The heat of southern Texas sent us fleeing north. We thought we’d do an overnight in El Paso on the way to New Mexico, but the traffic and the dust and the madness of the city at rush hour was too overwhelming so we pushed on, stopping just north of the city for a quick dinner and our first night in a Walmart parking lot. There were several other RVs, vans and overland vehicles sheltering near the butte at the edge of the parking lot and we spent a surprisingly calm and restful night. We took advantage of being in a commercial zone to do laundry and stock up on fresh food before continuing on to our campground in Elephant Butte State Park (EB) where the views and the breeze promised balmy evenings and at least a little cool during the day.
One of the odd things we’ve noticed about camping in state or national campgrounds as opposed to RV parks is that people mostly stick to themselves. We may wave at our neighbors, but the interactions usually stop there. Campers in RV parks tend to be friendlier and more approachable. One of my theories is that spaces in RV parks are generally quite small, so you’re physically much closer to your neighbors and naturally have less privacy, so you’re more inclined to chat them up. Another idea is that people go to state and national campgrounds to escape into nature, so they’re looking for more quiet and solitude—unless people are camping in groups as we saw in Austin and as we recently saw in our current campground over Easter weekend when some groups got a little rowdy.
One of the nearest towns to our EB campsite, Truth or Consequences (T or C), is an artsy catchall sort of place, which all kind of misfits and renegades call home. One of many hot springs towns in the Southwest, T or C has an unconventional spirit and a friendly, quirky vibe. There are lots of hot springs related businesses—spas, hotels, and motels and the prices for soaks start around $15 for two for 30 minutes (the water is extremely hot, so longer would be tough). Many of the overnight options grant access to public tubs and some of the hotels have long-term stay options. All in all, it feels like a good place to get away, relax and occasionally run into other people. We were there for their well-renowned second Saturday Art Hop when all of the shops and galleries open their doors, serving snacks and hosting a variety of live bands. Most businesses, except for the brewery and a couple of the eateries only open on the weekend so it was a good opportunity to see a little action, talk to the locals, and listen to live music.
The brewery doesn’t have a kitchen, so hungry patrons can place orders at the restaurant across the street and have them delivered to their table. We ate our excellent burgers and drank our excellent drinks around a fire pit on the back patio, and chatted with the other people around the fire. One was a native of Silver City, NM, and gave us some excellent camping suggestions for our next destination in the Gila National Forest. Two others were transplants from Santa Fe, and a fourth was a film maker living part-time in Albuquerque and part-time in T or C. All were there for the Art Hop and as a group they introduced us to the grittier side of this small town. We followed them from the brewery to a “members only” dance club where the DJ played old, obscure music from the ‘80s and ‘90s, and a fussy bartender in leather waistcoat and top hat reluctantly served his patrons. The filmmaker also gave us a secret tour of the old movie theater she and a group of other investors recently purchased before dragging everyone back to her place to finish the night off with a soak in the hot springs tubs on her back patio.
During our nine days in the T or C area we stayed pretty put (aside from our one big night out), reading, writing, and working on the camper. Originally, we wanted to camp in the Lincoln National Forest, which would have considerably reduced the mileage of our first day trip, but the campgrounds don’t open until May 1st so we had to make do with brief first impressions and a few short hours in each place. Cloudcroft is a tiny ski town (though we never did find the slopes) nestled in a section of the Lincoln National Forest. We stopped there for a picnic lunch and a short hike before driving through the Mescalera Apache Reservation to Ruidoso, a larger ski town to the north. This area reminded me a fair amount of the North Carolina mountains and Ruidoso felt a bit like a smaller version of Asheville, NC. We took a quick walk along the main strip and then relaxed over a brew and a game of Rummikub (Honey beat me relentlessly) in a local brewery with a lovely second story back patio.
This big loop kept us busy until it was time to head back to White Sands National Park for the ranger-led sunset tour. The ranger takes you on a 60-minute stroll through the dunes, giving a short lecture about the dunes and their unique ecology. Our ranger was very enthusiastic and put on a great show for our group of around 82 people. The dunes are mesmerizing and their constant shifting with the elements means the landscape changes with every visit. Recently, the park archeologist discovered petrified human footprints, which carbon dating placed around 20,000 years of age—3,000-4,000 years earlier than when humans are generally theorized to have crossed the landbridge from Russia to Alaska! Those humans arrived on a continent on which other humans were already living! This rewrites human history on this continent and upends decades of historical certainty. It’s amazing how much we think we know, when we actually know so very little and suppose so much about life on this planet.
During the second half of our stay in EB, the weather turned very windy. After a couple of days spent inside Chérie!, we decided to get out and drive north towards Socorro in the hopes of finding something more exciting to do. Little did we realize that when the wind blows in NM it blows everywhere! We tried stopping at the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge for a walk, but the wind was unrelenting. We’d also planned on visiting the Mineral Museum at New Mexico Tech, but they were closed for renovations. Thoroughly frustrated by the failures of the day, we ate our packed lunch in the car while we considered our options. Returning to camp for another day indoors felt entirely unappealing so we opted to keep going north to Albuquerque, in spite of the wind.
Luckily there weren’t many people on the road (we were grateful not to have the camper) because the gusts were no joke. The Old Town neighborhood where we spent the afternoon is a well-designed grid of low, mission-era adobe structures, with beautiful alcoves and flower laden courtyards (presumably to provide refuges from the wind) organized around a central church square. Lots of Native American jewelry and tourist tchotchkes line the shop windows, while coffee shops, wineries, and restaurants make it a lively place to walk around. Strolling through the alleys and popping in and out of stores gave us a welcome reprieve from the wind. All of this intense activity (haha) worked up quite an appetite and we stopped at Sawmill Market to have a look around and see if any of the food options looked good.
These modern indoor food stall markets have really revamped the indoor food court experience. There’s a similar place in West Palm Beach where we went a couple of times with our friend Kate, who graciously hosted us for our first several months in the States. Sawmill had everything but a seafood place and after going around to all of the vendors, we settled on a Southeast Asian place for a noodle bowl (me), bao buns (Honey), and pork skewers to share. It had been a long time since we’d had anything Asian so the freshness and the flavors were a real treat. Albuquerque has a reputation for being unpleasant and full of crime, but it’s a place we both would gladly return to for a longer visit. Even if it’s not on our list of potential places to live, we enjoyed both the city’s smaller size (500k) and relative proximity to other areas we’d like to explore.
As much as the desert has its charm, the constant beating of wind and sun has wrecked havoc on my skin. My face, lips and hands have been chapped since we left the Texas coast and my jar of shea butter is disappearing faster than I could have imagined. Honey is faring a bit better in the 7-10% humidity of New Mexico, and Goya, back in her ancestral lands of the Chihuahuan Desert, is in top shape. She used to be quite the hunter of chihuahua-sized prey like flies and grasshoppers when we lived on the island. One day, I even caught her chasing a bleeding lizard across the deck, after having ripped off its tail. She was so proud. In our last few days at Elephant Butte, she frantically chased and caught (and ate) any flying insect unfortunate enough to find its way into the camper. She also caught a bee with the resulting stinger in her gum leaving her listless and uncomfortable for hours on end. We haven’t seen this type of behavior from her in over two years and its a joy to think we might finally have made it over the hurdles of knee injury and recovery from a very invasive surgery, in spite of the occasional insect mayhap.
Our two weeks in the desert, have left us parched and ready for a landscape with trees and greenery. As I wrote in my last post, there is something deeply magical about the sparseness of desert vistas and the ecosystem is profoundly inspiring. But. In our time there, never content to leave well enough alone, I kept imagining ways to rehabilitate the landscape so that it could support trees and taller shade providing life. Honey kept shying from the heat and the beating sun. The honest answer to our query about whether the desert could be a long-term home to us has been answered in both of our hearts by a firm and resounding “No.” Would we return to visit and travel here? Absolutely, but it would always be a temporary thing.
If you have suggestions for places we should hit up as we continue our travels west and north through Arizona, Utah, Nevada, Oregon, and Washington, put them in the comments. We’re planning our route as we go and are fully flexible with what direction we take.