Tracing Mississippi

This morning I was headed east of the Mississippi! It was like crossing into a whole new territory, more places I've never seen. Crossing the river, however, was not nearly as exciting as I thought it would be. I was expecting a bridge similar to the Astoria Bridge earlier in the trip, but it was just a short little thing, and the river was pretty much a big mud puddle. But I was on the east side! I'd made it to Mississippi.

I had been looking at the map last night to see where to go and found the Natchez Trace Parkway, so I took a left at Jackson, MS and headed up one of the coolest roads I have ever seen. Every state needs to have a road like this. It's a National Park, so there are neat things to see all along it, they don't allow any commercial vehicles on it, so there are no trucks, and there is almost no traffic at all! Sure, the speed limit is only 50, and it was mostly straight, but it was totally worth going slower to not have to deal with traffic. A lot of the road looked like this:

So, the story of the Trace is that it was the old way to travel from Nashville, TN to Natchez, MS…on foot. It was a trail that was used by the Native Americans in the area and then later used by the white man to get back and forth. People would bring their goods down the rivers on log rafts to sell in Natchez or New Orleans, and then sell the rafts for lumber and make the 445 mile hike back to Nashville, or somewhere in-between.

Along the way there were primitive inns and stops for essentials, but it was still pretty much wilderness. They say that most of the old Trace looked like this:

Can you imagine hiking 450 miles just to get home with some money just to start the trip all over again? The ingenuity of human beings, and especially Americans is truly remarkable. And then you would encounter things like this along the way (without the bridge of course):

It is a Cypress swamp, and although I have carved a Cypress knee I had forgotten that they grow in swamps.

It was surprising how still it was in there. It was as though nothing had moved for years. I kept hearing frogs jump into the water, but never actual got to see one. I would turn around to look and not even see a ripple in the water. Eerie.

Toward the end of the Trace I met Danielle, a Canadian also riding a motorcycle around the US. Her trip is a little more aimless than mine, but it was fun to talk about the things we have encountered. It was reassuring to hear that someone else felt that from Northeast Texas on has felt less friendly than the West and Southwest. I had thought that it was just me. It's not that all the people I have seen are jerks or anything, but simply that I have had less free-flowing interaction with strangers the last few days. It was nice to meet Danielle and feel that I am not the only one out doing this. Check out her blog!

When I got to Tupelo, MS I went to find a meeting. I found one, and waited until 8pm but no one showed. Then I remembered that there was another 8pm meeting in Tupelo, so I got an address, and went searching. And search I did. The address was for the hospital, with the extra direction that it was in the rehab building. I figured that was easy enough, but I didn't know that it was the Northern Mississippi Regional Hospital, and therefore gigantic! I drove in circles for at least 30 minutes before I found the signs with our logo on them, and then went and tried every door on the building and couldn't get in. Just as I was about to leave I saw the one door I hadn't tried, and it led into a warehouse and then into the rehab building. Just like us to be stuck in a corner where no one can find us. Needless to say, I was late, but it didn't matter because I got a chance to hear a few people speak and share a bit myself. I also had the chance to remind myself that I have gone to much farther lengths to find a drink. It was nice to be among the family again in a new place. Thanks, Fellowship Group!

Out of place

You will all be happy to know that I was not carried into the swamp by centipedes and eaten by alligators, I just had a mostly peaceful nights sleep in the hot stickiness of Huntsville State Park. But then I got to wake up to this:

The park was pretty peaceful in the morning without all the unknown critters hiding in the shadows. I did notice, though, that the squirrels moved extra slow in the park. I am going to say that it is a result of the heat. All that fur and the heat cannot feel good.

As I was leaving Texas I realized something that I forgot to mention earlier about the state, the highway system. First of all, the speed limits are almost all at least 75 mph. I am pretty sure that it's because the state is so damn big and it takes forever to get anywhere even if you are going 80. But more importantly, the signage is strange. Anti-littering signs actually say "Don't Mess With Texas," and signs that say "Obey Warning Signs - State Law" are seen all over the place. It makes me wonder why they need to post those signs… Most of the warning signs are pretty much understandable; yellow diamonds with a fire truck to indicate a fire station, warnings about reduced speed limits, "Share The Road" signs with a picture of a motorcycle, sharp right or left turn warnings, etc. All pretty easy to understand and obey. Then they throw a wrench at you, a yellow diamond warning sign that says "Church." What the hell am I supposed to do to obey that? Are they telling me to go? Do they want me to slow down and pay my respects? What is it that they want from me here? I want to "Obey Warning Signs," but I am unsure what I am being told to do… Ahh, Texas.

I got out of Texas fairly quickly today and found myself in Louisiana in the rain. I wound up completely soaked by the time I reached Leesville, so I stopped to change into dry clothes and put on my rain gear, and then it stopped raining. Damn!

I rode on and stopped in Alexandria (It is worth noting that the next town over from Alexandria is Ball, LA) for something to eat. I wound up going into a place called the American Grill because I really needed to eat. It was an old Quizno's that had been converted into a "grill." I am not entirely sure what all they served, but the recommended the cheeseburger because it was soaked in Au Jus. And they were right, it was pretty awesome. And way better than any Quizno's I have ever been to! Hands down.

I quickly realized that I am the minority here in Louisiana, which is not bad, just an observation, and something that I am really unaccustomed to. On top of that, just being in the South is a little weird for me. Up to this point on the trip I have been in places that are more or less familiar to me, but this is all new to me, and strange.

Toward the end of the day I got to ride on some smaller country roads and see the farm land and bayou a little bit. This place in fascinating! There is so much water! And Alison was right, it's a different kind of green here than I have ever seen.

It turns out that there is some kind of relationship between cattle and cranes here:

I am unsure what it means, but they are paired up all over the place.

I was also struck by the amount of junk that has been put to good use around here. Unlike some other rural parts of the country where there are little piles of junk in the middle of fields, they have made things useful:

It makes me wonder how many times that field was plowed with that plow before it was retired to gatehood.

I was struck with several opportunities to be grateful for my life today, I saw a lot of people buying single tall boy beers in brown bags. I know that this happens all over the place, but this is the first time on the trip that it has been so in my face. I mean, I even saw a guy in the passenger's seat of a car taking pulls off a liquor bottle. It makes me extra cautious about other people's driving to say the least.

I wound up attending the Delhi (pronounced Del Hi) Group tonight. I first went to the address I got online, and it was a locked up warehouse. So I went back to a gas station to do some research and when I got off the bike I saw Bruce. I didn't know he was Bruce yet, but I did know that the blue book he was carrying looked familiar. I asked him where the meeting was and he pointed to the church across the street! Brilliant!

The meeting was great, although it was a podium meeting, and I still get a little panicked about standing up in front of everyone. I had a very nice time at the Delhi group, and was grateful that it had decided to rain only when we were in the meeting.

I finished the day with a chicken fried steak at a truck stop diner. Dude bless America! What else can I say.

Oh, right. I was also greeted by this guy here in Delhi:

"Welcome to Louisiana!"

And one last thing. Forget about brain injury and death and all of that, I would still wear a full face helmet because of this:

I would think it was the bird size moth from last night if not for the sharp "crack" it made hitting me.

Go ahead, laugh, but I was scared

It's official, Texas is crazy! And not because of the people, although I have never been called "sir" so often as I have here. First of all, it's huge! They're not kidding. When I came into Texas on US 295 I thought, "Wahoo, I'm in Texas." I knew it was still a long way to San Antonio, but I didn't realize that after riding for a full day in the state I would just barely be getting there. And then, that's only like halfway across the state!

Evidently the size of the state lends itself to having multiple climates and landscapes that are fascinating to me. I know that most states are sort of like this, but none of them are quite as dramatic in my opinion.

Coming through Pecos I was thrust into the oil desert part of West Texas. Although it looked green from one angle, closer inspection revealed that it was all desert brown with little green sprouts to trick you. And it's flat, really flat. The kind of flat where you can see the curvature of the Earth looking at the road in front of you.

Then, getting closer to San Antonio there are suddenly hills, out of nowhere. The hills are also covered with Live Oak and Juniper trees. How did this happen? I could also see, where the road was cut through the hills, that the is no soil to speak of. It's all rock and I have no idea how the trees take root in it.

It does, however, make for stellar scenery:

This shot was taken outside of Blanco (pronounced Blanko) where Steve has a little BMW shop called Blanco Beemer Werkz. Thanks to Steve the bike has new tires and fresh oil for the next leg of the trip. If you ever go see Steve, be warned that he has a vicious guard dog named Roxanne.

Alright, back to the Texas weirdness. Coming out of the Hill Country headed East I suddenly wound up in the forest, and didn't even see it coming. They call it the Piney Woods because it's, well, piney. It's beautiful, for sure, especially the back roads that are tree lined and have farm and ranch land all around. This was also where I saw crop farming for the first time in Texas which I found a little surprising. I had imagined much more farming being done here.

The drawback of the Piney Woods beauty is that the average relative humidity is somewhere around 142%, so it's damn hot, always. One guy that I talked to has lived here his whole life and says that he's been cold twice, and didn't like it either time. I believe him, this is hideous.

I tried to make it to Point Blank, TX for a meeting, but got started late, as usual, and had to get work done on the bike, so I wound up in Huntsville (pronounced either Huntsvull or Huntsveele) at the Huntsville Group. When I arrived there was a sign in the window saying that all 8pm meetings had been suspended until further notice, except Monday. I'm not sure why, but I thought that today was Tuesday so I started to get ready to leave. Just then someone pulled up - we were going to have a meeting after all!

It was a great small meeting, and I welcomed that after all the convention madness. And I even got to hear someone sing some of the opening readings! That was a first for me. (Thanks, Huntsville Group)

After the meeting I went to eat with DW and Tom, both native Texans and genuinely great people. We talked about Texas most of the time because I am fascinated by it and they seemed to like telling me about it. I had a wonderful time, but had to leave early because the park I wanted to camp in closed the gate at 10.

Huntsville State Park was easily the most exciting part of my day. I realize now that I should have checked into the wildlife I would encounter in places I was going to camp. I've camped in places where I knew what to expect; bears, raccoons, chipmunks, squirrels, snakes, that sort of thing. But I was not prepared for this. The trees are buzzing with cicadas and something else, the trees are booby-trapped with with giant spiders, there are all manner of giant dive-bombing bugs (including a moth the size of a bird), and…wait for it…alligators. Yeah, alligators! And to top it off, everything is crawling with centipedes. I know they're harmless, but they are damn creepy. Thank Dude I have a tent! I just hope the centipedes don't carry me and the tent down to the lake where I will be eaten by an alligator. Here's to hopin'.

50,000! Really?!

What a crazy few days!! Early Friday morning I got a call from Mike, a friend from California that I was going to share a room with. He and I talked for a bit and he decided that he was going to spend the weekend with his family at home and not come to San Antonio. We talked about the importance of listening to the whispers and doing the next right thing. Then he told me that he had already paid for the room, and that I was more than welcome to keep it even though he wasn't coming! Only in our club could something like that happen! It is a favor that I am not sure I will ever be able to repay. Thank you, Mike!

I had no idea what I was getting myself into by coming to this convention. Walking around San Antonio there was a sea of people all attending the convention and here for one primary purpose. Incredible!

The most amazing thing happened after I registered and was ready to wander around. I went to the information desk and I asked them where I could find a meeting and they had to look it up!! I was just looking for the closest thing I could find to a regular meeting. I appreciate the value in a panel of speakers in a meeting, but I still believe that the real magic happens in a plain old discussion meeting.

In any case, I found the closest thing, and it was still a podium meeting. The room was packed with people from wall to wall. At one point, and I am not sure when, or what the guy was talking about, I was overwhelmed by a feeling that my mom should be here, and that I miss her.

The truly miraculous part about being here is that I feel like I can talk to just about anyone, because we have this common bond that ties us together it makes approaching someone incredibly easy. During the ride from the hotel to the big opening ceremonies meeting I talked with Junior from Newfoundland. I was amazed at the number of topics we were able to cover in that 40 minute ride. We also spent some time talking with a woman from Italy, and she pointed out the idea that each one of the people here has a family that has been restored, has become a productive member of society, and has a peace and serenity in their lives that carries on to others around them. The ripple effect is tremendous. It's a wonderful thought to ponder in mediation in the presence of all these people.

I met up with Dick and Tammy from home for the big meeting and it was nice to see some familiar faces. Like the meeting earlier, I got far more emotional during the meeting than I thought I would. For some reason the flag ceremony starting with a member of the Apache Nation got me going. Something about it made me start to tear up a little. Then the moment of silence got me too. There is something about 50,000 people (really, 50,000) being absolutely silent that is tremendously powerful! Then at the end of the meeting I really started to lose it when we all said a prayer together and someone performed "Amazing Grace." Again, I wished that my mom could have been there for that, despite the fact that she would have hated being around all these people. It's almost too much for me, and I am far better at it than she ever was.

As we filed out of the stadium I was feeling a little lonely and sad, when I saw a woman standing on a bench with a "Free Hugs" sign around her neck. I asked her for one, and it was just what I needed. I felt immediately better. It was so nice, in fact, that I went back for another. She asked if I was having a rough night, and I told her that I wished my mom could have been here and I lost it again. She let me cry on her shoulder for a bit and introduced me to her friends. I felt better being among them and am incredibly grateful to Liz and her friends for being in the right place at the right time to be giving out free hugs to the guy who needed them.

I found my way back to the hotel on night on exhausted but feeling grateful and serene.

Saturday started a little slower for me here at the convention. I needed some extra rest and time to myself. I finally made my way to the shuttle a little before 2 o'clock. Now, I still haven't really learned about reading directions yet, so I was not aware that the shuttle was not supposed to run until 3. It turns out that the driver was taking a new trainee around the route to show him the way, and they showed up when they weren't supposed to. That was when I found out that 3 was the magic time, and when we got to the transfer station the next bus really wasn't going anywhere until 3 so I had some time to kill, which was good because I was hungry and not at all interested in convention center food.

When I got to the conference I went to a meeting for a bit and then was alone again to try to find something to do. That was when I remembered that Paul, a guy I'd met in Boston was around somewhere. I found where he was and went to hang out with him. I am not sure I can express how grateful I am to have had the opportunity to hang out with Paul and the rest of the Boston Crew that night. There is something about all you Boston guys (and gals) that makes me feel I'm part of the family even though I just met you. Thank you all for being real and being there right when I needed you. I don't know that I can ever thank you properly.

The big meeting today was an old-timers meeting and all the speakers had 40 or more years. All told there were over 575 40+ year-olds in that building and the energy was great again. Again I got choked up a few times, but I guess I was supposed to.

On the ride home I met some other young people and had the opportunity to share with them how beautiful Mandy's and my relationship really is. The friendship we have developed is like no other I have ever experienced, and I miss her terribly. I do, however, really enjoy the fact that she and I have relationship that allows us to have our separate lives and separate recoveries that meet in the most joyous place. Thank you for being the coolest girl on the planet, Mandy!

Sunday here in San Antonio I was spent. I had been on social overload for too many days in a row and so I spent quite a bit of time at the hotel. I learned that I am not the best convention attendee because I am not willing to keep going once I get overloaded, and then I start to think that maybe I didn't get my money's worth. But I felt satisfied with what I did and what I saw.

The big meeting was in the morning and I went down to it on three hours of sleep because Susie from Boston told me I had to, and someone told me a long time ago that if someone says you need to be somewhere then you should be. The speakers were some of the best of the weekend and I had a chance to say goodbye to the kids from Boston. That was perfect, but I needed a nap after.

I got in a short nap and then went to take a photo in front of the Alamo with all the other folks from Washington. It was neat to see how many of us showed up!

The rest of my Independence Day was spent trying to rest my body to get back on the road. I saw a glimpse of some fireworks from the window of my room, and had some Texas BBQ for dinner. It felt nice to relax and it will feel even better to spend some time on the road alone again...

P.S. Out of respect for our spiritual foundation I will not post any photos from the convention. Sorry, guys.

Doing the deal

I first want to apologize for the delay in getting this post up, it has been a crazy exhausting couple of days.

That said, getting to San Antonio was quite the adventure…

I left Carlsbad, NM early in hopes of getting to San Antonio early enough to get registered for the convention and wander around a bit. Then someone else had other plans for me…

Evidently I was meant to set a new personal best for miles ridden in a day, and 551 miles later I arrived in San Antonio. The amazing part is that it didn't even feel like it until I stopped.

So here's what happened:

I made the run from Carlsbad to Pecos, TX without any problems, the day was looking wonderful, although a little rainy, and once I hit Texas traffic was nonexistent. When I stopped in Pecos for a quick rest I encountered a drunk Indian intent on telling me a story of some kind. I can't, for the life of me, tell you what the story was about. Between his drunkenness, lack of teeth, and Texas accent communication was a lost cause. I mostly just stood there and nodded, occasionally throwing in a little chuckle once in a while to make it seem like I was following him word for word. Then his ride showed up and he was getting in and I understood him perfectly, this was the important part for him, he said to the driver, "I need a beer." The words came out clear as day, and I was immediately grateful that I did not have to be searching for a drink at 10am just to feel ok with the world.

I got back on the road and headed for Fort Stockton where I stopped again for some food. When I was getting ready to leave I encountered Oswaldo, a fellow motorcyclist headed East. I asked him where he was headed, and he said San Antonio. We had a brief talk about it being nice to run into each other, and he introduced me to Raphael, also headed the same place.

Oswaldo, as it turns out, was coming from Juarez and Raphael from Tucson. They spoke to each other in Spanish and I tried to hop in when I could in English. We all said that we hoped to see each other over the weekend and off I went. This all seemed fairly innocuous, but a nice exchange given our family bond.

A little way down the road I stopped at a rest area to get my raingear on because the sky ahead was looking ominous. I got caught up talking to a trucker about bikes and meanwhile watched Oswaldo ride by on his bike and Raphael pulled in for a break. We said hello and then went on East.

This is where things started to change. I was on track to get to town about 6:30 despite the long ride. I was excited and had been keeping my talks with people short to get back on the road. About 20 miles past the rest area I was about to pass Oswaldo and he waved me over to the side. He pulled up next to me and pointed at his gas tank - he was out of gas. I had just enough to get me to Ozona so couldn't help.

Because I had seen Raphael at the rest area we waited for him. We talked a bit about the program while we waited. Raphael showed up and he had just enough gas to get him to the next stop too. We all looked at each other, puzzled, and then they started talking in Spanish and looking at the back of Raphael's truck. They wanted to load the bike into the truck. (Keep in mind here that the truck is a 1980's Toyota, and the bike is a big stretched cruiser.) I looked at the bike, and then the back of the truck and my senses told me that there was no earthly way for it to fit, so I offered to make the run to Ozona to get gas and come back. Raphael said, "You'd do that?"

I said, "Well, we all need to get to San Antonio, right?"

They both shrugged, and I rode off to the east leaving them there in the rain.

It turns out that Ozona was 28 miles down the road, so I made a hot pit stop to fill my tank and the empty water jug from Raphael's truck, and headed back to the west. This is the point where I started to be amazed by the way things work. Under most circumstances I would have been a little irritated by the delay, but instead all I could think about was the two of them out there waiting in the rain. As I approached them I didn't slow down. I had to go up the road an extra 8 miles to turn around. When I finally pulled up Oswaldo said to me, in his broken English, "I thought you weren't coming back." I explained the delay, and we all had a little laugh about it.

I parked the bike and Raphael filled me in on the conversation they had been having about simplicity and service. They had covered a lot of the topics that I had covered in my head. Amazing! I was delighted to know that they had been able to have a little meeting while I was gone. From there we planned to ride together and stop in Ozona for gas and food. (Oswaldo thought he owed me a cheeseburger. He didn't. And still doesn't.) But somewhere in the wet mess of cars and exits I lost them coming into Ozona.

I got gas again, tried to find them in the small town, ate some food, and got back on the road.

Meanwhile, I found out at the next rest area, they had looked for me and decided to eat at a restaurant four doors down from where I was! (Oswaldo had also run out of gas agin coming into town...) We had just missed each other. We talked a bit, and I got a phone number for Raphael so we could meet up later, and off we all went.

Then I made one last food stop and they rolled in shortly after me. We said hello again and they left. I finished my food, talked with a group of women from California who were also headed to San Antonio, then geared up and made the final run into town. The moment I came over the hill and saw lights of the city, I got excited. This was going to be great!

I didn't make it to a meeting today because I was spent by the time I got into town, but I was on the path with a bunch of other folks in the fellowship today, and I think that counts. (And no, Brian, I am not going to start the 60 over. Mandy would hurt me. Severely.)

To top it all off, I had a place to stay with Betsy and Whitey again, and got to have a terrific talk with them on the porch before going to bed. (Thanks again, guys. It means a lot!)

Today was an incredible day! I was surprised with myself the whole day, that I didn't once get irritated with how long it took to get here. I was just really grateful that I had the chance to do today just the way it happened.

P.S. I didn't take a single photo today except this one when I got to the hotel.

I never go to touch the cat. He just stood there staring at me and then ran the second I moved.

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.