the man my mother was carrying on an affair with that led to the separation) six months later. Why do I remember that and not the other? I asked around if anyone could tell me a little bit about my father. Everyone said he was a kind and thoughtful man who was well liked by everyone. “At least you inherited that from your father” Amanda said. Well that knocked me back on my heels. I thought about what she said. I never had thought of myself as others had thought of my father.
“Why thank you. No one has ever said that to me before.”
We sat in silence while I processed this revelation. It pleased me much knowing I did have in me a little bit of my father, a quality I had never given any consideration.
We both got way too much sun that day. Earlier in the day I had gone out to check all the rubbish heaps looking for a nice tobacco can to put up on the wall with my other collectables. There were well over a hundred tobacco cans scattered about but for some unknown reason every single one had been smashed flat. Well actually most all the cans of any sort were flattened, rusted through or shot full of holes. I finally found one decent tin which would go up along with a baking powder tin lid I had found earlier in the week that I could date to around 1910.
In trying to affix a date to this mining operation based upon some of the artifacts I found I discovered this was all part of the Victorio Mining District out of nearby Gage. The site was established in 1880 with gold, silver and lead being the primary resources mined.
We planned to enjoy our time at Miners Camp as we called it on through the weekend to avoid the weekend travelers before moving on. Amanda had her heart set on some beachside primitive camping (no hook-ups) in a New Mexico State Park along Caballo and Elephant Reservoirs northeast of Deming near Truth or Consequences. Unable to make much sense from the online site where it appeared all camping was by reservation only for the full hookup sites. She finally gave up and called. She got a prerecorded message: “No beach or primitive camping is permitted due to COVID-19 safety concerns.” She was livid! “Well ya know we might spread COVID germs in the sand and contaminate the water so…for safety.” Not only that but all restroom and shower facilities were closed due to COVID-19. So we would be forced to make reservations for full hook-up sites, pay twice or three times the fee to be packed next to each other cheek by jowl but God forbid anyone to camp dispersed far away from their neighbor. There must be some misguided logic there in the COVID prevention decision making of the New Mexico State Park system but we failed to see it. We couldn’t bother dealing with their absurdity and would camp elsewhere.
We left Miners Camp going our separate ways to do errands in Deming and planned to meet up afterwards. I wanted to go to a car wash to clean a couple rugs and also give Gracie the Honda motor bike a good washing off of all the desert dirt accumulated from Quartzsite. The well-used carwash was a dated simple affair with three bays under a tin roof. It had the unbelievably low price of one dollar to wash a car. What happened? Had I passed through a time warp and found myself back in the 1960’s? While trying to make sense of the vacuum machines that had no hoses Amanda pulled in to do her laundry at the laundromat next door. While she washed clothes I found newer vacuum machines in the back of the lot. I sucked out the water from the two rugs and vacuumed the other three. Nearby was a water faucet with no handle, but I was able to turn it on with a screwdriver. I filled my two jugs for the next foot bath. I joined Amanda in the laundry. Inside there were twice the number of signs posted on the walls than one would normally see as half were in English and half in Spanish. So with your laundry churning away one could sit there and brush up on their Spanish while waiting. And like the car wash the laundromat was like no other for one cycle of the dryer seemingly went on for nearly thirty minutes where they are usually only eight or ten minutes. When she pulled her clothes out they were too hot to handle. I was put to work helping her fold her laundry. By now we were hungry and thought it best to eat before going to Walmart to food shop. We drove back up Pine Street to a Mexican restaurant we had passed coming into town. The name was Benji’s. It was housed in what looked like a drive-in diner from the old days with individual parking stalls where they brought your food out and set on trays hanging from your car door window. Today there were several picnic tables set in place out in front and five tables inside the small dining area. We planned to eat in the RV since all the tables inside and out were in use (goes to show how popular the place was) when two tables cleared up inside as I paid for our meals. I texted Amanda to come back in. There we ate in air conditioned comfort with Mexican music playing in the background. We each had the combination plate−chili relleno, enchilada, tamale, beef taco with rice and beans swimming in green sauce. Outstanding! If I lived in Deming I would be eating at Benji’s all the time.
We went on down to Walmart for a few items. I had spotted a water machine outside a Speedy Mart on the way. I told Amanda to meet me there. I arrived and found the machine was broken−OUT OF ORDER. I walked in the mart to ask if they knew of another machine in town and was immediately accosted by the mask-wearing Nazi store clerk. “Mask required!” she barked. I told her I just wanted to know if she knew of another water machine in town. She simply shook her head. The customer standing at the counter was a nice helpful guy who directed me down the road to Walgreens. “They have a machine outside the store.” I thanked him and walked out texting Amanda to go to Walgreens. When I arrived she was already parked. How’d she beat me here? With errands completed and our bellies full we began the hour and a half drive north to the town of Truth of Consequences.
Upon arriving we drove through the nice little town to check out a camp area on the other side. It charged ten dollars for a shelter, a picnic table and nothing else, not even a water faucet (the non-existent cell service was the deciding factor) so we backtracked seven miles to a dispersed camp area along the Rio Grande River. It was free, had good strong cell service plus the added bonus of nearby highway noise. The camp also came with people driving in and around at two a.m. doing whatever people do at two a.m. in the dark. I didn’t know because I slept through it, but Amanda did not. Now to say we camped along the Rio Grande may sound enchanting but the poor river itself was not. The water wasn’t something you’d want to splash around in being stagnant moss and algae covered harboring unknown toxic bacteria laden elements within. We’ve stayed in worse places in our separate travels over the years so this was okay for a day. At least we wouldn’t be exposed to COVID-19 spreaders here.
The next morning I could see across the road from our hard scrabble location the old geezer in a beat up old Ford van pulling a much too long of an Airstream trailer just for him alone was preparing to leave. I sent Amanda a text: “Hey! I think the old fart across the way is packing up.” She texted right back asking if I could get ready to go grab it. It is easier for me to move on a moments notice than her. It turned out to be no great rush for it took the grumpy old curmudgeon (I had tried to be neighborly the previous day and he barely acknowledged my existence) forever to get ready to move. Hours later he finally pulled out and I rolled across the road staking our claim. It was a nice level wide spot with riverside frontage part of which was in the shade of a large cottonwood tree. Being the nice guy I am I let Amanda have the shady spot. Truth of the matter though it was cooler here and I wanted to be in the sun to keep warm. Inside from my dining area I had a nice view of the Rio Grande River complete with abandoned tires along the opposite shoreline. We were much happier at our new spot and decided to stay longer than we had originally planned.
We stayed the remainder of the week there along the Rio Grande River. The water as mentioned wasn’t something we ever considered getting in to. One day I did set up my chair down barely in the water to soak and clean my feet. I immediately discovered just beneath the surface of the sediment there was an inky black gooey mud. This was like trying to remove road tar from your skin. Nope, there would be no frolicking about in the water here. The land around camp was thick with Jerusalem Thorn, a species of Palo Verde which has thick inch to two inch long thorns that seriously inhibited cat walks. Poor Beans didn’t understand why I couldn’t follow behind her in the brush. “I can’t go in there Beans”. I would repeatedly ask her to come back which she is good in doing. Beans is a pretty smart cat.
We left camp on a Monday−the normal procedural wait until after a weekend−to do a few errands in the town of Truth or Consequences before moving on northward. We split up as usual and would meet later, somewhere. I decided to fuel up first then spied a water machine down the road where I filled two one gallon jugs of drinking water and dropped off trash in a nearby dumpster. When I pulled in to Family Dollar afterwards there was Amanda just finishing filling her five-gallon water bottle. Well I could have saved myself an extra stop had I known a water machine was there. I planned to pick up a few items inside. She warned me of them being mask Nazis’ inside and went on her way. Somehow she knew this without having gone inside. My next stop would be Walmart that was unusual in the fact that the parking lot was covered in solar panels overhead. Amanda was on a quest to fill her propane tank finding every place in town closed. She texted me she’d have to continue on up the road to the little burg of Elephant Butte for propane. When I was finished with Walmart she sent another text about finding a taco shop near where she found her propane. “Want to meet me here?” and sent me the information. Well I was unable to put the directions into the GPS. Claire, my GPS girl, had no idea where it was being she hasn’t been updated since I bought her fourteen years ago. I’ve tried to update long ago but my laptop doesn’t want to cooperate. So after getting confused a couple of times I finally found the taco shop, Casa Taco, a most imaginative name. I walked up to her sitting outside already eating. “And you want to be my friend.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer. I didn’t have any breakfast.”
I ordered a two taco dish similar to what she had which cost the same price as that delicious combination platter we had at Benji’s in Deming. My order arrived about the same time she finished eating. She had yet to get gas and was wondering about maybe just getting a day pass for nearby Elephant Butte State Park. She really wanted to sit by the water on a beach. I suggested she go get her gas while I finished my meal and I would swing by the park to see what she found out about a day pass. Were they still in COVID fear mode? Would we even be able to hang out by the beach? Not much longer after she left I got a text: “I just paid $8 for dispersed camping and apparently the showers are open”. What had happened with the New Mexico State Park system that they all of a sudden thought we wouldn’t be spreading COVID cooties in the water, along the beach or in the restrooms?
I finished my meal then drove the few miles to the entrance station. I paid my eight dollars and proceeded on ahead not knowing really where to go. Soon I came across Amanda’s van at the restroom/shower building. I dusted off my bath kit backpack and went on in. No one else was there. It was nice and clean inside. The shower was a push button affair. One push good for a minute then it shut off. The water was cold. Geez. Okay, I can do this. I pushed the button again. I felt a slight change in temperature. With one more cycle I had warm water. Oh thank goodness!” That was a most refreshing bath. Outside I found a fresh Amanda taking photos. We were two rejuvenated humans. We continued on down the road and elected to park up on the well packed gravel ridge rather than risk going down onto the questionable soft sand closer to the water’s edge.
After settling in we walked down the clean sandy slope to the lake. There along the shoreline was a heap of an abandoned collapsed tent and framework. The things people leave behind! Amazing. Nearby was a bright red nylon tarp. Amanda said we could use the tarp to sit on in the sand. We spread it out and I noticed the tie-down cords were still coiled up. This thing, probably the rain fly for the tent, had never been used. Even the tent appeared like new. Amanda noticed it was an Ozark Trails, the Walmart brand of outdoor gear. We figured the people set the thing up, could not figure out how to collapse it back down and pack it away so just left it. It was heavy and unmanageable I would have to admit. I later looked it up online. It appeared to be the Gazelle pop-up tent, price - $279! Just take nearly three hundred dollars in cash, throw it out onto a sandy beach and walk away. Yep, sounds reasonable.
We enjoyed the day near the clean clear brilliant blue waters of Elephant Butte Reservoir. Across the water a mile or so away we could see someone camping out of a small SUV with a tear drop trailer on the far distant shore all by himself. How did he get there? This really bothered us for we wanted to be where he was.
The next morning the ranger came by sporting all types of combat gear including zero personality. I asked about how we could get over to our coveted beach on the other side of the lake. It involved driving through Elephant Butte then continuing on for several miles to a turnoff. We left to go back into town so Amanda could get her gas and a six pack of beer before setting out on the drive to Long Point Drive which supposedly would take us down to the beach we longed for. Once there we took a couple of dirt road turnoffs to the beach but the terrain didn’t look that inviting for a motor home or camper van. Amanda wasn’t too keen on getting stuck in soft sand this day. After a couple attempts and seeing no real option for terra firma plus the fact most of beach appeared to be on a slope (unable to get level) we went back to the pipe in the ground pay station near the highway entrance for lunch. We had already paid the pipe sixteen dollars each to stay here for two days when we came in, now what? While eating lunch a local came by to drop off his trash in the dumpsters clearly marked NO RESIDENTAL TRASH – NO FISH. I asked him about the road directly in front of us, our last hope. Would it be worth going down in our RV’s? He said he wouldn’t recommend it. It wasn’t firm ground. He pointed off in the distance where we should go. “Lost Canyon Road goes right by the fire house over there, by my place then on out to the lake. It is much better for your vehicles; hard packed and level and closer to the water than here.” I thanked him and we took off for Lost Canyon Road. It turned out pretty much as he described and was better than anything else we had come across. After a couple of tries we both got fairly level and called it home, again a few hundred yards away from the water’s edge. Here the water was a milky light turquoise color, not the clear waters we had left behind. Odd. Well looking it up on a Google Maps satellite view it finally all became clear, not the water but what was going on. The water in the reservoir was now so low a land bridge came into being cutting this body of water off from the other. As large as Elephant Butte Reservoir was supposed to be, it was now a chain of smaller lakes of water separated from each other by several land bridges. Back in 1916 when the dam was completed and the lake filled it was the largest man-made lake in the world at 2,065,101 acre feet. Then in 1970 when the Aswan Dam in Egypt was completed it became number one in size. Now Elephant Butte is just a puddle of its former self.
We stayed at Boat Ramp Camp (we later discovered we were camped on the old earthen boat ramp the water now being so low, who would have known that it once was a boat ramp?) until Friday leaving for our next stay on a weekend which is not what either of us normally does. It is always best to be settled somewhere before the weekend warriors arrive. We drove back to the Elephant Butte State Park so Amanda could dump her tanks. We both could also take one last refreshing shower. I came out of the restroom shower building just as Amanda pulled up. A man about my age but even smaller stood by as Amanda and I discussed strategies. Then he asked if I had any duct tape. He was camped across the way in a pickup truck with a tent mounted in the back or on top, I couldn’t tell from where we stood. One of his tent poles had broken. He wanted to make a temporary fix until he could get to a Walmart and buy a roll of tape. Who leaves home without a roll of duct tape? I wondered if he was without WD-40 also. He was a nice guy who said he was thinking about this lifestyle fulltime maybe getting a proper camper for his truck. I would have gone over with him to help out but I was on a mission to go get propane before we left. I didn’t want to hold up Amanda any. I was just going to have him leave the roll of tape on her van when he was finished but instead he just ripped off a foot of tape. I told him about Bob Wells’ Cheap RV Living YouTube channel to check out for ideas and inspiration for fulltime nomad living.
I figured it best to get propane (even though I had over a quarter of a tank left) where Amanda had when we first arrived in the Truth or Consequences/Elephant Butte area not knowing the availability of propane on down the road. After getting confused three times in finding the place I finally succeeded and filled up. The propane station was part of a small RV park. In the office two of the men were packing guns on their hips. The woman who filled my tank was packing her mouth. Yakety-yak! Boy did she love to talk, asking all kinds of questions everything from where I was from to what kind of fuel mileage I got. Back inside the office to pay the owner sporting a big cowboy hat. He was talking with an ancient old woman at the counter who may have been a resident there telling her about an incident last year when two Muslims in Minnesota tried to hijack two propane trucks for whatever purposes Muslim terrorists had for propane trucks ending with “…but you don’t hear those stories on the evening news do you?” They were kind and friendly bunch there at Butte Propane. No doubt I could have come away with a few of good stories to tell, but Amanda had arrived from her shower.
We headed north on Interstate 25 to our next stop. Good thing it was only a twelve-mile drive for the winds were unsettling along the Interstate. We pulled off at Exit 92 to what was supposed to be some BLM dispersed camping. A long dirt road passed by three bare spots in the sagebrush which were already occupied. We drove a bit further. I texted her to hold back and I would go on ahead and scout it out. No sense us both going. After nearly two miles on a narrow single track the road began to deteriorate with nothing looking promising up ahead. I texted her: I’m coming back. I had to back up all those two miles for there was no place to get turned around. This is exactly why I do not want to ever tow anything. Over the years I have become quite good at backing up even at twenty plus miles per hour as I did on this road. Amanda meantime was able to turn around at where she had stopped. We went back to a wide clearing near the Interstate turnoff. This would do fine for a one night layover.
The next morning I left early for Socorro an hour’s drive north to resupply. Meanwhile Amanda left soon after to find a camp spot in the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge out of San Antonio ten miles south of Socorro. I pulled into the Walmart parking lot seeing a police car parked out front. It is always disconcerting to see police cars at a Walmart when you pull in. This though was just a public service table two officers set up out front educating folks about the dangers of drugs. There was a sign taped to the front of the table: DROP OFF DRUGS HERE. Imagine that. “Hey guys. I cooked up this meth a few months ago but now I’ve decided to quit. Here you go. Thanks. Have a nice day.” Done shopping I returned to the RV and put everything away. I was hungry and looked forward to eating my four cheese submarine ham sandwich before pulling out. Wait! Where’s my sandwich? I looked all over. What happened to it? Did I scan it and not put it into the bag? I checked the receipt. It wasn’t on there. I went back to the cart corral. Maybe my sandwich was still in the cart, unscanned and unpaid for? Nope. I had lost my Walmart sandwich somewhere inside the store. I was really disappointed. Now I was even hungrier. Across the way I saw a Subway. I hadn’t been to a Subway sandwich place since the pandemic began. Should I? Hunger won me over. I pressed myself to drive over and parked. Inside were two customers ahead of me, one paying and the other having his sandwich prepared. Okay, not bad. I stepped up to the counter and then all bedlam broke out. Six loud rambunctious twenty-somethings walked in laughing, talking and acting generally silly. Way too loud. Good grief! Well at least I got here before they did. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough as several more piled in to the shop. I had parked on a slope and wanted to get over on level ground to eat. Just then Amanda texted me about finding a spot and was trying to give directions. At the same time a homeless lady with a dog walked up to the window saying something I couldn’t understand with the window up and Beans walking around on the to dash to see her and her dog all the while I am trying to back out. I felt bad but had to leave the woman standing there as some police action with lights flashing had just began out in front of us on the entrance into the Walmart parking lot. It might impede my getting over onto level ground. I texted Amanda I was at a Subway and had to eat before leaving and…”You’re at a Subway?!” Crap! I thought about asking before going inside but knowing she is real careful about eating carbs I didn’t want to tempt her or make her feel bad. I would probably have gone back in for her then thought of all those loud youngins being there went through my mind…nope. I got settled and started on my sandwich. She was having trouble sending directions and asked me to call her. I did where she was able to give me better instructions. I told her she could have the other half of my sandwich if she could wait until I got there. She was happy with that.
We arrived at the entrance to the refuge. I called her again not knowing if I was to stay on the levee or take the lower service road. She said service road. A few miles down the road there she was waiting for me. “Gee, this was a lot easier for me to find than Butte Propane was.” She laughed directing me back up onto the levee, cross over and down into a nice shady woodland of cottonwood trees to an abandoned disused camp area. She had previously explained on the phone one site was in the shade and the other the sun. I told her to take the shade. “You know me, I’m a lizard. I need the sun to warm my bones.” This was a nice camp area. I handed her the Walmart bag with the few items she wanted me to pick up for her plus the other half of my Subway sandwich. “Oh my God! This is so good. What kind of bread is this?” I had a happy woman with me there.
The Rio Grande River was with us again at Bosque (Spanish for woodland) Camp. Here the cold river was muddy with silt but moving along at a good pace. The tall cottonwood trees were the Rio Grande Cottonwood species. The ground was covered with the split seed husks which looked like caramel covered pine nuts. They were sticky and stuck to the bottom of flip flops and cat paws. The cats would walk along shaking their feet trying to dislodge debris stuck on their feet with no luck. Back inside the RV I would try to help Beans out removing these husks which she was none too happy about. My goodness, can’t you understand I am trying to help? Growling and hissing would ensue and at the risk of serious injury…to me…I did my best then gave up before any blood (my blood) flowed. After that first day our walks were confined to the dirt road path between our two camps.
A few days later the weather cooled down to the mid-sixties. Then a system came through with off and on showers. We both were okay with food and supplies but our purified drinking water was a matter of concern. By mid-week we both were down to a gallon apiece. This was the factor that caused us to move on.
It was an hour’s drive to our next destination, Valley of Fires Recreation Area just west of Carrizozo, New Mexico. This was a pay-to-sleep campground operated under management of the BLM. Our main reason for going there was for the showers. It was a small campground with nineteen sites, a half a dozen of those for tents only. The remainder were for RV’s with all but five having full hook-ups at eighteen dollars. We were able to get two of the no hook-up sites at twelve dollars, half off for me being an old person having a Golden Age Passport card. Not Amanda though. She is too young. When we drove by the restroom/shower building it was blocked off with yellow cones. They must be cleaning. I walked back down there to deposit our fees in the pipe after getting settled and having taken Beans out for her exploratory inspection walk. I was appalled at the sign posted between the cones: DUE TO THE COVID-19 PANDEMIC THE SHOWERS ARE CLOSED. Absurd! Well it is a Federal agency so I should not have been surprised. I sent a photo of the sign to Amanda. Wow! was her response. Guess she took it better than I. I stuffed the fee envelopes back into my pocket and walked back. I told Amanda I wasn’t going to pay the full fee. Since non-campers were required to pay the day use fee to use the showers then I was going to deduct the day use fee (three dollars) from my camp fee. I handed Amanda back her envelope with her twelve dollars I had loaned her since she didn’t have the exact amount. “You can do what you want.” She threw the envelope up on her dashboard.
After lunch we went off for the nature walk through the lava field close by. There was no volcano or cinder cone. Five thousand years ago the lava simply oozed out of the ground through cracks in the earth. On our way back a man stopped by in his work vehicle to say hello. We learned he was the camp host. Now was our chance to vent. He was a nice guy who like us thought the edict of closing the showers was stupid and so we ended up having a lively good-natured visit.
Daniel was from Missouri. He had been a long distance truck driver until an accident ended his career with a broken neck and metal rods holding him together. “Schoolie truck drivers!” We learned a new term. He said he was glad not to be out there on the road with all these new truck drivers who have no driving experience. “They learn everything in a class room, do a few backing up exercises in a truck, drive through an obstacle course of cones and are then certified to drive a semi-truck. They put this young guy in a brand new Peterbilt truck and sent him on his way. He hadn’t driven no further than that building over there (pointing a couple hundred yards away) going over forty miles an hour. He blew right through an intersection T-boning me in the passenger side of my truck. That was the end of his truck driving after only a quarter of a mile. It was the end of my career and almost my life.” Now Daniel was a fulltime RVer. This was his third year as camp host at Valley of Fires.
“Yeah, just imagine being here with no one else around for the better part of the season last year when the government over-reacted and shut the entire place down due to COVID-19.” I told him my plan to deduct the day use fee. It didn’t seem to make much different with him one way or the other. “Let your conscious be your guide.”
I asked how often they empty the fee pipe. “They collect the fees whenever they feel like it.” So I knew then it wasn’t his responsibility and most likely he would not be the person to come by later checking tags.
We finished our walk and returned to camp. Amanda had been chewing on this situation for awhile and had made up her mind. “I’m not paying at all now.” I threw my envelope with money enclosed up on the dash next to the receipt tag which there was no post to clip it onto. How do they keep track and check on campers paying? If someone came by, I’d have my few words then give him the envelope. No one ever came by. We left the next morning. Now I will say this was the first time I have ever stiffed a campground of the fee expected. It isn’t my way of doing things. This issue was just a matter of principle. Had they compensated the fee of the services denied the visitor−the pleasure of a shower and flushing a toilet−then I wouldn’t have thought twice on the matter. I had learned some facts: COVID-19 virus is transferable in a shower where you are showering alone, or using a flush toilet where you are pooping alone but the pit toilets and numerous water spigots around the campground, they are safe to use as COVID-19 cooties cannot thrive there. That’s government thinking for you.
We were both now out of purified drinking water. Taking a screen shot of Family Dollar from Google Maps in the town of Carrizozo four miles away showed a Glacier Water machine out front of the store. When we pulled in to the Family Dollar parking lot though there was no machine. Inside I picked up two bottles of Crystal Geyser water as did Amanda. At the mask-free checkout I asked the lady if there was a water machine elsewhere in this small town. She said there was over at the Valero station across the intersection. Amanda took her two bottles back to the store shelves while I paid for mine since she had already rung me up. We drove over to the Valero where I filled my other two empty bottles while she filled her five-gallon jug.
We continued on for less than an hour of driving up into the Sierra Blanca range, through the small town of Capitan where outside of their Family Dollar store people were filling water bottles at a Glacier Water machine. Arrgh! Six miles further we arrived at Cave Canyon Campground at the Fort Stanton-Snowy River Cave. It was a small five-site BLM campground, free and with no COVID-19 tomfoolery. Arriving on a Saturday is never a good thing to do but luck was with us having only one other camper there, a single guy from Illinois is his small one-person tent. Later in the day I received a text from Amanda. “Have you tasted the water we got? It’s horrible! They need to change their osmosis filters!” And she had returned those two bottles of Crystal Geyser purified water too. Ha!
The cave itself sat at the entrance to the campground. The cave is over forty-two miles long with thirty-five of those miles mapped. It is the 11th longest cave in the U.S. and 43rd longest in the world. Today it is cordoned off with eight-foot tall chain link fencing topped with coiled barbed wire. Heavy duty chains and five hefty padlocks secured the gate. It appeared the wood steps down into the cave entrance had not been trod upon in years. All of this was for the protection of the bats residing within. They are vulnerable to White Nose Syndrome, a fungus which could be brought in by humans on their clothing from an infected cave elsewhere. I was okay with the cave being closed to protect the bats. I am not okay with showers being closed to protect people from unfounded mindless government policy making.
Nearby camp down the slope and into a ravine was an exposed limestone embankment hollowed out with little mini caves. The cats loved exploring these. The next day Amanda and I went for a short hike following the ravine not much further where it fizzled out at a dirt road crossing. We continued on a bit further not seeing anything all that noteworthy then turned back for camp. The next day Amanda came by and asked if I wanted to go for another walk to check out the other campground. “What other campground?” I didn’t know there was anything else around but she had found something looking on Google Maps satellite view.
We walked on down the road past the cave, turned and went up another dirt road around the backside of the hill across from us. There we topped out into a wide level clearing for dispersed camping with no one else around. We stood there looking at each at each other. Amanda and Louie were becoming ever-increasing annoyed with people near us. I wasn’t all that thrilled with being in the hollow of a shallow canyon with the sun not cresting the mountains until well past mid-morning. She was thinking of moving on but I wasn’t too keen on moving for it meant facing a shopping excursion at Walmart in Roswell. Now we both were thrilled with the prospect of moving up top and staying longer.
“Capitan is only four and a half miles away. We can hit that water machine at the Family Dollar.” This sounded good to me. We cut through the woods back to camp, threw things in, drove out and around up the hill. We dumped all our “bad water” into her water tank for her camper van (she like me does not use the RV water tank water for cooking or drinking). She then left for Capitan while I stayed back guarding our new site. No sooner did she leave it started raining turning into hail. An hour later she returned with pizza!
We spent three more days at Top of the World Camp when reluctantly it was time to move on in as much as we did not want to. Amanda had a summer job to be at in ten days near Dallas, Texas. I on the other hand didn’t have any place to be but surely wasn’t looking forward to a resupply at Walmart in Roswell, New Mexico. We pulled out of camp and drove a few miles back to see Fort Stanton. The fort is one of the best preserved 19th century forts in the country. It was built in 1855 as a military base against the Mescalero Apaches. Confederate forces occupied the fort in 1861 during the Civil War. It was later used as a sanatorium during the tuberculosis outbreak of the 1920’s and then during World War II a detention center for German and Japanese Americans who were arrested as “enemy aliens”. It was nice to get out and walk around the old parade grounds. Along the perimeter of the parade grounds stood the officer’s quarters, enlisted men’s barracks, hospital and quartermaster supply. Many of the buildings held equipment from that time period and were well staged. Best of all there was only one other couple wandering around.
It was an hour drive down out of the mountains to the flatlands where we instantly noticed the heat. The temperature was near ninety in Roswell. Shopping went rather smoothly with no COVIDiocy to contend with. The town of Roswell is infamous in the supposedly crash landing of an alien space craft nearby in 1947. Roswell has capitalized upon this with hundreds of little green men in all shapes, sizes and forms advertising places of business. Judging by some of the characters seen in Walmart it wasn’t too difficult to conclude some of these individuals were clearly from another planet.
Amanda had received a gift card to Jimmy John’s sandwich place for her birthday the previous month. She was eager to cash in on it finally now we were back in civilization. “You want a sandwich? I’ll get you one too.” I walked into a Jimmy Johns a couple years ago somewhere. I was overwhelmed with the choices, turned around and walked out. So there we stood in the frozen food aisle of Walmart her showing me the sandwiches to be had on her cell phone as she was going to place an order online. Things were no different for me years later−I couldn’t decide. ”Just get me what you’re getting” which turned out to be a turkey avocado something. I was approaching the checkout when she texted me she was on her way to get the sandwiches. After self-scanning a hundred dollars worth of food I was on my way back to the RV. No sooner had I got things inside and the cold stuff stored she pulled in next to me. She came inside flustered at being shooed out the sandwich store and made to stand outdoors in the drive-up lane to retrieve our sandwiches. She has an understandably low tolerance for COVIDiocy. I was hungry and had to eat. She planned to eat her sandwich later. During all of this the weather turned sour with storm cells rolling through, wind whipping and rain pelting. She went back to her van to put things away while I ate. She had filled up with gas while on the sandwich run and asked me how I was set for fuel. I could make it to our next town but getting it now would be best. We couldn’t move on until the weather settled down so I went to the Valero station a mile down the road where she had fueled up. By now the wind was like a hurricane. I opened the driver’s door to access the fuel port on the cab. The wind blew out an empty water jug and my seat cushion. I had to chase them down before they wound up in Texas before I did. Lucky it didn’t blow out a cat. Beans was smart and had retreated to the rear of the RV.
Back at the Walmart parking lot we waited a half hour more then headed on out eastward to Tatum near the New Mexico/Texas border an hour and a half away. Storm cells chased us the entire way. Wind, rain, hail, lightening, all types of excitement; the only thing missing was the tornado. I swear I saw one off in the distance. The hail was frightening. We took shelter at a well placed roadside rest. The ground was white with ice pellets. For sure I expected a cracked windshield but neither of us sustained any damage. We sat for a half an hour while Amanda tracked storms. We had only thirty more miles to go to Tatum. She asked what did I want to do? She didn’t want to be driving in the dark nor did I. I suggested we go for it and if things go bad again just pull over. Other than wind and rain we made it fine to a little city-run RV park for travelers. It was free and had room for five to seven travelers. These little city parks are usually nice. More small towns should have them for they do bring in a little revenue for the businesses. Randolph Rampy RV Park was different than most in that it even offered free electrical hook-ups something I think I have only seen one other time in my travels. No sooner did we get settled we were pounded by another storm cell. Later after things calmed down I relaxed reading my book when the wind suddenly kicked up once again at eight-thirty p.m. This time it rocked the RV with such an unnerving force I was sure “This is it...tornado!” We made it through the night to a bright clear calm sunny morning.