Colorado Vacation, Part 6: Drive to Amarillo

This is a multi-part trip report, if you haven't already you should start with Part 1. Remember too that you can click on any of the photos to see larger versions of them.

I wished we'd done the drive from Estes Park east in the daylight. Even in the dark, I recognized it as a place from childhood: at about Mandy's age, I saw these mountains for the first time and I still remember my amazement. I remember yelling "look at that one!" at every turn, pointing straight up at the mountains looming above our truck. If I'd known this was the place, we could have come this way on the way in. On the other hand, maybe it's okay that this remains my memory, unshared: her memories of her first mountains here will be about backpacking above the trees, about cooking stew over a tiny camp stove at dusk, about having an alpine lake all to herself at dawn. And that's all right.

We make it past Denver before stopping at a Hampton Inn. Already asleep, Mandy stumbles into bed. She's still wearing dirty hiking clothes, with greasy hair and chappy lips, but she's framed by the clean snow-white covers she's snuggled into, and she's asleep again immediately.

Bryan and I unpack damp tents and rain jackets and socks and drape them over the lamps and television, immediately transforming a very nice hotel room into what looks like a bad secondhand gear store. After a week without showers, the hot water and soft washcloths feel luxurious.

Saturday's drive is an easy one, since we have a head start. I fill out postcards while Bryan drives and Mandy listens to an audiobook; we all enjoy the view as the front range retreats into memory. When I take my turn driving, Bryan, my constant companion and best friend, once again becomes a bored toddler.

We try to stretch out our vacation, stopping at roadside attractions and points of interest. Now we know all about that goofy-looking lump south of Pueblo: Huerfano Butte is a volcanic remnant, named "Orphan" in Spanish, because it's out in a field, all by itself.





We stop in Walsenburg at their wonderful old post office, which smells like paper and glue, as a post office should, to mail our last postcards. We say goodbye to the big mountains here at the Sangre De Cristos.

We also pull off the interstate to learn about the site of the Ludlow Massacre, also known as the "Birthplace of Public Relations."







We arrive in Raton in the early afternoon, and eat at the Sands Motel, another ratty-ass diner. We order from the Mexican menu again and aren't disappointed. Again on the advice of my coworker, whose knowledge of northeastern New Mexican cuisine is somewhat baffling, we buy some tortillas from a little shop along the road and head east.





The drive through New Mexico is pretty. The sky is perfect summer blue, behind the parched-grass ranches with their scattered mesas and hills. The Capulin Volcano almost convinced us to stop, but instead Bryan took photos of it as I drove by. The pastures here are scattered with chunks of black igneous rock, scattered in piles, either belched up out of the ground ages ago or thrown here by the explosions of ancient volcanoes.



The land changes as we cross into Texas: it becomes flatter, with cornfields and irrigation equipment replacing the scruffy pasture. We skip supper, since we're still full from lunch, and arrive in Amarillo in the early evening.

Our hotel here is nice. We've missed the free beer hour but the tap is unattended and Bryan helps himself; we find that cheap beer is much better when it's free and accompanied by popcorn. I go to the pool with Mandy, which is mobbed. "Why don't you ask one of those girls to play?" I ask. "Oh, they already asked me but I told them that I'm not sociable." Mandy does fine with adults, and fine on her own; other kids baffle her.

The story continues...
Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

Colorado Vacation, Part 1: Home to San Luis Lakes

Remember that you can click on any of the photos to see larger versions of them.

We leave Benton at six and arrive late at Lake Eufala State Park. We get a nice, flat tent site far away from anybody else, and we set up camp in the headlights of the car. The bugs are terrible and it's very hot; we'd packed sleeping bags expecting chilly temperatures at elevation, and didn't really think about the night or two we'd spend in the muggy midwestern summer.



We wake up sticky and gross, but since we leave before seven, the campsite's "free". We stop in Okemah to see the first exciting roadside attraction of our trip: a row of three water towers helpfully labeled "HOT", "COLD", and "HOME OF WOODY GUTHRIE." The hand dryers in the Valero gas station bathroom are incredibly powerful: we giggle as the skin on our hands and arms flaps loosely. We're in a place we've never been before, and it feels like our trip has started.



Bryan's been inexplicably excited about seeing the Oklahoma panhandle, so I helpfully drive so that he won't miss a minute of the tremendous excitingness of, um, not much. We play a game in which we have to find things starting with each letter of the alphabet. It takes nearly an hour and includes two minor arguments and such thrilling items as "C is for Cows" and "N is for Nothing."



I don't mind driving on trips, I really don't, and I try to explain this to Bryan. What I mind is that, when he's the passenger, he's bored. He sings. He pokes people. He makes stupid trumpet noises with his mouth. He starts arguments about dumb things just to entertain himself. Today he discovered "licking by proxy," a technique in which he slobbers on his hand and then tries to wipe it on the driver. This is incredibly irritating and, more importantly, seems tremendously unsafe. I try to get him to drive as much as possible; licking by proxy is much more difficult if Bryan is the driver.

On the advice of a coworker, we eat at a ratty-ass motel diner in Raton, New Mexico called The Oasis Restaurant. The review I read had indicated that the food was good but that the carpet in the rooms was threadbare pink shag. (We chose this eatery over the one with the review that said "Bring a gun.") We all order from the Mexican side of the menu: Damn. Yum.



About bedtime, we arrive at San Luis Lakes State Park in Colorado at 7,500 feet. We add layers of fleece and down before setting up tents next to the corrugated-metal ramada. It's the tallest thing here; all the trees and bushes are waist high. We don't know what it looks like by day, but the nearly-full moon rising over the nearby mountains, over the lake, is beautiful.



The story continues...
Part 1 - Part 2

Tucson Honeymoon: Day 9

This is a multi-part trip report... if you haven't already, you should start with Day 1.

Start: Tucson, AZ
End: Monahans Sandhills State Park

Daily Mileage: 565
Total Mileage: 1984

Our hotel room smells awful and looks like an REI explosion, but we're clean and fed and rested and all our gear is dry now. It's worth noting that the Fairfield Marriott has an excellent free breakfast, complete with good coffee, lots of pastry choices, a self serve Belgian waffle maker, and all the peanut butter packets you can sneak into your tote bag.


Our gnome likes his morning coffee, and he likes Belgian waffles too

We head east on I-10, a little sad to begin the end of our trip. We take an almost immediate detour and spend a lot of time finding a good spot to take panographic pictures of Tanque Verde Ridge. We hop a curb at an office building and Bryan uses his new pano tripod head, and I take pictures of him taking pictures, and of cholla in the snow.


Bryan and his tripod, camera, and pano head

In places, the towns are an hour apart, which makes for a miserable McDonald's line on a big travel weekend. We sit in an interminable drive thru; I attempt to use the bathroom but abort the mission when I count 34 other women in line. We listen to "Jesus Don't Want Me For A Sunbeam" (by Nirvana) on the iPod and then give up on McDonald's, getting back on the interstate. We'll get some nuggets somewhere else.

Here is a quote from my travel journal, written while flying down I-10 at 75 miles per hour:

Soaptree yuccas are stupid looking plants, like wandering midgets with bad hair, drunken and lost, lurching through the pasture grass. Some of them wave toilet brushes above their heads. Are they trying to hail cabs, out here in the weird, lonely west? Do they know how ridiculous they look?

We wander through an outlet mall, then eat supper at Chili's in El Paso, a generic choice but we're grumpy and tired. We talk to Mandy and enjoy hearing her cheerful voice, a bright spot in the evening. She is interested in our trip and glad to tell us that she's impressed her friends in Oklahoma by doing 168 sit ups.

For awhile we parallel the Mexican border, and after dark we enjoy the idea that we're looking miles away to the south at the lights from another country. About nine o'clock we pull off the interstate with all the other traffic to drive through a border patrol checkpoint. It is unexpectedly scary but after our truck is dog-sniffed and we tell the officers that we're American citizens, we're on our way again. The truck stop in Pecos is nasty, and we're tired and ready to stop long before bedtime.

We arrive at Monahans Sandhills State Park around midnight. The camping spots are all surrounded by dunes of soft, light sand. It's already below freezing but it's not windy. We quickly realize that the sand won't hold tent stakes, so we pull out the North Face 4-season tent Britt and Debbie sent with us. We've never set it up but it's simple and before long I'm sitting up inside it, a luxury after hunching over in the little backpacking tent. Bryan takes some photos while I pop a flash inside the tent.


The stars at night, are big and bright, deep in the heart of Texas!

It's funny how we get accustomed to chill, and how much more comfortable good gear makes things. I think about the friends who'd never consider tent camping in winter, but I'm cheerfully ensconced in a cozy tent, snug and warm in my sleeping bag, dry socks, down booties and vest.

We all have strange little quirks, and I find one of mine: I can't sleep with a cold nose. I find a handwarmer and open it, put it on my nose, and quickly fall asleep again. The stars are clear and bright on this last night of our trip.

A selection of additional photos appears below, for more photos from the trip checkout our Flickr page.


Bryan taking a set of photos of Tanque Verde Ridge


An old train in front of the mountains


Teddy bear cholla


New Mexican sign: Their road map spells "Flying" and "Missile" wrong, too


Some of the overpasses in New Mexico were really neat.


Yes, that's a truck, in a truck, pulling a truck


Worst name for a car dealership? Ever?


West Texas' answer to the Chik-Fil-A advertising campaign; at least the ranchers can spell.

Day 8 - Day 9 - Day 10

Tucson Honeymoon: Day 4

This is a multi-part trip report... if you haven't already, you should start with Day 1.

Start: Truth or Consequences, NM
End: Colossal Cave Mountain Park (AZ)

Daily Mileage: 288
Total Mileage: 1369

Bryan wakes up feeling much better this morning. The weather channel reports that it's 14 degrees in Benton and -6 in Brookfield. Even New Orleans is chilly, with a wind chill of 25. There are winter storm systems scattered across the country and a lot of people will get a white Christmas this year. We imagine the newspaper headlines:

Nation Shudders Under Winter Cold,
Snowfall Heavy Everywhere,
Civilization Sinks Into Carnage,
and the Signorellis Go Backpacking

We're glad we decided against Grand Canyon; the forecast lows for the rim this week are around zero.

The day begins with a shopping trip in Truth or Consequences. Bryan says this is the most beautiful view from a Walmart parking lot he's ever seen; I just wanted to get a high school t-shirt. I was disappointed to learn that when the town was renamed, the high school wasn't, so the only thing available was a "Hot Springs Tigers" shirt. (I'd been hoping for something like "Truth or Consequences Badgers".) On the way through town we discovered that the elementary school's name had changed, and their mascot is hilarious; I should mail a check to the PTO and ask for a "Truth or Consequences Kittens" shirt.

The drive to Tucson is interesting. We visit Hatch, the Chili Pepper Capital of the World. A dozen little stands are set up along the road selling wreaths and ropes made from dried chilies. We enjoy the break from four-lane travel for awhile. Small mountain ranges dot the landscape, each different from the next. The Sierra de las Uvas to the south are smooth, like giant, soft hills of dirt. The Greg Mountains are a series of short, rocky mesa hills to the north. As we continue west the ranges get bigger and rockier and more imposing.

Near Tucson we stop for a terrible lunch at Jack in the Box, which serves something called a "Teriyaki Bowl" apparently made from leftover rice and cat food. I swear I will never eat there again. We turn north off the interstate and head toward the park and suddenly, saguaros start appearing in the desert near the road, huge human shapes out in distance. We've finally arrived!

The elderly volunteer ladies at the visitors center are less than confidence inspiring when they answer our questions. "Backpacking? You mean camping? Out THERE?" Fortunately, a ranger named Jeff arrives in time to answer our questions and give good advice. We'll camp on adjoining private park land tonight, but we have some good ideas and backcountry permits for the three nights after that.

We spend the night at Colossal Cave Mountain Park, in the La Sevilla group campsite. It's old but sprawling and clean and we have it to ourselves. After a supper of pasta primavera and a very pretty little campfire, we're in bed early. We'll sleep tonight under the friendly mesquite trees, with the saguaros standing sentinel.


Entrance to Saguaro National Park (East side)


Our campfire at La Sevilla group site at Colossal Cave Mountain Park

Day 3 - Day 4 - Day 5

Tucson Honeymoon: Day 3

This is a multi-part trip report... if you haven't already, you should start with Day 1.

Start: Santa Rosa State Park (NM)
End: Truth or Consequences, NM

Daily Mileage: 267
Total Mileage: 1081

Santa Rosa is a state park but feels more like a Corps of Engineers campground. Everything's made of cast concrete, even the picnic tables and heavy sun shelters over them.

The temperature last night dropped to sixteen degrees, according to our wireless thermometer, and the morning dawns sunny and dry and calm. While walking around the campground we stop to admire a "Casita" trailer, its occupants drinking steaming cups of hot coffee and waving cheerfully through its tiny windows. They have the look of veteran travelers, and on the back of their camper there's a sign: "The more one sees, the less one needs."

Somewhere between Santa Rosa and Albuquerque we begin to see a few white-topped mountains to the north, and the land's getting hillier. There are exits marked on the map that aren't towns, only truckstops.

Today becomes a lazy day of errands and replanning in Albuquerque. After using the free WiFi at McAlister's to find that the forecast for Grand Canyon's gone from bad to terrible, we do some research into other options to the south. We spend an hour or so at Barnes & Noble looking at guidebooks for Saguaro, Gila, and the area around Carlsbad. We'll get the weather we planned for, I think, though we'll have to move the trip south a state in order to get it. We spent some time at the REI store in Albuquerque, too, just browsing and getting the few last things on our shopping list.

It's a difficult decision. We've already changed our plans once, and now we have to do it again. Gila looks interesting but has wet trail crossings, which don't seem like a good idea in December. We'd like to see the Guads and Carlsbad but we know Mandy will never forgive us if we go there without her. We decide to head toward Saguaro National Park in Tucson, so after eating a bad supper at a fake Chinese restaurant, we start driving south toward Truth or Consequences. Bryan's had a bad headache all day, so we decide to get a hotel room there so that he can get a hot shower and a good night's sleep in a warm room.

We carry our backpacks into the room, just to be safe. My pack feels good on my back tonight. I'm tired of driving around; I'm ready to go for a walk.


Our garden gnome in the Super 8, Truth or Consequences, NM.

Day 2 - Day 3 - Day 4

Tucson Honeymoon: Day 2

This is a multi-part trip report... if you haven't already, you should start with Day 1.

Start: Lake Fort Smith State Park (AR)
End: Santa Rosa State Park (NM)

Daily Mileage: 642
Total Mileage: 814

It's cold today, and windy, and the shoppers at the Del City Walmart in Oklahoma City are bundled up like little children sent out to play. We see the cheerful retarded greeter coming on duty, happily shuffling along behind a helpful coworker, carrying his lunchbox. It's a little Playmate cooler, and he's carefully written "I Love Star Trek" across the white top with a magic marker. There are some Klingon words, too, but we can't read Klingon.

We pass some wind farms in the afternoon. Some turbines are very close to the road, closer than we've ever seen them, their elegant silvery arms spinning slowly in the blue sky: peace in motion. We see cotton bales the size of truck beds, lined up and waiting after harvest. We pass a field with a pickup parked at the edge, two little boys racing up and down on top of the long rows of last summer's round bales.

The land starts to look different in Texas, little red dirty canyons and miniature mesas in scrubby brush pastures. Sunset on the plains is prettier than in other places, I think. It's simpler; we see more light and fewer shapes.

After much discussion we drive past the Big Texan in Amarillo, that icon of great American gastronomic excess, to eat a smaller supper elsewhere. It's lit up and gaudy and the parking lot is jammed with fat men and pickups packed in for a steak supper. Everything in Texas has a star on it; it's the state shape.

We arrive in Santa Rosa, New Mexico, in the late evening. We're sure we've traveled back in time; this town must have been a major waypoint on old Route 66, and nothing's changed since. No one's painted, or even cleaned the gutters. The hotels and restaurants have names like "The Oasis" and "Bud's Place", with awkwardly angled 1950s-style roofs and pink neon lighting. The RV parks have teepees and concrete dinosaurs. The town is seedy and the road to the state park is badly marked.


Our garden gnome standing watch at Santa Rosa State Park.

Day 1 - Day 2 - Day 3