RV,  There and Back Again

Changing Water Into Wine

March 18, 2023 — Day 31

Last night we pulled into a dark, fenced in parking lot with 2 other rigs and we woke up to an empty parking lot with lots of sky and quiet.

Susan was first to rise, I had a bad night’s sleep, and she yelled, “A coyote!”

So I jumped out of bed and we watched the little guy for a few minutes until he trotted off out of sight. (Before I went to bed I had gone outside to look at the stars, it both seemed overcast and the loneliness really freaked me out so I quickly jumped back into the trailer.)

Now I knew for certain, it was out there, waiting for me, eyes trained on me and fangs dripping with venom. (And yes, don’t bother correcting my fears, all fangs have venom.)

We spent the morning trying to figure out where to go. I really wanted to hike the Echo Canyon Grottos, click the pictures. But it was a 2 hour, minimum addition, to the next destination and the final nail in the coffin was that we couldn’t tow up the scenic road. Sure we could unhitch the trailer and drive the Subaru up there. But we’ve read many stories of unhitched campers in the middle of nowhere not being there when the owner(s) returned no matter how many anti-theft devices they have. So, we looked for fun things to do in Las Cruses, and the hikes were pretty boring. So we expanded our search and found that we could book two nights in Carlsbad. I called and booked. Now we have 3 nights planned, whoo hoo!

Time to hit the road. It was an easy ride, just a few hours. Piece of cake, right? Right?

(Editors note, I think your readers are tired of the ominous music schtick, so drop it, ok?)

Susan took the first shift and instantly we had a photo op, a nice red stop sign against the mountains.

All good photographers know the National Geographic Creed, include a man with a red shirt, so a stop sign had to be good enough. Before I rolled the window down I asked Susan, is there anybody behind us. She sort of rolled her eyes, “There’s nobody here.”

We gassed up in downtown Wilcox, the town of lonely wineries and fangs dripping with venom. It was a real tight squeeze getting between the pump and a car but she did it with style. (Susan, put a note here saying how Paul is the only one who has dented the trailer so far… [susan: edit: okay. done.])

Then onto 10 East, which makes sense since we are going east but had driving this exact section yesterday and a few weeks ago. We’re getting tired of Wilcox.

And she drove. I put my Country playlist one but we were both tired of it. She said, try the radio. There was nothing on FM but Top 10 and Adult Hits, I have no idea what Adult Hits and I don’t want to to know. So we found 1250 AM broadcasting out of Wilcox AZ and listened to that for awhile. The country music was great, the ads and scenery together were so surreal in a David Lynch sense (google it if you’re interested) except that these were the real ads that the people of Wilcox listened to. This wasn’t David Lynch, this was real. BTW, the next dance at the Cattle Rest Saloon is April 20th (or something like that, and yes, we stayed there a few weeks ago. Also, Lauren and Somebody are still operating the family funeral home and crematorium and monuments are on display.)

It made one really think about how our lives are so very different from other people’s lives, and that’s a good thing.

Then things got serious. We knew about the dust storms because we had driven this section a few weeks ago.

But this time we could see the dust storms in the distance. [susan here: I didn’t see anything as I was too busy dealing with wind. Gee, could they be connected?] They were tiny, but I knew they wanted us but we pressed on. Except the winds picked up. And up. When I checked, we were at 26mph gusting to 38 mph. This is NOT fun (no it’s terrifying). We are intrepid explorers, we can handle this ( Hobbits unite.).

So we stopped for lunch.

That is the combo plate from Kranberries Chatterbox in Lourdsburg NM. A definitive 4 of 5, plus there was a poorly marked big rig parking but they also had a huge vacant lot next to them. Everyone parked there even though the “RV parking” was out back behind the establishment. Which was on pavement. Not on gravel and assorted ground up glass bits from cars. Details. Rest and good food was had and we moved on.

Back on the road, I was about half an hour into my shift, fighting the winds. This was nastier than coming west. I wanted to be comfortable so I took an exit and got out of my winter vest. It was warm here by NH standards but the winds never stopped: 55 out but a light jacket and a hat felt necessary. Once back on the highway I encounter The Oversized Three.

Scary? Sure, for a NY minute.

But this was epic. I tucked in behind them, set the cruise control to their speed and spend the next hour staring at a Christmas ornament. We were a rolling road block, 63mph in a 75 zone, which really was 80. The big rigs respect them and slowed a bit. I never really had the suck/expel the big rigs do to us. It was wonderful. I’m so taking 2nd shift tomorrow. Oh, and their draft was great for our fuel economy.

We were back home with the Budweiser Clydesdales! We’d seen these trucks on our way to Phoenix. these guys and gals travel in style. Three big rigs like that, a rig of gear and supplies and a van. We want logistical support like that!

We drove past the Recycled Road Runner.

THIS GIANT AVIAN FIRST STOOD at the Las Cruces Foothills Landfill to draw attention to our consumption habits, the power of recycling, and how much we toss away into landfills. The massive bird was then relocated to the rest area west of Las Cruces on I-10. The sculpture stands a whopping 20 feet tall and is composed of old shoes, cell phones, bike parts, and other recycled materials. 

I had wanted to stop but I had thought it was on a west bound rest area. Oh well, we’ll be back.

Next was some “life maintenance” shopping, then down to our Harvest Host, the Rio Grande Winery. (See, the “changing water into wine” title makes sense.) We drove about 20 miles south of Las Cruses NM and got off and it just seemed wrong to me. I doubled check, oh crap, I had put the Route 28 Micro Brewery into the Garmin GPS. The Idiot Box was me today! We doubled back then Apple Maps failed us. We eventually plugged in GPS coordinates, found the brewery and settled in.

Here’s our view from our camping spot.

And here’s the view from the winery.

Are we done? No, on the way back we met all sorts of new friends, talked about their rigs, big and small. We’ll likely help out John and Sherri when the visit New England in 2024. They showed us their lovely Allegro Bus, they’re fulling timing in it, they sold their house!, and on the way back to our tiny rig I snapped this shot.

Daily: 285

Return Total: 688

Overall Total: 4,414

Return Miles/Day: 287

New Life Birds: 1 – Shay’s Phoebe

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