Friday, January 16, 2015

... and Northward... to Carlsbad, New Mexico! (Day 12)

Del Rio Texas is located right up against Mexico. If you head left, you're in Mexico. So if you don't want to do that, you have to go back north. Over coffee and fifteen types of breakfast meat, I laid my enormous new Road Atlas in front of me, and wondered what the fuck I was doing in Del Rio.

Car-ikey. That's how I say "crikey," which is Australian for "Pete's sake." I make sure to say the "car," because that's what I am driving when our destination is a miss.

Caves, bro! There's caves! For no great reason, we decided to go straight north toward Carlsbad Caverns. I wanted to suspend our relationship with Texas, and it seemed like crossing a fake line in a desert might help turn a page - where the same paragraph would be continued, and the story would go on. Double spaced or single, the story is the same, and the only thing at the border is a colorful sign. I'm not saying you don't point to the sign and read it aloud with an air of excitement - you do - I'm just making more fun of humans and myself, and trying to point out how absolutely silly almost every single thing we do is. The only danger is in taking anything seriously, or acting upon the wishes or momentum set forth by any unfortunately serious humans who came before us. Sometimes it's hard to keep all of this straight. That's why I keep taking these notes.

Just before reaching Sanderson Texas, Kristin relayed the sad news from her phone that all the flappy bats had already headed to Mexico for the winter. Sounds nice. They don't need passports. (This will change by 2025, when we finally install nets on top of a big stupid wall.)

We continued toward Carlsbad anyway, because at least there's still a big cave to tromp around in. 

Sanderson Texas is great. The charm whacks you over the head out of nowhere. We went to about three places there, and everybody kept getting nicer as we went. Now I need to send more Christmas cards. The guy at the gift shop was so friendly that I felt compelled to buy a giant rainbow-colored sock monkey. He countered by throwing in a free poster, which I was friendly enough to accept with a smile, knowing fully that I'd have to toss it as soon as we got out of town.

Sanderson Texas. They have friendly people... and snakes. It is among the prettiest places I've seen, which might be helped along because I'm sorta color blind. But even for people who can see the whole normal human spectrum of colors, this place has gotta look great. Snake hunters love it, too, and they're definitely completely normal and trustable. If you can't trust my judgement, at least you can trust a snakeman's.

The desert kept being sunny. I find it astounding that the temperature is creeping into the 60's at best, but inside the car feels like I'm getting roasted. A spare square of dark window tint material has been mitigating this circumstance nicely. I recommend it.

Evening arrived as we got closer to Carlsbad. I know this because the sun started losing its heat, and I started mumbling about the fucked up nature of simple human truths. That I can't camp wherever I want and everything is expensive becomes increasingly frustrating toward nighttime. If I didn't eventually pass out, I'd end up kicking something pretty hard.

Everything works out. I cussed around about camping and idiots until Kristin found a drive-in movie and I found an absolutely fantastic place to park underneath trillions of stars. Why do I forget that I am fully invincible? Why is it a daily ritual to decry the exact way everything just plain is? I'll have to examine this while I practice: Shutting. The. Fuck. Up.

To be serious, though, we slept in one hell of a beautiful spot. It was a few miles off the highway in the "Cottonwood Day Use Area." Signs claimed "no camping," but that must have been a mistake. There was definitely camping there - no problem - and I think somebody should fix the sign.

1 comment:

teddflinstone123 said...

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