New Mexico Experience I

Our trip to New Mexico did not follow our original plan. When we arrived, we went directly to the rental car counter, got fixed up with an AWD vehicle, and immediately went to have lunch at one of two Las Cuates restaurants that are just blocks from one another. Ours was very much a place for locals: a few business people whose suits and ties looked oddly out of place; air-conditioning repairmen wearing dark-as-night sunglasses and elaborate tatoos; a young Hispanic family with charming kids who mezmerized me with their smiles as they ate their ice cream cones; and a few other assorted folks who, combined, represented a melting pot of cultures, languages, and, I suspect, attitudes and ideas. I like places like that, where I am one of a very few middle-aged white people. I learn a lot when I'm in places with diverse clienteles. Here, I learned that (at least from appearances), no one there cared that others were different. No one seemed jittery about large tatooed men sharing the restaurant. No one objected to the overly-loud conversation between three men who were talking about the perils of ignoring religion (though I have to admit that I felt like challenging them, but thought better of it). No one seemed to care that some people ordered in Spanish and some in English. There seemed to be an attitude that should be pervasive in restaurants: we're hungry and we came here for the food, not the culture. For me, though, that in itself is 'the culture.'

Our original plan had been to visit Alburquerque the first day; wander the neighborhoods, visit some museums, just get accustomed to a city environment that's utterly different from Dallas. But my wife suggested we head south, instead, since we'd rarely explored south of Albuquerque. So, off we went, in search of something south. The sign is an example of many we saw during our wanderings.

A few miles north of Socorro, we decided to explore a bit, so we got off the highway and headed east. Almost immediately, we came upon a small collection of houses, spaced hundreds of yards apart, and small canals. The roadsides were green and lush, a beautiful respite from the deadly dullness of the interstate. As we drove down a dusty road along a canal, we came upon a for-sale sign on a pretty little adobe house. On a lark, we called the number and found that the place had a contract pending. That was too bad. The place was situated on two-plus acres and had a small fruit tree orchard along the side. The canals, we learned, led from the Rio Grande, just a few hundred yards away. It was a place where I could have envisioned living and growing fruits and vegetables and hiking over to the Rio Grande and sitting for hours on the banks, just watching the river flow by and waiting to catch a glimpse of birds and fish and all manner of creatures that rely on the water for sustenance and security. I spoke to the realtor for quite awhile as she tried to convince me there were other places close by (all with much more acreage) that I'd like to see, but finally said goodbye and promised to call her if we wanted to see some of her other properties.

We jumped back on the interstate and headed south to Socorro. My wife had read about an old church building there; it sparked her interest, so we got off the freeway and explored, albeit briefly.

A quick stop at the local chamber of commerce office, doubling as a visitors' bureau, gave us access to literature about another attraction that interested us. That attraction is the Very Large Array radio telescope on the plains of San Agustin fifty miles west of Socorro. As we made the fifty-mile drive west from Socorro, we watched the topography change from mountainous and green to flat and beige. The change was stark as we neared the location of the VLA; the mountains seemed to just disappear into a vast plain of tall grass. We were't quite sure what to expect to see as we neared the VLA, but we knew that each of the huge radio telescope dishes is 82 feet in diameter, so we assumed they would loom large from the landscape. As we drew close, they did, but the vastness of the landscape was so overwhelming that the dishes did not look imposing until we were almost upon them. Each of the dishes is imposing; collectively, they are almost overwhelming. Understand that this place is in the middle of nowhere (I mean that in the most positive way, really), so finding it was only the first task. Next, we had to try to understand it. Fortunately, there is a small display and a film inside the visitors' building. We took in all the information they could give us and the proceeded to take the self-guided walking tour. Considering the distance of the VLA from any city of town of any size, I was surprised to see three or four other couples there, taking in the sights. One couple struck up a conversation with us and the woman remarked that they travel by the VLA twice a year on US Highway 60 and said "we've been driving by here for so long we thought we ought to stop and see it up close."

After visiting the VLA for a couple of hours, we continued south, but this time we took a state highway, 52 I think. As we left the VLA area, we spotted a herd of pronghorn grazing not far off the side of the road. My wife noted that the road was a dirt/gravel road and that it should be that sort of road for about 10 miles. It seemed OK, though, and I said it should not be a problem for just a few miles. We drove about 50 miles south on that short gravel road...and it got progressively worse the farther south we got. It had not taken many miles on the road to leave the level plain behind us and to reach fairly rugged hills.

The upside was the fact that, for about 40 of those miles, we were the only vehicle on the road. It was utterly desolate and void of signs of people, for the most part. There weren't even any telephone poles for the majority of the trip south. At some point, after the quality of the road took a turn for the worse, I commented that I hoped the car would not break down...it would take years for "them" to find us. I checked my cell phone and, sure enough, no signal.

Occasionally, we'd stop the car and I'd turn off the engine and get out, just to listen and take in the solitude. It was extraordinary. Nothing but wind and an occasional bird call. The sky seemed larger than I'd ever noticed it to be. Everything seemed small. The car, the two of us, even the mountains, seemed tiny against the sky. Somewhere along the way, I saw a snake slithering across the road. I decided to stop and get a photo, but I didn't want to get too close in case it turned out to be a rattlesnake...so this photo is not very clear.

When we finally got off the gravel road onto black top, we were at a pretty high altitude. The drive southeast toward Truth or Consequences, NM was a series of switchbacks at very slow speeds. We'd talked earlier about going to White Sands, but being slowed down by the gravel road and aproaching dusk made us decide to stay the night in the town named after a game show (prior to 1950, it was known as Hot Springs, so called because it had a number of hot springs and the obligatory spas that accompany such natural riches). Truth or Consequences is not a bustling metropolis. Its population is about 7,400. There are a few motels, a number of small restaurants, and assorted attractions. Probably the most attractive of the attractions is Elephant Butte, a community that is directly on Caballo Lake, a reservoir created by damming the Rio Grande. We did not know anything about Elephant Butte, though, until we left Truth or Consequences after staying overnight in the Comfort Inn.

I've spent enough time on this for today, so rather than wait any longer, I'll post is now. More about our New Mexico adventures, and my more recent adventures with The Sprockets travelling circus, later.