Around Town

We knew we were at the right place,\when we saw the U.
It could only mean, "You belong here."

There has been some conjecture about where we landed.  We are in the geographically central part of New Mexico, formerly known as the Pinto Bean Capital of the World.  We're using this as a base for adventures for a few months.  It is our alternative to

Petroglyph National Monument

In our family, an adventure hardly qualifies if we don't get lost at least once.  Really, no one can get lost like we get lost.  We got lost on our way to the Monument.  And once we were there, we got lost again. 

Getting lost is usually immediately preceded by someone telling us how

Sandia Peak

Sandia means watermelon in Spanish.  The peak was named by the Spanish for the sunsets that colored it pink each evening. 

We went up to the Peak in the Sandia Tram at 11am and traveled through

The Road to Walmart

I'm sorry, but it is so.  When we first moved here, in the first week of acclimating, I heard about a Walmart and sought it out.  It is the one place that sounded familiar.  My kids were sick, my phone wouldn't work, and I couldn't even go homeopathic and find the food to make a healing tea (that my kids wouldn't drink) at the local grocer.  And so I went to Walmart.

Going to Walmart around here is a commitment; a half-day minimum.  And returning something if you didn't get it right the first time is a painful

Salinas Pueblo Mission - Abo'

This is the kind of signage that I can appreciate.  Very persuasive, too!

Our crew had been laid low with some mysterious flu for a week after New Year's.  We'd spent our time inside sleeping and being sick and sleeping.  Restless to get the gang moving, I made our first foray out to the

Leroy at Dragon Ash Forge

We met Leroy at the local cafe this morning.  The kids and I were looking for things to do and with winds too high for the Sandia Tram, too late  to be on time for the Old Town ABQ tour, we opted for another day closer to home.

We weren't disappointed.

First stop: Alpine Alley Coffee Shop.  There was some rumor going around that I

Hiking the Bend

Our first morning at Big Bend showed a lot of promise.  The trail head for the Window Trail began right just to the side of our campsite.  Front row seats.  Didn't even have to get in the car.

Nothing goes quickly camping, though, at least not for me, and it was 10am before we hit the trail.

We'd done our research on the native wild animals.  Not that I had much too worry about from the furry set.  Our trio reverberated warnings for a traveling mile's radius.  The bears and cats probably

Big Bend National Park

It is impossible to take a bad picture at Big Bend National Park.

Every direction is simply more breathtaking and more awe-inspiring than the last.

We arrived at dusk on a drizzly afternoon in late December.  It was the first rain they'd seen in a long time.  And it was going to be our first time camping in what was to have been nearly two weeks of camping.

Big Bend is huge.  1,252 square miles of huge.  Beyond comprehension.  And what we'd come to know, as we went further and further west, is that nothing is close.  We were getting used to driving across a long ribbon of road with vast expanses of land on either side of the car for sometimes hundreds of miles.  We'd been to gas stations in no-man's land.  Competing gas stations.  No people.  Just a pump, a sign, and a family of cats.  Orange cats at one place, grays at the other.

We stopped in at the visitor center, Panther Junction, when we arrived.  An apt name, kind of cute and definitely a reminder:  We were in big cat country.  After years of having small cats and watching them chase mice, birds, and pom-poms, we learned it all again.  Only this time from the perspective of the mouse.  If only those little guys knew they'd be safer if they didn't run!  The other tips like looking big, making scary noises, throwing rocks; still a bit beyond their reach, I'm afraid.

By the time we got to Chisos Basin, it was closing in on 4pm.  And drizzling.  We found a campsite and pitched our tent.

Then a very nice Ranger who looked strikingly similar to Michael Caine came over.  He welcomed us and asked us if we knew how things worked.  Well, yes, you find a campsite and pitch a tent.  Well, no.

Right, the little pieces of paper in front of the campsites meant something.  Like somebody had it reserved.  In my haste to set up, I'd forgotten.  I couldn't help but think with some weariness that I'd just been on the verge of relief having set up the tent before dark and real rain, was comforting one tearful child who'd stepped up to help and hammered his own finger instead of the stake -- and now we'd have to strike the tent, move, and pitch again with it getting darker and drizzlier and bellies still empty.

Fortunately, our friendly Mr. Caine suggested we just carry the tent.  A solution that was eminently practical and agreeable to my pride since it came from him and not me.

Getting some attention as we relocated to a new campsite.

All is well that ends well.  Before long we'd gotten ourselves situated and made friends with the nice guy next 'door' who let us use his shelter to cook in the spitting rain.

And it wasn't too long after that that we got cozy in our little tent, played a round of Uno, and turned out the light.  I won't say we slept much, but we were happy to be inside with the wind blowing around us outside.  And just happy to be there at all.