A Drowned Rat

I woke up this morning to rain on the tent at about 5:30. Somehow I managed to go back to sleep just long enough for the rain to subside, and it held off long enough for me to have coffee, enjoy a few more breaths of high altitude air, and pack up camp.

I stopped off at the Chamber of Commerce in Cloudcroft to use their Internet, and I encountered another thing that I miss a lot about living in New Mexico:

Sure, we have them in Seattle, but not nearly as many, and they seem more active here. Maybe it's just more nostalgia on my part.

I left Cloudcroft to the east, and almost immediately hit rain. It wasn't much, so I kept pushing through it. By the time I reached Artesia I was ready for a break and some coffee to warm me up. I pulled into the 76 station got some coffee and got on the phone to try and find a meeting in Pecos, TX. While I was on the phone it started to rain harder, and within 5 minutes the streets were rivers:

They were full from curb to curb with 1 - 3 feet of water. If you have never seen this in the desert then it is hard to believe, but it happens. You see, in a place that doesn't get rain very often the city planners don't spend much time on water drainage. So when it does rain really hard the streets fill up. I wasn't going anywhere for a while, so I made some other phone calls, chatted with the attendants, and watched the rain come down.

After about an hour I decided I would just get a room in Artesia for the night and call it a day, but as I was riding out to go find a hotel the 'tide' started to go out and I saw clear sky toward Carlsbad. I decided to go for it, and to my surprise it was clear and sunny the whole way. I had gotten pretty wet leaving Artesia and as I looked down Highway 295 toward Pecos all I saw was black, so Carlsbad was as far as I was going. Good thing too, because as soon as I got my bags into the room and the bike parked it started to pour again. I had made the right choice.

I looked up a meeting in Carlsbad and found the Carlsbad Group. The trouble was that I didn't want to get back on the bike and get all wet again, so I called the hot-line a few times to see bout a ride, but no answer. So I stayed in, ordered a pizza with pepperoni and green chile (because you can do that here), and sat back to rest up for tomorrow.

Right around 8 o'clock I got a phone call from Jerry, one of the guys I had talked to about a meeting in Pecos. He just wanted to check in and see what had happened to me during the rest of the day. I can't think of any other organization on the planet where people wolf do something like that. Amazing!

We chatted for a bit about the trip and it turns out that he knows someone with contacts on the east coast! And this came up right after Jerry had told me that things always happen the way they're supposed to!! How does this always happen?! I am starting to understand now that this trip is totally out of my control. Thanks for being a great teacher Jerry.

To end the day I got to see this:

One great thing about storms like today is that they make the sunsets incredible!

P.S. Check out Jerry's Blog!

Home again (sort of)

Well, I got a good night's sleep in one of the creepiest Motel 6's I have ever stayed in. Overall it was fine, all I really wanted was a bed and a shower, and that's what I got. Besides, you can't expect too much from 33 bucks a night, right?

When I was having my coffee I realized that it feels good to be back in New Mexico. Last night I had a green chile cheeseburger, and today I had green enchiladas. I am a happy man!

I decided to make it a short day today to make up for yesterday, and I wanted to spend the night in the mountains, so I set my sights for Cloudcroft, NM. I made a stop in Las Cruces to visit Bob, and had a wonderful time having lunch and catching up. He even reminded me of the time I got in trouble for saying the "s" word in the cafeteria in elementary school. Apparently he has fond memories of the way my dad reacted to the punishment; writing "I will not say the "s" word in the cafeteria" 50 times. Well, guess what Mr. Principal…Shit! Shit, Shit, Shit!! Ha!

Ok, now that I have that out, Bob and I went to lunch (the enchilada) and then he gave me a little driving tour of Old Mesilla, a little town tucked in next to Cruces that looks like old Mexico, but only because it was, before the white folks came along. It was nice to catch up with an old friend and see that he is still the gentleman I remember. Thanks, Bob.

Coming out of Las Cruces there was a fantastic view of the Organ Mountains:

I love to see the sharp rising mountains coming out of the desert. Classic New Mexico.

On the other side of the Organ Mountains I rode through White Sands Missile Range. All the side roads were guarded by men in fatigues carrying automatic weapons. It's good to be home…

While riding through the range, waiting to come across White Sands National Monument, it occurred to me that it is strange that we commemorate the place where the most deadly weapon on earth was first tested. Not only was it once native land to the tribes here in New Mexico as evidenced by the beautiful petroglyphs throughout the range (no one gets to see them though because of the guards.), but it was also home to a battle between the white man and the Indians. And then, to top it off, we test weapons there! What are we thinking?!

After the range I went through Alamogordo and up into the mountains. The road climbs 4000 feet in 18 miles but is surprisingly straight. It was nice to have a few turns though after spending days in the desert riding in straight lines. As I was coming up I saw a logging truck coming the other way. Now, I have seen a lot of logging trucks on this trip, but not in several days, and it was comforting to know that I was headed into the forest again, even if it's just for a night.

The meeting was the Cloudcroft Group, consisting of Charlotte and Mike. (They tell me there are more, but I am not convinced…) We read a story out of the back of the book and it was the perfect reading for me to hear. The story was so much like mine that it was eerie. I can't believe I've never read that story! Thanks, Cloudcroft Group.

After the meeting Mike led me out to a campground that was going to be perfect. As I was setting up camp I kept thinking about how nice it is to be in the New Mexico mountains. The high desert is a magical place and it makes me feel at home. It's cold up here (8000 ft) and threatening rain, but listening to the wind in the pines and aspens, the crickets chirping, and the occasional bat flying by makes me nostalgic for a camping trip I took with my mom. We went to Bandelier once for a night and I remember it being one of the best camping trips ever. We didn't do much of anything, just camped out for the night, but it was wonderful. A few years back my mom informed me that all she remembers was that she was drunk the whole night. I didn't care, it was still a great trip.

The last thing about the high desert that is unforgettable are the stars. Even through the patchy clouds the are incredible:

It it weren't for the threat of rain I would sleep out gazing at them all night. It's good to be where I am.