New Mexico by Sunset

We be out of Arizona, finally. We have really liked Arizona, however our leaving was somewhat facilitated by a very large Apache who carted me of the golf course. quite literally, the day before we left the San Carlos resort. Since I don’t golf, I don’t know the rules (except for TV) and it never occurred to me that I couldn’t walk on the dirt path that meanders around the golf course. There was a rock marked “walking path” and one day a San Carlos employee in a golf cart stopped and remarked to me how great the path was for walking. But apparently the threesome I saw were bothered by my presence and called the big Indian who would not let me walk out of the area but insisted on escorting me back to the pro shop by cart. It was very humiliating. The golding threesome had yelled something at me, but of course I didn’t hear what they said. They smiled so I smiled and nodded (and kept on walking). I will probably be remembered as being eccentric when I’m really only deaf.

We’ve come to stay in Mesilla, a dusty old village on the edge of Las Cruces, New Mexico. Billy the Kid hung out here and the town was a big stop on the Butterfield Stage Line.

It seems like everything in New Mexico is just a little more sharply defined than in Arizona. The desert is a little drier and flatter, the mountains are higher and craggier, poverty areas are dirtier, and the roads are in worse need of repair. Whoever decided that plastic garbage bags were better than paper should have to pick them off the cacti and sticker trees that line the highways of the windy Southwest.

We drove to El Paso Saturday and took the trolley to Juarez, Mexico. The trolley makes seven stops; we got off at stop four to enjoy the free Marguerita (and a fantastic lunch) and walked to stop seven (to the unbelieving dismay of local taxi drivers). The restaurant we ate in topped every Mexican restaurant experience I’ve ever had. In this land where anything will grow if you give it a cup of water, the propensity for artificial flowering stuff reaches a plastic pitch in the Hispanic culture. This restaurant had artificial plants and flowers everywhere, plus a huge artificial tree full of artificial fruit and flowers and an artificial CHILD in it! The walls were hung with stuff that had other stuff hanging from the stuff, i.e., wrought iron balconies draped in flowering vines, featuring make-believe people hanging over the grille, waving yet more flowers or swords or ribbons. My senses were stunned. We didn’t know what we ordered until we got it and we didn’t know what it cost until we paid for it but by that time we didn’t care. It was wonderful.

Good thing, because the pharmacy at stop seven was a total bust. Some of the meds are actually higher than Walgreen’s.

We shopped a little for a picnic table cloth. Dave felt commercially abused by the Mexican sales pressure (no one offered him his sister) but I kind of liked it. An outrageously flirty older Latino man sold me the table cloth and every time I said no, he dropped the price. (It helps if you kind of sing it … Nnnoooo-Oohhhhhhhh.)

We spent Sunday at the Three Rivers Petroglyph site. It’s one of the best and largest rock art sites in the country. We avoided the rattlesnakes and saw some really great ‘glyphs. Check out the website.

We are headed toward Roswell. Rather than take the Bird we will drive over and check the alien museum which has always drawn us; in fact this is where we are mailing from today. After we return to Lac Cruces we’ll start swinging north and west toward the four corners area.

We send love and warm wishes to you all.

Sam

Please check the Photo Gallery (link on the right) for new pictures.