Fort Stockton, Texas



Four hours southeast of Roswell, New Mexico, we stopped for the night before going on to Kerrville, Texas.  The oil wells started about two hours south of Roswell, and the ground kicks up a fine white powder that coats the workboots and jeans of the guys working the rigs. 

I immediately noticed that most motorcycle riders are wearing helmets in this state, but some aren't, so not sure if there is no helmet law (like New Mexico and Arizona) or if they are just doing their own thing.  I also noticed a lot of cowboy hats and boots, and men who held the door open for the fairer sex, even if they were more than 10 feet away from entering the building.  And "y'all" is officially used here in every type of verbal exchange possible, with "y'all come back now," being the standard goodbye phrase used in eating establishments.

The area itself is at the tail end of the Pecos Plains, which I found to be getting really redundant after the first hour of travel.  It does have a lot of plateaus all around, and the lady at the RV park told me it's the only place around there that does.  The RV park also had that nice white dusty ground, which makes it impossible not to track white footprints on any smooth surface.  It was a good thing we were only staying overnight because it wasn't really a very attractive place to us.

Roswell, New Mexico

Roswell is located about 200 miles from any major center and is a bit off the beaten track.  We came up from Las Cruces through Lincoln County, stomping grounds of Billy the Kid in the late 1880's.  Here's a good website on the battles and gunfights of the Lincoln Wars:  http://www.angelfire.com/mi2/billythekid/gunfights.html.

We drove through the Mescalero Apache reservation in the high country, past Ruidoso, reaching a summit of 7,600 feet before dropping down into the beautiful Pecos Valley, past San Patricio and into Roswell, located on the northeastern fringe of the Chihuahua Desert. 

The Roswell Artesian Basin is responsible for making this area the dairy capital of the state, and the park we're staying in is surrounded by hayfields, dairy farms, and pecan orchards. 

Above:  McDonald's alien marketing strategy

Above:  Funeral Home in Roswell where alien bodies were allegedly taken after crash

Anyhoo, check out the PhotoRama page for a possible alien encounter ...

Dark Rider

 Above:  A view of the wash looking south

On our last morning in Benson we took the two big dogs for their usual run up through the wash in the desert to the north of where we were staying.  This is an area that is dry right now but becomes a raging river during flash floods.  It twists and turns and has banks anywhere from 6 to 15 or so feet high, and varies from about 40 to 75 feet or so in width.  It is full of stunted trees and underbrush.

 Above:  A view of the wash looking north

On our way back down we were approaching a corner.  Our 165-pound Ovcharka dog was leading the way when a shadow appeared on the ground just ahead of him, indicating someone was coming around the bend.  He stopped in his tracks and was intently watching to see what was coming.  We yelled to the dog to stay so we could leash him, and grabbed the German Shepherd and put on her leash. 

When I looked up, there was a tall handsome man on a tall Mammoth Jack mule (these things are almost as big as a draft horse).  The man was wearing a blood-red shirt, a black cowboy hat, black jeans, black boots, and black gloves.  He was holding a large black pit bull on a chain, who was barking and jumping around beside him.  The mule was dancing around, the dogs were all barking, and the rider was trying to keep his dog untangled from the mule.

As he maneuvered past us in the wash, he commented with a laugh, "I think everyone here is new to this."

When he got about 20 feet past us, he turned back and yelled something that I couldn't hear because my faithful companion began barking at him again.  He then repeated it, saying, "Y'all didn't see a black knife up this way, did you?"  To which I replied, "No, sir, we didn't see any knives."

Then I remembered the iPhone in my hand and yelled, "Can I take a picture of you?"

He laughed and said sure, and turned his mule to the side and I snapped the photo.  When I looked at it later, it gave me a start because his face was all distorted, like some kind of a horrible mask.  Yet I was talking to him before I snapped the photo, and he had put nothing on his face.  Then the words from the song Red Right Hand came into my mind and I was totally freaked out.  Take a look at the photos below, but before you do, click on the play button on the video below to hear Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds performing Red Right Hand while viewing photos to get the full effect:

Click above play button to start the video and listen to the song while checking out photos below:

Above:  "On a gathering storm comes
a tall handsome man
In a dusty black coat with

a red right hand ..."

Above:  Enlarged to see face
That's either a gun or a knife on his belt (Arizona has open-carry firearms laws)

Holy Javelina!

Javelina, pronounced "havalina"

Exercising the dogs up in the wash across from the RV park today.  The wash is a dried up large creek bed that becomes a raging river when the rains hit.  The banks are over 6 feet high in some places and are pretty much straight up.  That's where a small pig suddenly ran across the wash in front of us and clambered expertly up the bank and into the brush. As we passed by the spot, we could see it standing in the brush looking at us rather surprisedly.  It had huge bristles all over it, especially on the top of its head.  It was a little smaller than my potbelly pigs were.  They are remotely related to the domestic pig of today, and have migrated from South America through Mexico and are now living wild in Arizona.

 Above:  in the wash

So now the dogs have three things they like to watch out for when we go out for walks:  desert cottontail rabbits, Gamble's quail, and now the javelinas! 

 We're probably going to head out Wednesday morning, over to Las Cruces, New Mexico, then up to Roswell.  Some people from Albuquerque parked their bus beside us last night, very friendly folk, who gave us lots of info on stuff around their state that would be nice to see, places to probably stay away from right now due to extreme weather conditions, and the name of a casino that has the best buffet in the state.

Tucson, Arizona

We drove from Benson to Tucson for the day on Thursday, to get the U-joints replaced on the truck.  We spent the day poking around the area where Arizona's Number 1 Dodge dealership is located, apparently on the not-so-classy side of town.

We stopped in for breakfast at Denny's, which, like everything else down here, tasted much better and was much cheaper than back home.  Our waitress was a Louisiana native, and was bubbling over with excitement because she had taken her kids to see President Obama when he visited the Tucson shooting site the day before.  This was at the Safeway where the Congresswoman to the area we are currently staying in was shot in the head, and about 17 others were also shot, several of them dying.  It's about 30 minutes from where we are staying in Benson.

We dropped into a local pawn shop that had a sign on the door, "No loaded firearms allowed," and had a nice display case full of AK-47s, different types of handguns from Glocks to Ruegers, interspersed with a smattering of used jewelry and knives (see my Random Observations page for more tidbits on gun control, or lack of it, in this state).

The smog is very noticeable as you move towards Tucson.  In fact, when we were coming east from Buckeye, there was a thick layer of smog about 50 miles west of Phoenix, which continued on down into Tucson and cleared up just before Benson, so about 3 hours of smog-filled driving.

I bought some oranges off a vendador stationed in front of Mercad Y Carniceria El Herradero.  He was an older gentleman,  and we spoke in Spanish.  It was nice to see that I can still hold a conversation and haven't forgotten how to count in that language!  As we walked up the sidewalk, a man trundled by with a small hand-cart in tow with some kind of pail on it.  I didn't realize until we'd passed him that he had uttered "tamales" in a low voice as he went by.  This reminded me of the first time I tasted a tamale, when I purchased one from an old woman with a similar pail on a street corner in Puerto Vallarta many years ago.  I almost turned back to buy one from him, then remembered I had spent all my cash on some vanilla, and churros and pan dulce at Guerrero's (pastries, of course!)

Right  near the Dodge dealership was yet another U.S. Airforce base, so we were entertained with big Hercules aircraft landing throughout the day, as well as some F-35 fighter jets in an afternoon soirtee.  The military presence down here is extremely noticeable, especially in the air.

Bisbee, Arizona

Another old mining town in southern Arizona, but the buildings were made of brick instead of boards, and so a large area of the town is the original buildings, most in really good shape.  The historic part of Bisbee is quite large and has lots of different interesting old buildings, not to mention the people.  There seems to be a really weird type of dress code in Bisbee, i.e., anything goes, from circa-1800s outfits to modern-day bikers. There are galleries selling fantastically expensive Navajo rugs and native art to European tourists, street vendors tucked away in alleys selling the usual cheap Mexican silver jewelry and trinkets, and middle-of-the road shops selling a lot of "native" jewelry, baskets, bags, etc., a lot of which sport "Made in India" (or Pakistan) labels in inconspicuous locations.

Above:  Surreal skateboarder coasts down the main drag of Bisbee

Tombstone, Arizona

We went to Tombstone yesterday, which is about 40 miles north of the Mexican border in Cochise County.  There was a US Border Patrol checkpoint at a crossroads on Highway 80, about 5 miles north of Tombstone.  It is a kiosk in the middle of the road, with pylons on each side of the highway narrowing the road down to the point where you stop before you pass by the kiosk.  On the side of the road there is a parking lot on top of a coulee in the dirt, and it had about two dozen SUVs, pickups, and other vehicles parked there, all white with the green border patrol logo and lettering on them.  Right beside where we stopped at the kiosk, there was an Hispanic guard standing by his SUV, fully armed, and I could catch a glimpse of the German Shepherd in the back seat.  The vehicle had a plastic grill for a side window in the back seat for the dog, and it had a big convection fan mounted in it, so the dog could have some air.  It’s only about 14 degrees here right now in the daytime, so I guess it saves on air conditioning. 

The young flak-jacketed guard at the kiosk asked if we were Canadian citizens, then asked if we had our passports with us.  Upon the affirmative answer, he asked if he could see them.  I got them out, but as soon as he saw them in my hand, he said that was fine, and he was glad to see we were carrying them with us.  He then waved us through.  I found out later that this small checkpoint has 500 personnel stationed there.  

I talked to some people from Chilliwack who pulled in beside us tonight, and they actually drove their big bus down past Tombstone today and into Agua Prieta, Mexico.  They advised me not to go because all the stores are closed and the streets deserted because no one is going across due to the narcotraficante violence that is affecting the entire US-Mexico border areas.  I feel for the average Mexican citizen, as this is hurting them financially and emotionally, and is going to have even worse impact as time goes on.

 

Tombstone itself is a city where people live and work, so there are modern-day vehicles parked and driving all around Tombstone, except for a few blocks in the main historic part.  All the buildings have been rebuilt and restored, most with inappropriate alterations and not to original specifications of the period.  The old town actually burnt down at least twice in the late 1800s, so it’s understandable but a little disappointing as it felt a little Hollywood.  

  Above:  Huge original painting of Fatima, one of the dancers who performed here at the Bird Cage.  There are at least two bullet holes and a knife slash in it, courtesy of patrons of that era.

There are only a couple of original buildings left there, one of which is the Bird Cage Theatre.  You can go into the front area, and then pay to see the rest, which we did.  We thought it was the best of the buildings in Tombstone, with many original artifacts there, including the original horse-drawn hearse that took the famous OK Corral victims to Boot Hill.  The building is in its original state and has held up very well over the years.

We also paid to watch a reenactment of the shootout at the OK Corral, which was in the form of an outdoor play and gave a background of the events leading up to the shootings, culminating in the actual shooting.  Some of the actors bore striking resemblances to the actual people, as we later saw from old photos in the Bird Cage. 

 

Above:  Bullet holes, large calibre, in the stage at the Bird Cage

There are also signs at the doorways of most buildings requiring that firearms be checked at the front before going in.  This may sound like part of the historic feature of Tombstone, but is actually for real-day patrons as it is legal to carry firearms in this state.  Apparently there are no permits required to buy anything other than a handgun, and there are no registrations required for anything except concealed weapons.  Carrying a firearm in a holster that is partly visible is not considered concealed, nor is it concealed to have them in luggage, vehicle, or house.

Above:  Some of the private boxes to the left of the stage at The Bird Cage Theatre

This state was pretty wild in the late 1800s, to the point where the federal government considered sending in the army and enacting martial law to settle it down.  In1882, the New York Times reported that "the Bird Cage Theatre is the wildest, wickedest night spot between Basin Street and the Barbary Coast."  Tombstone then had a law that people entering town had to turn in their firearms and pick them up when they left, which was part of the reason for the confrontation at the OK Corral.

Benson, Arizona

 Hey, weird, it looks just like the photos of Arizona ...

Three and a half hours of travel on Highway 10 today got us into Benson, Arizona.  We're staying here for a week while we explore the area.  There's a lot of old mining towns and caverns to see, not to mention the one and only Tombstone, Arizona, which is about half an hour away.

There are a lot of cotton fields in the Buckeye area, which surprised me because I thought that crop was grown in the Deep South.  The cotton fields continued almost all the way to Benson today, which leads me to believe it might be the number one crop in southern Arizona.  It looks like most of the crop is harvested, but there are a few places where the machines are still plucking the cotton balls off the dried-up bushes, and there are huge bales of cotton lining the dirt farm roads.

Buckeye, Arizona

Not knowing a lot about Arizona, the farming community in this bedroom suburb of Phoenix, Arizona, seems out of place when compared to the tourist brochures of desert and distant hills.  Even more surprising are the acres of cotton fields, which I hadn’t given much thought to, but always had a vague feeling they were only located in the deep south of the U.S.A.  Huge bales of cotton about 10 or 15 feet high sit by some of the crossroads, tarped on the tops just like hay.  There are a few huge dairy farms, and a HUGE Walmart warehouse is also located here (we measured it off with the truck odometer as we drove down the road parallel to it, and it has to be close to a mile in length!)  So keyword for Buckeye, reading back on all that, must be “huge”.

It was supposed to get down to freezing last night (but only got to 36 in reality), and we noticed landscaping material draped over a row of ornamental plants near the pool of the RV park we are at.  Right now it’s sunny and about 10 degrees C., with a smattering of raindrops a few minutes ago.  I’m not sure why, but the air feels a lot lighter and happier here than in Palm Springs.  The eye can see for miles and miles, as it is very flat land with a border of very distant rocky mountains and hills all around.  The park is landscaped with terra cotta gravel and palm trees and is immaculately clean.  There are about 300 sites here, and it looks to be about 1/3 full right now.  We have a small palm tree right beside the window where we sit at the table, its top about level with the top of the window, so we get to look out at that.  I quite like palm trees. 

One thing we noticed immediately upon crossing over the state line into Arizona is that we are no longer the only toy hauler on the road and in the parks.  There are a lot of them here, and a lot of lifted pickups hauling ATV trailers, usually with two to three ATVs on them, in assortments of four-wheelers, dune buggies, and dirt bikes.

Sentinel of the Desert

The hummingbirds seem to be more active in the last couple of cold mornings.  Once the sun hits the flowers, there are lots of them zooming around the park.  Across the road there is a patch of desert, where we take the dogs to run, and there has been a solitary shimmering, emerald-green hummer over there for a few mornings now.  He sits on the top branch of a big sage brush and chatters away like a budgie.  Today I got quite close to him and got a few photos.  When I got to about 10 feet of him, he buzzed over to see what I was doing, then took off.  We are pulling out tomorrow for Arizona, and I shall miss my little sentinel of the desert...

Happy New Year

 Above:  Walking in the desert with Nachelnik ambling ahead, always the guardian

This RV park was deserted at about 5:00 p.m., cars with dressed-up people exiting in large numbers to New Year's celebrations, with most of the remaining in attendance at the club house for the dinner/dance (this year's theme:  Senior Prom).  There was a frost warning for last night, but after doing laundry and spending some time in the outdoor pool and spa, the temperature read a balmy (choke) 40 degrees at 10:00 p.m.  The cold may have also played a part in why there was not a soul to be seen anywhere after dark (see prior Oz Syndrome post).

 Above:  One of the pool and spa areas at the park

We went outside at midnight to see if there might be some fireworks.  There were a lot of firecrackers and cherry bombs going off in the distance, a few people hollering and whistling at the far end of the park, and then 3 shots rang out from a large-caliber gun of some description, about 500 yards away from us, then some automatic weapon fire a ways away. Someone fired up the song "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang about two streets over, then you could hear the dull roar of car horns and crowds screaming in the town a few miles from here, and then that was the end of that, after about 10 minutes total.

About an hour later we heard a crash on the street outside, and then the sound of something being dragged along that had the sound of metal with sparks flying.  We looked outside and discovered it was one of the park residents trying to navigate his golf cart home and failing miserably.  I don't know what he hit, but he got out to look at the front of his cart, and a crowd of people, glasses in hand (in true Julian fashion -- hey, we ARE in a trailer park, even if it's more posh that Sunnyvale) were all turning away and wandering off, excitement over for the time being.

Happy New Year, everyone!

 Above:  Fuera patiently waiting to hit the road to Arizona (Aaron checking tire pressures)

Above:  The 99-dollar stainless-steel BBQ from Costco:  State of the art, 2 burners, about 2 feet wide but nicely portable with folding legs :)