When I entered the National Forest on the western border of NM, the gate was closed and locked. I noticed a red van parked right outside the gate and another bigger rig up on the hilltop. The red van was in a spot that I’d consider perfect. It was too small to even pretend that I wouldn’t be intruding to pull in next to it, so I went and parked down the road. Later in the day, I saw the red van leaving and I immediately moved down and took over that spot, knowing for sure it was not private property, and not being so sure that where I had parked was not on private property. I got set up and settled in. I was just feet from the locked gate that led to the 6 mile road which was my original destination. But where I settled was beautiful. I made lunch and took Cosmo for a walk.
Just as I was feeling the stress from staying at the rest stop the previous night start to dissipate, I saw a car driving down the road I was on. It was the sheriff. He stopped in front of my van and gave three “whoops” with his siren. I got out, hoping he was just checking on everyone. He had pulled behind my van and was already running the plates. This pissed me off. He had not “stopped” me, but was just running a check on me. I felt very violated. I walked up to his car. His window was rolled up and he was talking to someone on his phone. He made some sort of hand gesture at me which was unintelligible. I shrugged and gave the universal signal for “What?” He rolled his window down and said “Back up away from the vehicle and wait for me to get out.” I felt like saying “Go fuck yourself. You “whooped” for ME to come out, and now you don’t have time to talk to me?” I waited and he got out. He was a swaggering asshole. He said “So, what’s up?” I said “You tell me. I got out of my van as a courtesy because I thought you wanted to talk to me.” He said “You can’t be here. There is a severe fire danger.” I said “I thought I couldn’t be beyond that locked gate.” He said “You can’t be anywhere in this area.” I asked if it was BLM land and he said it was, but it was closed due to severe fire danger in the area. It was starting to get dark. He looked at me and said “Do you want to take your hands out of your pockets?” I felt like saying “If I wanted to take my hands out of my pockets, I would have done so by now.” I also wanted to point out to him what a dick he was being, treating me like a criminal, but instead, I just took my hands out of my pockets. Then he started the interrogation. “Are you from around here?” That was none of his business. All he needed to say is “I’m sorry, you’re going to have to leave now. There is a severe fire danger in effect and you can’t camp here.” I would have left. Instead, he ran my plates and now thinks he can interrogate me to see if he can find some offense. I just pointed to my Delaware plates which he was facing. He asked for ID. I know it is illegal for him to ask for ID unless I’ve committed a crime or am suspected of committing a crime. I decided this was probably not a good time to stand up for my rights. I handed him my license and he ran it. When he handed it back, he said “OK, you have to leave now.” I said “You could have said that 5 minutes ago and I would have already been on out of here already. He just looked at me. I can’t remember the last time I felt such contempt for another human being.
I drove down the road to a Flying J Truck stop. Not my first choice of a place to stay, but it was free and close and it was getting dark. I pulled around back of the building. There was a parking area for RV’s separate from where the truckers park. I found a level spot and got ready for bed. The lot was loud. Probably louder than the rest stop from the previous night, but I felt safe. I made some dinner and got ready for bed.
It was another restless night, with beeping every time a big rig backed up. The trucks adjacent to me ran their engines all night long. Many trucks came and went.
I did manage to fall asleep and the next morning I went inside the building, bought a Cinnabon (unhealthy comfort food always makes me feel better when I’ve had a bad night) and saw that they had laundry and showers. I didn’t feel like doing laundry, but I didn’t know when I’d have the chance again, so I gathered up my dirty clothes, and my sleeping bag (which was filthy on Cosmo’s side…he lays in the desert dirt, then comes and lays next to me in bed at night) and went in. The laundry room was empty, and they took credit cards. I put in two loads and then went to pay for a shower. I was customer 116. As I headed toward the shower rooms, I heard the announcement “Shower guest 102, your shower is ready in room 7.” I cringed. I wanted to be on the road already. Fortunately, there were 16 shower rooms, and my turn came quickly. After I finished showering, the washers had stopped, and I put my clothes in the dryer. I went out to check on Cosmo, and within half an hour my clothes were clean, dry and put away, and I was packed up and ready to go.
The drive was long and boring, but once we got to Besti Badlands it was so worth it. The place has some weird official name (Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness), but everyone there just called it Bisti Badlands. A friend had sent me a list of the most beautiful places to camp in each state, and this showed up as the best of New Mexico. It is the most unusual place I’ve ever been. There were few spots to pull off along the way and the two I saw were occupied. One was huge and just had a truck camper in it. I considered asking if he’d mind sharing if I pulled way to the back of the site, but I drove half a mile down the road to the parking lot which matched the GPS coordinates I’d been given. It was semi-crowded, but with cars, not campers. This was the listing for the trail heads. (I learned later that the word “trail” was a stretch). Anyway, I got level and set up to stay for at least the afternoon. Cosmo and I went exploring and could not find a better campsite. Well, actually, we found several, but they were on the other side of a very steep wash. Several SUV’s with 4WD went through; I wasn’t sure I could make it and wasn’t willing to get stuck, so we stayed where we were. It turned out to be just fine, as there were many young hikers coming in for the day. I talked with some of them and they were very friendly. I took a “hike” (That’s what I’m calling taking Cosmo for a walk when we are in BLM land) across the wash. It was like another planet. Such strange rock formations. I took a lot of photos and you can check them out on my FLICKR page at https://www.flickr.com/photos/195383419@N07/with/52119682018/
I was beat. Two nights in truck stop parking lots had just wiped me out, so I made dinner and went to bed. (I also had yet another time change. I’m in NM and they are on Mountain Time, so I lost an hour.) I slept long and hard and when I woke up the next morning, the clock (re-set to Mountain Time) said it was 6:45 and the sun was already above the horizon. After our usual morning routine of coffee, e-mail (I was still getting e-mail on my cell phone, sporadically–very little reception out there in the wilderness, and very unreliable.), checking headlines (I really must stop doing that part. It is so unhealthy for me to know what is going on in a world I no longer live in and read about horrible things that people do to each other and I can do nothing about. I am much happier and healthier not knowing) we got ready to take another, longer “hike.” I got my camera out and selected my wide angle/normal zoom lens. I didn’t want to carry a lot of camera equipment. I got a bottle of water and Cosmo’s collapsible dog bowl and we headed east. We ran into several serious hikers and asked for tips. Each gave different directions of where we could go and what we might see. Most shrugged and said their maps were pretty useless because there were so few landmarks. They suggested keeping the two red mounds in sight so we wouldn’t get lost. (There were two mountains, shaped like giant red breasts, in the middle of flat desert. If we could get to the red mounds, we could see the parking lot and the van from there.) We walked about 4 miles in total. We saw some amazing hoodoos and hiked through a small canyon. We ran into other hikers, all seemed to have no more idea where they were going than we did. We walked together for a bit, but they were planning on making a large loop and I feared that we’d get too tired along the way, and still have to make it all the way back, so we turned around. 4 miles was a good hike. Tomorrow is another day.
After eating lunch, I decided I really needed to clean up the van. I got out a damp shop cloth and started in the front. I dusted the dashboard (it was filthy) and the cup holders and steering wheel. I worked my way back, dusting off cabinet tops, and the kitchen counter and stove. I wiped dust off the top of my table and solar system and every other horizontal surface. Living in the desert is very dirty.
E-mail has been hit and miss in Bisti. Sometimes I had one bar of Verizon cell signal; sometimes zero. Even when I had one bar, sometimes the e-mail will go through, sometimes not. Every once in awhile I’d be sitting in the back of my van or walking and hear the “whoosh” that signifies that an e-mail had been sent. I suppose it was “working on it” and after an hour or so, finally got enough to signal to send it out.
I lost all cell service in the afternoon. Up until then I could sporadically watch something on YouTube or read incoming e-mails. I decided to get out my phone which still contains everything I had on iTunes (I’d copied all my CD’s onto it when I first got my iPhone) and had a Joni Mitchell marathon. It was late in the afternoon, and all the “day trippers” had left. The sky was getting dark, and the wind was picking up. There was one other van at the far side of the parking lot, so I didn’t have to worry about disturbing anyone with my music. Everything clouded over. The sun was setting but it looked more like the moon behind the haze. I wondered if it was smoke from one of the fires burning in NM, but soon realized it was a dust storm. I could see it coming in from the west. Not just some dust blowing. Think “Lawrence of Arabia” dust storms. Soon visibility was zero, and the van rocked. The dust, along with the rocky landscape completed the illusion of being stranded on one of the planets from a Star Wars movie. It took about an hour for it to stop and when it did, the dust settled. Literally. The van that I had worked so hard to clean up was completely covered in dust even though I had closed all the windows. It was like it had been sitting for years, unattended.
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I had planned to get up before sunrise, have some coffee and then head out to take some photos at dawn. I actually DID wake up at about 5:00, the sky just starting to lighten in the east. I thought about it for a minute before deciding to go back to sleep for a bit. I woke up once again to see a beautiful sunrise, and thought once more about grabbing my camera and heading out. I rested my head on my pillow and when I lifted it up again, the sun was fully risen, and it was almost 7:00. I allowed myself to wake up gently and then I got dressed and Cosmo and I headed out for a hike. We explored the other side of the two red mounds and found some pretty amazing hoodoos. About a half hour into our hike, we spotted a couple heading out from the parking lot. I assume they were in the other van that was parked there. They were just tiny dots in the distance. We came back and had breakfast. The parking lot started to fill up once again. I guess this is a major tourist attraction. People mostly come for the day to hike. Some seem to be seasoned back-packers; others seem to be totally unprepared to hike in such rugged terrain. All seem to leave by sundown, and I feel like I once again have this amazing spot mostly to myself.
In the afternoon, I spoke with a couple I’d seen out hiking in the early morning. I asked if they found any of the iconic spots listed on the tourist map. They had and they gave me vague directions how to find “Painter’s Palette” and “The Hatchery.” I followed their directions using the two red mounds as the first set of landmarks, and the corner of Navajo land (which I’d discovered that morning on my walk with Cosmo) as the second point and from there, looked to the east for the two black buttes. Just beyond them I’d find two of the most iconic features of this wilderness. Cosmo and I set out with camera, bottled water, and a collapsible bowl so he could drink. We got to the “Navajo corner” easily, but that was how far we walked in the morning, and by then we were (I was) ready to head back. The black buttes were off in the distance. The desert is tough that way. It’s very difficult for me to judge distance. Was it a half mile away? A mile? Farther? If I knew it was a mile away, would that even mean anything? Perhaps time would be a better gauge. How long to get there? How long from there back to the van? At any rate, a group of Japanese kids came in from our right. They were ahead of us and seemed to know where they were going. Several had cell phones out and seemed to be navigating. I followed them as long as they seemed to be heading where I THOUGHT we should be going. They stopped at “Painter’s Palette” which was a collection of hoodoos that had large, flat tops that resembled a Palette. Not far to the east, we came across the hatchery, named that because they supposedly looked like eggs hatching. To me, they looked more like alien eggs of some sort. Or maybe alien flowers about to bloom.
It was worth the trip out to see them. My step counter told me we’d made a 7.5 mile round trip. That’s a serious hike for me.
I’ve been having “liquid issues” all week. When I got here, I spilled water on my laptop. I cleaned it up as best as I could, but my morning my keyboard was not working. My computer guru, Richard, suggested I let it dry out and it may come back. I did. It didn’t. We’ve spent some time on the phone trying to find workarounds. He will order me a new “bottom half” of my Surface Laptop…that houses the keyboard, mousepad and batteries. I can still detach and use the top part as a large tablet, with touchscreen keyboard, though typing on it is not really very practical. I dug out my old iPad and was able to type this using my notepad. I can then e-mail it to myself where I can copy and paste into MS Word, and edit it a bit using only the mousepad. It’s still a plan in the works until I get a new keyboard.
Then at night, I knocked over yet another glass of water, spilling water all over my sofa. At bedtime (my sofa converts into my bed), I covered it with a towel and hoped it would be dried up by morning. It mostly was. I think one of the problems is that I had too many electronics out, with charging wires running here and there. I snag a wire when I stand up and it catches my solo cup of water and dumps it. In such a small space, it is easy for everything to feel cluttered if just a few things are out of place. I will definitely have to be more aware of having out only things that I am using. The rest needs to be stored away until it becomes necessary.
One morning the carpet by my bed was wet. I don’t remember spilling anything there, but maybe it was from the water spill the night before. It seemed to be a pretty large spot. I checked to see if the sink could be leaking. It wasn’t. I put a towel on it and stepped on it to absorb most of the water and then hung the towel out to dry. In the desert, everything dries up very quickly. I never gave it another thought, until we got to our next stop. I found a cheap campground and checked in. I hooked up water and electricity and within about half an hour the floor was wet again. I wondered if a pipe was leaking below the floor. But why would it be leaking UP? I couldn’t think of any other possibility, so I’ve been keeping the water pump turned off when I’m not using the water. As Rosanne Rosanadana used to say “It’s always something.”
When we left Besti Badlands, we started north. The GPS soon took us on a very rutted gravel road. As we turned onto it, GPS told me to stay on it for 17 miles. I was driving 10 mph, so that wasn’t going to be an option. I pulled over (well, sort of. There were no shoulders–only deep gullies on either side of the gravel) and checked my route. After 17 miles of bad road, I’d turn onto another country road that I was betting was as bad or worse for 23 miles. I just couldn’t do it. I turned around and when I had a full cell signal, I stopped and re-plotted. The only reasonable route was to turn around and go back in the direction of the Flying J Truck stop, 50 miles to the south. I hate to backtrack. It felt like a waste of time. But driving for hours on rutted gravel roads at 10 mph seemed like a much bigger waste of time. I found a pull-off on the side of the road, and I stopped and started to completely re-map my route. All the roads to the north and east of Besti were going to be bad dirt roads. So I decided to go through Albuquerque and up to Santa Fe and finally through Taos before heading into Colorado. It means giving up some stays on BLM land out in the boonies, but it also means not driving for hours upon hours on roads that will knock your fillings loose.
I made it almost to Albuquerque and pulled over. I found a nearby RV park that was cheap. They had great Wi-Fi and steaming hot showers. I plugged in to electric to give my solar a rest and topped off my water tank. It wasn’t a pretty park, but it was quite functional, fairly quiet and had a small dog run so Cosmo and I played ball for a little while. I slept long and hard. When I got up we headed toward Albuquerque. We weren’t as close as I thought. I checked out the map and found Petroglyph National Monument nearby. I went a bit out of my way and thought that would be a nice side trip. Nope. We got to the visitor center. No petroglyphs and no trails from the visitor center. Instead, they provide a map of where the trails are. You must drive (starting at about 5 miles away) to the trail. All say they are a strenuous hike, in full sun, no shade, no place to sit or rest. They suggest good hiking shoes and binoculars. No dogs allowed on trails. Sounds just perfect for me, doesn’t it? So I left, went to Burger King and got myself an Impossible Whopper. It was right next to Cracker Barrel, and this one had a huge parking lot that was nearly empty. We set up camp for the night. Since I arrived early in the afternoon, I had plenty of time to people watch, and this parking lot did not disappoint. One of the main things I noticed was that nearly everyone was driving a late model, sporty sedan, with windows tinted black so you couldn’t see inside. There were a few trucks coming and going (almost every one a black Dodge Ram 1500’s also with darkly tinted windows). During our stay, at least a dozen different cars/people pulled in, parked diagonally across 2 spaces, and got out. They went to the trunk, opened it, and pulled out a small hand towel, like you’d expect to see in a guest powder room. They dusted their cars exterior. They spent about 5 to 10 minutes, then put the towel back in the trunk, got in the car and drove off. When I saw the first woman do this, I wondered what was up. She was built, sort of like a body builder, but not over-the-top. She had large breasts under her black spandex top, black bicycle shorts (very short) and extensive tattoos on her beefy legs. A young man crossing the parking lot with a take-out order saw her and did a double take. He immediately changed course, went over, spoke to her very briefly and then continued on his way. My take was that he was seeing if he stood a chance, and she told him quickly that he did not. Over the next 15 hours, many more stopped, dusted their car’s exterior, and went on their way. I have no idea what this is about. I’ve never seen anyone, ever dust their car in a parking lot.
The other thing that happened often is a vehicle would pull in, park, and then no one got out. Sometimes they’d stay 10 minutes, sometimes a couple hours. One guy in a black, Dodge Ram truck (I say “guy” because as he passed his tinted window was down and I saw a skinny, young man) backed into a space that said, “compact only,” parked for 10 minutes, then sped off. A short while later, he came back, took the same space, and stayed about 10 minutes. This happened 3 or 4 times. My first thought about all the vehicles parking and no one getting out was that they were either drinking, smoking a joint or doing something nefarious. Perhaps they just stopped to check e-mail or phone messages? I have no idea, but it was happening so often that it stood out as being quite strange.
I packed up and we left before 9:00 in the morning. I headed across the street to Planet Fitness and took a quick shower, then headed to a nearby car wash and washed months of desert off the outside of my van. It was nice to see out the windows again. Then we headed east toward Santa Fe.
So far New Mexico is less than impressive. Except for Bisti Badlands, everything else I’ve seen is not very appealing.
Just outside of Snta Fe we found Caja Del Rio BLM land. We drove down a gravel road for quite a while before coming to the gate which was locked and had a sign saying, “Closed due to extreme fire danger.” There was a road off to the right, and we only had to follow it for a short distance to see many RV’s parked in this section. There were roads going every which way, and everyone was quite spread out. I found a level spot and settled in. I worried some that I’d have a repeat performance of some swaggering Sheriff coming to run us off, but as the afternoon unfolded, many more RV’s came and parked in the areas around us. We still might get thrown out, but it’s going to take some doing. Cosmo and I explored a little. The area is extremely dry and dusty (Oh, I can’t WAIT to get to some river, or lake, or even a tiny stream running through tall pines) but it is beautiful in its own way. There are mountains in the distance, and amazing clouds.
The winds howled all night long on our first night here. I looked at a fire map and there are wildfires to the east and south of us. I’m sure the wind is not helping with containment. When I woke up the next morning and took Cosmo out, I could smell the fire. The wind is from the south, so it appears it will move the fire in our direction. But there were no signs of smoke, so it seemed that at least for the time being, we were OK.
The wet spot on the floor had dried out. I have no idea what caused it, but my penchant this week for spilling stuff could have been the culprit. There have been no signs of leaks, so perhaps it was just my clumsiness. Also, I bought a wireless keyboard and mouse combination at Walmart the other day. Plug and play. I plugged them in and my issues with not being able to use my laptop have been resolved for the time being. I realized how dependent (addicted) I am to electronics, and how difficult my life becomes if they are not all in good working order.
The next couple days at Caja BLM were uneventful and peaceful. We took a few brief walks; it was often windy and the wind blew the dust around making it not great for longer hikes. I read, listened to podcasts, and watched mindless YouTube videos. It’s so funny. I’m retired. I live in a van. My biggest chore in life is driving either to get groceries, water, propane or to get to my next spot. These things are my “work.” When I don’t have to do any of those things, it feels like “my day off.” I have to laugh when I think of how many things I used to have to fit into a work day, and then, after work, do all the household maintenance chores. I really don’t know how I managed when now, just having to pick up food seems overwhelming at times. At any rate, I’ve certainly enjoyed my “days off.”
Lessons from the Road: I’ve been fascinated by people while living in the parking lot of Besti Badlands. There are quite a lot of foreigners coming and going. I had a conversation with three Asian women who were asking me for directions in the wilderness area. (I wasn’t much help, between my lack of knowledge, and their limited English). A group of Korean people pulled in one morning. They were loud and very animated. I talked to and walked with a German couple one afternoon. But most fascinating to me are the differences between those of us “living here” and those coming in for he day. Late in the afternoon, three newer model cars pulled in. Out of each, emerged a young man and woman. They all parked next to each other, and all got out and started unloading backpacking gear. They were all chatting and quite energetic. After about half an hour of preparing, they headed toward the wilderness. It looked like they were planning to camp out there for the night. They were gone about 15 minutes when the wind started to pick up. Within a half an hour, they were all back in their vehicles.
The next morning after Cosmo and I finished our walk, a vehicle pulled in next to us. Out came a woman in a very bizarre dress–it was a cross between sarong, flamenco dancer costume, Pocahontas dress. It was brown, and from the front, came down to a point on the left side, just below the knee, but hiked up to her hip on the right side. The left side was shoulder-less, the right swooped up. She had on earrings so big I’m not sure how she held her head up. They were like large metal dream catchers and reached her shoulders. All that was topped off by a giant pair of Jackie O sunglasses. I thought to myself “That’s a strange hiking outfit” but no sooner had I completed that thought, she opened the passenger door of their Toyota Forerunner and wiggled into a pair of Daisy Duke shorts. Then she pulled the dress off and pulled on a t-shirt. I thought it odd to require different outfits for travel and hiking. Who would need a costume change from driving to hiking? And I immediately thought “COLORADO!!!” When they left into the wilderness after quite an involved ritual of applying sunscreen, I went and checked their plates. Sure enough. Colorado!
While Cosmo and I are on our walks, I often notice how much trash people leave. All the camping spots we stay at have signs asking to please “Pack it in, pack it out.” BLM land for the most part has no water, no electricity, no dump for grey or black tanks and no trash service. It is up to those of us staying to take care of it. I often see people walking around with trash bags, collecting litter that their fellow campers have thrown on the ground. The goal is to always leave things better than you found them. It is inevitable that if we don’t take care of the BLM land, soon it will be closed to us. Some of it has been closed already . While on our walk yesterday, I came across this:
All I could think of is “This is why we can’t have nice things.”