"Amarillo by Sunset"

Artist unknown

I serenaded BC for hours through the long, flat drive into Texas.  I left Santa Fe yesterday morning, after spending a few days with friends.  If I haven’t already mentioned, back in Southern Oregon, I overpacked.  No surprise there.  In San Jose I shipped 20 pounds of winter clothing on ahead to New Jersey, where I’m certain to need them this June and July.

But ironically, shall I tell you the number of wee-hours when I froze my tuckus off; kicking myself for leaving BC’s sleeping-bag bed back in Oregon?  Still, I shipped another 15 pounds of clothing and miscellaneous junk from Santa Fe.  I can finally move about in the back of the truck like a semi-human, and I promise I’ll post photos, now that I’m not so embarrassed.  My little gypsy caravan.

Painted Desert/Petrified Forest

I’m so glad I fixed up the truck; I wouldn’t have driven through the winds of Arizona and New Mexico with even a mini U-haul.  Signs along the highways warn of gusty winds, and at one point in their collective deserts there was a sign which, when lit, closed the highway entirely due to severe dust storms.  Ptewy!

Warning:  rattlesnakes in area had me tip-toeing over rocks with BC, hollering, “People, people!”  I know snakes can’t hear, but it comforts me and perhaps I scare other things.

Painted Desert

Arizona is truly beautiful, but I spotted a small group of RV’s spread out over a dusty parcel of desert land, without any amenities.  This was not a designated campground, but a mish-mash of people (like me), with older RV’s who need a place to park.  I can’t imagine anyone would begrudge them squatter’s rights in the middle of nowhere, but they’ll probably be run out eventually. 

In New Mexico I passed sign after sign enticing tourists to stop for Kachinas, turquoise jewelry and moccasins, promising 50-60% discounts right off the bat.  On the flip side were Casino signs advertising aging, Classic Rock groups.  Which means their audiences are my age or slightly older.  Which means we’ve finally become our Parents.

Artist unknown

Santa Fe, as you would expect, is full of nothing but adobes, interspersed with an equal number of art galleries.  Even Walgreens blends in.  I drooled over highly decorated boots, but not particularly sorry I no longer have $1,000-plus to spend on such frills.  Unless I intend to be planted in them, in which case I’ll create my own.  The Old Town square is anchored by a beautiful church, surrounded by spendy shops and restaurants with the best Mexican cuisine I’ve eaten in many moons.

But back to the weird weather, I literally had to beat-feet to get far enough into Texas to avoid what’s heading for Santa Fe, et al:  20’s and 30’s tonight.  I do treat myself to Motel 6’s on occasion, which are reasonable, often include fridges & microwaves, and allow pets.   And warm!