The New Mexico Trip
Last week I took a trip out to New Mexico to help G move. I kept a loose travel log. It follows:
Day 1 was 5/14 but I didn't start keeping a log until
Day 2. 5/15. Friday.
1:21 p.m.- Middle West Texas. The vegetation is less varied, consisting of what look like small oaks to my eye, shrubs, and wild grasses and flowers. We're driving in mountainous territory climbing over and racing down, sometimes surrounded by the sides of a mountain that were cut out to make way for the road. The engine whirs excitedly every time it drops a gear to ascend steeply, then my ears pop on the descent. We stop in Kerville and it's my turn to drive after sandwiches.
Later that day- West Texas.The clouds covered the sky. They were wispy at first, like pulled cotton, then as the sky darkened with rain, ominous patches appeared here and there. The clouds here looked like boiling water facing down on us. We passed beneath them and escaped the rain that fell behind us. Large black stone jutted out from the inside of smooth brown hills.
10:00p.m. Driving through El Paso, I look down into the Mexican city of Juarez and beholda sea of halogen street lights. It's like I'm looking down into the night sky filled with orange stars. There are so many that the density is startling. It could be that I've rarely seen a city from above like that or that Juarez is indeed a huge city. The air is noticeably dryer than in Jacksonville. I feel it first on my hands and lips. They both feel tight. I miss Hannah
Day 3. 5/16. Saturday.
9:30 a.m. - Las Cruces. Me, G, and Spencer walk out into the desert behind Spencer's house. We bring Spencer's two dogs, Cory and Sean. The area is spotted with cactus and yucca. There are hills and mountains in the distance and I feel a deep urge to go hiking. I went back out to the desert a day or two later and saw many hares and rabbits. I wonder now if they were more scared of the dogs or if I was just more observant the second time. I dreamt of kissing Hannah last night. Probably because of the dry lips. That afternoon we all went out to La Cueva rock. It is a large rock formation with a cave in it that used to house a Spanish hermit a couple centuries ago. He was a monk healer until Apaches killed him, Spencer said.
Day 4. 5/17. Sunday
We hike up the mountain next to Le Cueva. At the base we met four or five deer, I can't recall. They would perk up their big ears and look at us each time we approached closer down the path. We reach many small peaks along the way to the top of the trail. Spencer rests at one point with his wife and me and Dave hop up some rocks and under branches. I love moments like this. I love hopping over and under things, running through the brush and discovering these little nooks where nature lives in privacy and is most beautiful. I see a dry, mossy pool full of leaves rotten to the veins. with colorful winged insects here and there. I spy several puddles, both with butterfly wings in them.
That night we go out to eat Mexican.
Day 5. 5/18. Sunday
Me and Dave drive up to the Breathe Inn in the Gila Mtns. Here he will work for the summer, before coming back down to Las Cruces for school in the fall. It's about three hours north of the town so the owner is giving him a room in the motel to stay. We enter and meet the chef/manager. His name is Bob. He is affable and a skilled cook. He tells us that there is no cell signal this high up. I check my phone to confirm this and, upon seeing that he's right, breathe a sigh of satisfaction. It is indeed this remoteness that I so love about the wilderness. To cut the tether that ties me to the rest of society takes a great weight off of my shoulders. Bob makes us a veggie burrito with green chili (delicious) and a hamburger. He lives in a room adjacent to the kitchen and tells Dave that if customers ever arrive and he's asleep to just round the corner and bang on the door to wake him up. We unload his belongings into his room which is average for a motel room but big enough for his needs. At this point it hits me that this is where he'll be from now on and not thirty minutes from my house. I tell him that I'll miss him dearly but we both know that this move will afford him many more opportunities than staying in Jacksonville would. We step out and walk the grounds before we get too teary. The animals there are something to observe. Dozens of hummingbirds zip past me with different pitched trills. Other birds are black in the shade and bright blue in the sun. One is what I assume an oriole having never seen one before. But a bird I could not see had the prettiest call of all. I can only liken it to a warbling flute sound. That is the sound that people heard when they thought of a babbling or singing brook.
The rest of the trip was uneventful for the most part. I returned Tuesday on a flight out of El Paso. Me and Dave said brief but sad goodbyes. I hope to see him again soon, trimmer, healthier, and doing well in school.
Day 1 was 5/14 but I didn't start keeping a log until
Day 2. 5/15. Friday.
1:21 p.m.- Middle West Texas. The vegetation is less varied, consisting of what look like small oaks to my eye, shrubs, and wild grasses and flowers. We're driving in mountainous territory climbing over and racing down, sometimes surrounded by the sides of a mountain that were cut out to make way for the road. The engine whirs excitedly every time it drops a gear to ascend steeply, then my ears pop on the descent. We stop in Kerville and it's my turn to drive after sandwiches.
Later that day- West Texas.The clouds covered the sky. They were wispy at first, like pulled cotton, then as the sky darkened with rain, ominous patches appeared here and there. The clouds here looked like boiling water facing down on us. We passed beneath them and escaped the rain that fell behind us. Large black stone jutted out from the inside of smooth brown hills.
10:00p.m. Driving through El Paso, I look down into the Mexican city of Juarez and beholda sea of halogen street lights. It's like I'm looking down into the night sky filled with orange stars. There are so many that the density is startling. It could be that I've rarely seen a city from above like that or that Juarez is indeed a huge city. The air is noticeably dryer than in Jacksonville. I feel it first on my hands and lips. They both feel tight. I miss Hannah
Day 3. 5/16. Saturday.
9:30 a.m. - Las Cruces. Me, G, and Spencer walk out into the desert behind Spencer's house. We bring Spencer's two dogs, Cory and Sean. The area is spotted with cactus and yucca. There are hills and mountains in the distance and I feel a deep urge to go hiking. I went back out to the desert a day or two later and saw many hares and rabbits. I wonder now if they were more scared of the dogs or if I was just more observant the second time. I dreamt of kissing Hannah last night. Probably because of the dry lips. That afternoon we all went out to La Cueva rock. It is a large rock formation with a cave in it that used to house a Spanish hermit a couple centuries ago. He was a monk healer until Apaches killed him, Spencer said.
Day 4. 5/17. Sunday
We hike up the mountain next to Le Cueva. At the base we met four or five deer, I can't recall. They would perk up their big ears and look at us each time we approached closer down the path. We reach many small peaks along the way to the top of the trail. Spencer rests at one point with his wife and me and Dave hop up some rocks and under branches. I love moments like this. I love hopping over and under things, running through the brush and discovering these little nooks where nature lives in privacy and is most beautiful. I see a dry, mossy pool full of leaves rotten to the veins. with colorful winged insects here and there. I spy several puddles, both with butterfly wings in them.
That night we go out to eat Mexican.
Day 5. 5/18. Sunday
Me and Dave drive up to the Breathe Inn in the Gila Mtns. Here he will work for the summer, before coming back down to Las Cruces for school in the fall. It's about three hours north of the town so the owner is giving him a room in the motel to stay. We enter and meet the chef/manager. His name is Bob. He is affable and a skilled cook. He tells us that there is no cell signal this high up. I check my phone to confirm this and, upon seeing that he's right, breathe a sigh of satisfaction. It is indeed this remoteness that I so love about the wilderness. To cut the tether that ties me to the rest of society takes a great weight off of my shoulders. Bob makes us a veggie burrito with green chili (delicious) and a hamburger. He lives in a room adjacent to the kitchen and tells Dave that if customers ever arrive and he's asleep to just round the corner and bang on the door to wake him up. We unload his belongings into his room which is average for a motel room but big enough for his needs. At this point it hits me that this is where he'll be from now on and not thirty minutes from my house. I tell him that I'll miss him dearly but we both know that this move will afford him many more opportunities than staying in Jacksonville would. We step out and walk the grounds before we get too teary. The animals there are something to observe. Dozens of hummingbirds zip past me with different pitched trills. Other birds are black in the shade and bright blue in the sun. One is what I assume an oriole having never seen one before. But a bird I could not see had the prettiest call of all. I can only liken it to a warbling flute sound. That is the sound that people heard when they thought of a babbling or singing brook.
The rest of the trip was uneventful for the most part. I returned Tuesday on a flight out of El Paso. Me and Dave said brief but sad goodbyes. I hope to see him again soon, trimmer, healthier, and doing well in school.