Hello from Colorful Cold Colorado

Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument

So beautiful- reminded us of Cappadocia in Central Turkey

Windy hike to the top

Slot Canyon

Cliff dwellings at Bandelier National Monument

Climbing up to a dwelling

View of the valley from the dwelling

Cliff dwellings

Rio Grande Gorge Bridge

Palisades at Cimarron Canyon State Park

A Beer with Melinda and Tricia in Colorado Springs

Back to winter

Guadalupe Mountains National Park to Colorado Springs

We've been on the road just over a month now. 4983 miles, 9 states, 19 hotel rooms, 2 campsites and 1 rented apartment.
We have a pretty good travel routine. Staying in some chain hotels (La Quinta mostly- dog friendly with every 9th night free due to the rewards program.) Also some very pleasant independent motels along the way. We book the night before or on the way to our destination. Also figure out sights to see as we go or just run into interesting things. Not a ton of planning.
In the morning we have our hotel breakfast or we'll bust out the camp stove and make our own. The hotel breakfast is pretty mundane and I stick to raisin bran, banana and yogurt. Mike's a little braver and will occasionally try the hot breakfast items like biscuits and gravy or make-your-own waffle.
Charlie gets really nervous when we pack up in the morning. Worried we'll leave him. Ideally he's the last to go in the car (with his bed) but he tends to find an opening as we shuttle our things into the car and makes a mad dash for his place and we have to stuff things around him. The back seats in the wagon are flat so he has a pretty big space to stretch out in. He mostly sleeps but if we slow down a little he perks up and puts his head in the space between ours to see what's up. Also invades the front seat area if we're eating- looking for a handout and drooling on our shoulders.
Mike has driven 99% of the time. We try to keep our mileage to less than 200 miles except for a couple of longer days. We also try to avoid the interstate when possible but going in and out of cities you just tend to find yourself on miles of road with strip malls and traffic lights. The best smaller roads have been in the wide open spaces of Texas and New Mexico.
My very important jobs (since Mike does most of the driving.)
-Reading the map and navigating. I'm really not as bad as Mike says I am although I am quite dyslexic with the right/left thing. I always have had a problem with this but maybe it's getting worse or there are just dozens of opportunities a day to mess it up when you're on a road trip.
-Music/Podcast selection. I like to pick music that is relevant to where we are. In Memphis- Graceland by Paul Simon, Pride (In the Name of Love) by U2. Country music in Nashville. Crossroads by various artists in Mississippi. Kermit Ruffins in New Orleans. Miles and Miles of Texas by Asleep at the Wheel driving across Texas. You get the idea.
-Googling. Before this capability I guess we just wondered about things without finding out the answers. An example- We were driving out of Santa Fe on Thursday and we had to get on the highway for a few miles. As we drove along we saw a number of people in bright orange vests just walking down the shoulder. Usually alone, sometimes in pairs. After a few miles we noticed port-a-potties here and there and then a sign with an arrow: Santuario Walkers. It was Easter week so I guessed that it might be pilgrims? Then I googled it and found this out-
http://www.elsantuariodechimayo.us
I was also led to this podcast-
http://www.npr.org/2013/03/29/175722033/thousands-of-pilgrims-trek-to-new-mexico-chapel-on-good-friday
Now I guess we could have lived with out this knowledge but it was good to find out and it sure gave us a huge respect for these folks walking down the highway. Of course Googling isn't always an option. There are still vast parts of our country with no cell service and that's OK, too. We just have to wonder.
-Snacks. We get pretty sick of eating out. In fact, we try to limit ourselves to only one meal out per day and really only if we can eat something delicious and regional. Fried chicken in Nashville and Memphis. Fresh oysters and boiled crawfish in Mississippi and Louisiana. Barbecue in Texas. Green Chili Burger and Mexican in New Mexico. We have avoided fast food except for one shared sub at a Subway back in Indiana. We stock a cooler with road food- fruit, cheese, hummus, veggies, crackers, bubbly water, beer, coffee fixins'. We've been to many Trader Joes along the way to restock and have enjoyed their beet, edamame and regular hummus as well as the Indian meals in the foil packets, nut mixes etc. One of my jobs is to unbuckle and lean over the back seat and reach into the cooler to get Mike a snack, but only if an appropriate amount of time has passed since the last meal. He has this tendency to get hungry (hangry) every 20 minutes, even after a large meal, and claims he'll faint from hunger, and he's STARVING!!! It's a wonder that he's not 300 pounds with the amount of meals/day.
-Dog whisperer. Charlie has taken to panting. A lot. We're not sure if it's from the dry weather or the altitude or nervousness or boredom or pain (he has arthritis on his left front that has gotten much worse the last few months.) We keep him well hydrated and give him pain meds as needed, but still he has this habit of sitting with his face in between our faces and panting loudly. It's not something we notice at first but then it gets more obvious and louder until it's annoying. At that point is where my dog whispering comes in. I turn to him and say in a whisper- Charlie! It's OK, you can lay down. He stops panting and then turns to the left (always) and goes to his bed and lays down. Works 95% of the time. I'm magic!!
So I'm kind of like the cruise director and Mike is my captain. Charlie the first mate.
We're in Colorado Springs now. Heading up through Northern New Mexico and got to see some more amazing sites- Tent Rocks, Bandelier National Park, Rio Grande River Gorge. As we left Taos we found ourselves on a very winding road leading up to Raton, where we got on I25 to Colorado Springs. We crossed over a couple of mountain passes and found ourselves in the middle of the Cimmaron Canyon State Park where we had a picnic beneath the Palisades. Beautiful and unexpected.
The next few days we'll be on the front range visiting  family and friends. Last night we got to hang out with Melinda and Tricia- old Mackinac/Marquette friends. Today we'll see Mike's sister Karen and her family. On Monday we'll head up to Boulder to see Mike's sisters Jan and Jill and their husbands and finish outfitting for the Utah Canyon Lands/Grand Canyon part of our trip.
We have run into snow again. I'm not totally prepared for full on winter but Mike has busted out his big red down jacket. I remain in denial with a fleece, windbreaker and light boots. Hopefully the snow will be fleeting and we'll have sunny warmish weather from here on out.

More New Mexico

White Sands National Monument

Charlie loved the sand

Beautiful dunes

Camping on the Rio Grande

Charlie loves to camp

Our sweet little apartment in Santa Fe

The best dog park ever in Santa Fe

Cathedral Basilica of St Francis Assisi in downtown Santa Fe

The Roundhouse- State Capitol of New Mexico

Rotunda

Enjoying the rotunda

The best art collection- Buffalo from found objects

New Mexico continues to surprise and delight.
White Sands National Monument is 275 square miles of gypsum sand dunes. Super soft fine white sand as far as you can see. We walked around bit and Charlie rolled in the sand. It was the weekend and the park was filled with families who came for the day to picnic, dig in the sand and "sled" on the sand on plastic saucers.
After we left there we found some camping to make Mike happy. A little campground on the Rio Grande River near Truth or Consequences. Mike's been anxious to camp more, but while the days have been pretty warm, the nights get very cold in the desert. It's probably our last camping for a while since we're heading north.
Our next stop was Santa Fe, where we rented a really cute apartment a couple blocks from the main plaza. It's so nice to stop for a few days. Do some laundry. Cook some food.
We love Santa Fe. I could imagine staying here for a few months in the winter if we ever decide to settle down someplace. Great food, art, bikable and a dog park with views of the mountains.
And--bonus!-- just a few blocks from the state capitol. My favorite so far. (Mike says I say this about every capitol building we go to.) The building is round- hence the name The Roundhouse. It's in the adobe style of most of the buildings here. Very thoughtfully laid out. Simple and elegant with an amazing art  collection.
Heading north to Taos then on to Colorado. I expect we'll run into some snow in the next few days. 

Land of Enchantment

El Capitan- Guadalupe Mountains National Park

El Capitan on the left and Guadalupe Peak- highest point in Texas on the right

Natural entrance to Carlsbad Caverns

Speleothem

Pool

In the Big Room

Unexpected view on the way to Alamogordo- Sacramento Mountains

Windy

Handsome guy!

We crossed in to New Mexico at the Guadalupe Mountains in Northern Texas. There's a really nice National Park there.  Beautiful mountains that are a part of the Chihuahua desert. Really rugged landscape with the occasional green area fed by natural springs. Just across the border--30 miles north-- is Carlsbad Caverns National Park. This week has been really busy because of spring breaks in Texas and New Mexico.

When we got to the Caverns we were warned that the elevators were out of order so we would have to hike the whole way. I guess usually most people would take the elevator down and then tour the Big Room, which is pretty flat, then take the elevator up. The hike down through the natural entrance is 800+ feet down on a series of switchbacks that cover about 2 1/2 miles roundtrip. Once you get down there it is another 1 1/2 mile to tour the Big Room. We were thinking that hiking down and up would be good training for the Grand Canyon. We were feeling in pretty good shape but we saw a lot of people struggling and my butt was sure sore this morning after all of that climbing. 

Today we headed over to Central New Mexico so we can see White Sands National Monument tomorrow. 

We are continuously surprised by how beautiful this country is. We left relatively flat ranch land in Carlsbad and within 90 miles we were in beautiful mountains covered with pines and the occasional patch of snow. Charlie was pretty excited to run around in the snow and sniff around without any danger of cacti, but now we're back in the desert.

Heading off to do some camping tomorrow to keep Mike happy, then I get my three nights in Santa Fe in little apartment we rented close to the main plaza.

The Wrong Side of the Tracks

        Here in West Texas the Interstate speed limit is eighty miles per hour—seventy on all other highways.  Which, as we all know, equals roughly eighty-five and seventy-five respectively, give or take, to stay below the level of speeding ticket.  Probably ninety and eighty (though I wouldn’t know, as the V-dub maxes out at something like eighty-seven on the flats.) 

At those speeds, things come and go rather quickly.  

Our last night in Texas was in a Red Roof Inn—located on the last of three exits marking the strip that was Van Horn.  We had come from Alpine, TX, and were charmed by its artsy, educated aspect.  No Interstate belt-sanding its manicured flanks, no Union Pacific Railroad tracks stitched scar-like across its belly.  

Shell Oil ran a commercial through my youth, in which a smiling engineer extolled the virtues of a product (by-product, really) of Shell’s refining process, which amounted to a puck-like grease disk, about twice the size of a silver dollar.  He palmed a stack of these beauties like so many poker chips as he stood next to the quiet hulk of a semi truck tractor, its broad fifth wheel coupling exposed and ready for a trailer load.  As he spoke, he tossed these disks onto the black steel surface, and explained their function as a lubricant between the two grinding steel places.  They effectively eliminated the need for a messy grease gun and, supposedly, demonstrated superior longevity over same said grease.  

While walking Chuck, I took a minute to gaze eastward down the center of the strip, and reflected on the lifeblood of Van Horn, squeezed like so many grease disks between the interstate to the south and the railroad tracks to the north. Just behind me was a ramshackle dwelling with a wooden sign tacked to its facade advertising Rocks for Sale.  Behind that loomed the skeleton of a defunct billboard and its attendant light, hanging vulture-like off the end of a twisted, heat scarred wooden post.  Across the street was the shiny new Red Roof Inn sign, lighted from below in klieg light brilliance  And it occurred to me how hard it must be to sell rocks.  To get someone to slow down enough to even realize there were rocks for sale, were one so inclined, in the shadows of this corporate shine.

Our night’s lodging marked the end of Van Horn’s Interstate Business strip—roughly two miles worth of restaurants, hotels, and various transportation-related services all hoping to snag a few dollars from the fast-moving river of Interstate 10.

On the north side of the strip ran the cinder-bed tracks of the Union Pacific Railroad, whose trains pulled double stacks of steel container boxes and primary-colored tanks of industrial fluids.

After Chuck peed and pooped and stuck his nose into various piles of disgusting road shit I took him back to the room and pulled on my running shorts.  The strip was a sucky place for a run, but this driving life is turning me into a cream-puff, and bathing suit weather is right around the corner—so a girl needs to get what she can!

I worked the shoulder, running right smack into the sun and cursing my lack of foresight in not packing a billed cap.  The road had a steep crown, which, coupled with the gravelly edge, exacerbated my distress.  But I pressed on.  Then, to my left, I spied behind a used car lot the railroad tracks and what appeared to be a service road running alongside.  Aha!  Maybe some respite, if not from the sun, at least from the angled grade and smell of cars.  But it was not to be.  The service trail soon petered out, and I was faced with the choice of the strip, or clambering over the roughly ten foot high cinder bed to see what the other side of the tracks held. I chose the latter, which was harder than it looked, as the chinks of rocks rolled and gave under my weight, forcing me to crawl cat-like up the slope.  

When I reached the tracks, I saw the other side held a stocking yard for pipes and machinery which (I later learned) supplied the oil pipeline snaking its way through Texas.  My gaze fell on the shiny tracks at my feet, which spooled out in a painfully straight line toward the rising sun.  Then, leaping from tie to tie (they were placed at seemingly random intervals, which made it more of a challenge than it sounds) I continued my run toward what appeared to be a water tower and a gathering of high, shiny lights.  The former said: habitation.  The latter: football.

Sure enough, after ten minutes of toad-hopping from tie to tie, I came to a road which crossed over and headed into a small settlement of humble one-story homes with—invariably—small angry dogs chained in the yards.  As I plodded along, I kept one weather eye on their straining, bunched frames as they growled and barked their displeasure.  The other scanned the road for sticks, rocks, or old, discarded shoes I might wield in self defense should one of these beauties manage to slip their earthly bonds.  

My general target was the lights of the football field, which, at that point, I didn’t even know to actually be a football field.  But, you know, Friday Night Lights echoed in my thoughts, and I was curious to see just what kind of temple might rise out of such humble circumstances. 

I chugged along in a north-easterly direction and then, there it was!  A well-manicured parking lot, white lines drawn like soldiers in parade formation, leading up to a field house and fence which flanked a matching set of high silver bleachers and an impossibly green field, punctuated on either side by yellow goalposts.  Not opulent, but well-tended.  Crisp, clean lines.  And no dogs, which allowed me to gaze through the fence undisturbed.  

“You want to run on the track?”  I hadn’t noticed the fellow in the stands.  He smiled and indicated with a nod the soft, loamy track surrounding the field.  Tempting.  But I was feeling some niggling strains below the knees, and thought about Chuck and Rebecca back at the Red Roof.

“No, I don’t have the time.  Nice place.”  

“Thanks.  We like it.”  I figured him for a janitor or maintenance guy, though I didn’t see any tools, other than a big ring of keys on his belt.  

“Is that the high school?” I asked, indicating a smallish building across the field.  

“For now.  We’re trying to build a new one, but, you know…”  He smiled, seemed to invite conversation.

“How many kids?”  

“We’re class two-A.  About six hundred.”

“Is that astro-turf?”  I indicated the brilliant green of the field, and wondered if this was even a word anymore.  Astroturf.  

“We switched over a couple years ago.  Hard to keep up with natural grass out here.”  Right.  I took in the crisp red and white scoreboard, EAGLES blazed in black across the top.  The shiny white stands, the concession house and ticket office.  I could see it, the whole town coming out on a Friday night, the boys in their red and white uniforms under the lights, a pool of life aglow in the dark desert.  Standing up for themselves and each other.  A brotherhood.

Of course.  At eighty miles an hour, this looks like a forgotten place.  A bleak place getting ground ever finer by a changing world dynamic.  But a closer look suggests otherwise.  Something essential which is celebrated and nurtured by, among other things, the cheering of boys pushing each other in the desert night.  

My thoughts bounced from dog attacks to football to the selling of rocks as I made my way back over the tracks to the stitch of road which is also Van Horn, Texas.  

Big Bend Country

The Jersey Lilly- office of Judge Roy Bean in Langtry, Texas

Chuck and Mike

Chisos Mountains

Casa Grande

At Santa Elena Canyon

Chisos Mountains

Quirky little place we stayed at in Terlingua- outside of the National Park

Just another pretty vista

Fun little town we stayed in

We hiked to this favorite place of the college students at Sul Ross State University

McDonald Observatory

Mike telling time

Checking out some sunspots

Mike with his trusty steed and dog

They call it Big Bend because that's where the Rio Grande takes a turn for a while to head north before heading south again and on to the Gulf. Just across the river is Mexico. Every once in a while we go through a border patrol checkpoint. We'll pull over and the border agent will stick his head in and ask us if it's just the three of us and then we'll go on our merry way. This area is part of the Chihuahua Desert. Blasting hot during the day, cold at night. Not much water and lots of unfriendly critters- scorpions, several types of poisonous snakes, fire ants, javelinas... I couldn't help but think about how desperate you would have to be to try to get in to our country via that route. Such beautiful scenery. The roads are winding and around every corner is something more beautiful.

Heading north now. On to the Guadalupe Mountains and New Mexico...