From Texas, and LouisianaMississippiAlabamaTennesseeKentuckyWestVirginiaMaryland, to Virginia! - Pt 2 AlabamaTennesseeKentuckyWestVirginia

Last time we talked about the beginning of the trip - Louisiana and Mississippi, leaving off with Moss Point, MS on the Gulf Coast...

We crossed through Mobile (which has the COOLEST tunnel under their port.... or so I thought until I drove under Baltimore's bay in the COOLEST tunnel ever!) and headed up to Montgomery, or Birmingham (i don't remember) to crash for the night at a campground. This was back in the day when I needed showers and flush toilets and was willing to pay for them, like a CHUMP, at a private campground. Nowadays I am willing to forgo those niceties for a FREE campground :-).

The next day we headed up to Lynchburg, TN to visit the Jack Daniels Distillery. Neither R or myself is in to whiskey but why not visit anyway. The distillery is set in the hills and is a gorgeous ride... much like the Maker's Mark Distillery visit of my youth. It was a great way to be introduced to the Appalachians. After that stop, we continued north to visit Mammoth Cave National Park. On a previous road trip, R and I went to Carlsbad Caverns National Park, and we liked it so much, we decided to check out another one. This cave was very very different from Carlsbad. No huge rooms like "the Big Room", but with over 300 miles of underground riverway, there was plenty to explore.

We chose to hit a ranger-guided tour that involved a bus ride to a more remote part of the cave. There, in a wooded dirt parking lot, was a pad-locked metal doorway into the side of a small hill. Only slightly creepy. The guide warned us that there were over 100 metal steps to go down right at the beginning to get into the main chambers, and they were slippery. Slightly more creepy. He failed to mention the THOUSANDS of SPIDERS that were living at the entrance on the roof overhead, waiting for the door to open and admit the tiniest amount of light. Once they see the light, they begin to bounce. OMG way more creepy!
(If you need a refresher on my history with spiders.... here, and here.) And you can't run, NO, not with the slippery steps of death or the line of 30 people who all want to run with you. NO! I spent the whole walk down the steps alternatively pushing the old man in front of me and squealing "get them off of me!". In actuality, there were no spiders on me. It's a mind-fuck.

Once we got down to the bottom, everyone chilled out. The place was cool and damp, dark and long. Its not overly decorated like Carlsbad but it has some fantastic history. The locals used it as a tuberculosis ward back during the Civil War and up to the turn of the century. Awesome! Survive the spiders to die by TB...

We did survive, and drove on up to Louisville and headed west to West Virginia. In all honesty, I don't remember West Virginia on that trip.... sorry West Virginians. Here - interesting fact to make up for lack of being memorable - If you ironed West Virginia flat, it'd be larger than Texas.

Ok, moving on to Maryland and Baltimore next time!

*If you took nothing else away from this piece, remember to always ask if there will be spiders on your cave tours....

Lost Journal Entry...

When I was posted outside the cave at Carlsbad Caverns, I got to witness some truly glorious spring days. You know those days when the sky is that perfect shade of deep blue, a few fluffy white clouds sail past to remind you of unseen winds, the landscape is a desert postcard of deep greens and accent greys, birds chirp and flirt and build homes for future chicks, and ravens play overhead to taunt you and your earthboundedness... yeah, those were the days I was inspired to write. I'd write on a tiny notepad I kept in my sexy NPS-provided fanny pack. I would write thoughts, aspirations, travel plans, and memories.

I recently found that notepad, and on it I had written this.... 

I discovered who I was the summer after college. I went to Virginia looking for something but not sure what. What I found was myself. The self that was hiding deep inside; the self that cried out for every trail that went into the woods along the highways we traveled during family vacations and led me down old farm roads during one of my drives. I realized that I was happiest when I was simply putting one foot in front of the other in the wilderness. I spent lazy summer afternoons lying on a mountain peak with a book in my hand, some good company and a beautiful view. I hiked through the ethereal Blue Ridge fog, the life-stealing heat of Utah's desert and sand dunes in the Rockies. I've seen alligators, badgers, mountain lions and bears along winding wooded paths.

My life has taken me to many new places. I have met some wonderful and interesting people along the way. There was the practical joking law enforcement officer who engaged me in a battle of the wits, the guys who lived next door who rappelled from the roof of the house and the drunk, with whom I shared a wall, who had a heart of gold and a never ending supply of weed and beer. I have met mortal enemies and kindred souls, sometimes living with one or the other. The most interesting souls I've run across have been the thru-hikers along the Appalachian Trail. So many different walks of life and reasons for hiking the AT yet they all came together for one common goal; to finish the 1,200 mile-long historic trail.

I grew up a nervous child always pestering my parents with "what if" questions. Who would have guessed that I would grow to experience all that I have. I've been chased off a mountain peak by bolts of lightning that rained down around me and spent hours deep within the red-rock canyons of Utah never quite believing that I could get out. I have witnessed first light from the top of a 2,000 foot cliff and been woken by cowboys moving herds of cattle around my tent. I have hiked through the 120-degree heat of a Utah summer, camped in the howling winter winds of the Guadalupe Mountains and bagged a peak in Virginia during a blizzard. But none of that prepared me for the tiny holes and crevasses that awaited me my first season as a park ranger at Carlsbad Caverns. There I learned the true meaning of the words "pitch black" and understood just where the term "pinch" got its name.

I have lost toenails, gotten sun poisoning and developed a stress fracture for my love of hiking. I sold my apartment and all of its furnishings to follow my dreams and I've never been happier!

Happy discovery!

This was one of those perfect spring days

El Paso's Tin Mines

This last weekend, M and I hiked to a series of tin mines in the Franklin Mountains. I discovered the trail from a great local blog, elpasonaturally. The first thing we noticed about this hike was although it was in the middle of the city, there weren't any sounds of the city, no sign of the suburbs; not even a plane flying overhead.

a rare El Paso scene... no signs of the city!

The first 2 miles of the hike were on old mining roads that have been converted to hike/bike trails. This made for great easy walking over hard-packed gravel. We saw lots of small yellow flowers and a few early-crop poppies.















The old mining roads were built around 1901 as a way to cross through the Franklin Mountains, where the present-day Transmountain Road/Loop 365 runs. Several roads also ran from the railroad and highway heading up towards Alamagordo to springs located along the eastern edge of the Franklins. The geology of the Franklins is mostly limestone with some granite intrusions. The tin was discovered in these granite intrusions. Tin is very rare in North America. However, it wasn't profitable enough so the mines were shut down in 1915.

The small dark dots on the left are mine grates... Up above you can
see the lighter bands of limestone.

Grates covering mine trenches and shafts.

M striking his usual photography pose

After a few wrong turns, we made it to the entrance to the main mine. Luckily, I had cell service the whole hike and was able to follow the GPS map from AllTrails. It saved our asses several times. After some really loose rock-scrambling, we made it up to the entrance and were delighted to discover you could walk into the mines! I've never been inside an un-manned mine before.

We had brought headlamps because we thought we'd be able to look into the mine. Little did we know we would be able to walk pretty far back into the shafts.

My first thought was Mountain Lions and drug-runners would enjoy living in these unlocked abandoned tunnels. Should we come across any, we would resort to defending ourselves by whipping them with our cameras and water bottles. (Not a fantastic plan....)

I was enjoying the features of my new camera so we shot a quick video of M playing in the mine... Its on my YouTube page.


Also, you can check out this YouTube video... The guy recorded a half hour of exploring the tunnels. It'll make you queasy in that Blair Witch sorta way.

The vertical pit that made it impossible for me to
continue into the tunnel. What if it contained a
mountain lion, or big scary cave monster?!

M or scary cave monster?

No scary cave monster... just M :-)

After leaving the upper entrance, we found a route down to a lower entrance. This tunnel was much smaller than the upper one. You had to stoop over to walk through it, or crawl on your knees.









M went in and explored this tunnel. It was lit in the back by the trench that we walked along earlier in the upper entrance. It branched off in several directions, some tunnels going quite far back. From the looks of the 30 minute video on YouTube, we didn't miss too much by not exploring it fully.

M heads in!

After leaving the mines, and getting a bit off trail in a washed out gully, we retraced our path back down the mountain to the neighborhood where we had parked. It was a very cool hike, a great place to take kids, and I'm glad we did it (in spite of my pulled thigh muscle that cramped up for most of the trip. I pulled it hiking a few weeks ago).

The muscle-pulling hike we did last time. See the tiny trail down below....
The car is parked down there.

Taking My Life in My Own Hands (on the Camino Del Diablo)

Camino del Diablo translates to Road of the Devil.

Doesn't sound too appealing... unless you like to 4-wheel drive or you live along the US-Mexico border. Well, I was living in Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument in a house only 4 miles north of the border and this road , or camino, was legendary.

This road was first made famous by Spanish soldier Melchior Diaz and Padre Kino in the 1500s. These Spaniards followed the road made by prehistoric Hohokam people and historic Tohono O'odham people. It was considered the only way to cross the driest part of the southwestern desert due to large tinajas (earthen bowls filled with water) that could be found in the mountains. During the gold rush of the 1840s, many men died along this route trying to get to California. This ancient road is literally lined with the graves of adventurers passed.

Now do you understand why this road got its name? Let me tell you about the two times I crossed it and hiked into its wild mountains.

When I first decided to drive the road, I knew I needed a companion... preferably one with a gun and the ability to use it. Seriously the only time I've EVER felt this way while traveling. My friend Leo was my first choice. He's a lot of fun to hang with, great experience in the desert, a federal law enforcement officer (federal LEO, hence the name I've given him), and has a Spot personal locator beacon.


Such a good book!

Leo and I began looking into the road. We found out that we needed a free permit from the local bombing range (you know, just in case they decided to bomb the day we were driving by. no worries here!). We also started reading random books written about the area to learn about the regional history. I chose "The Devil's Highway", an aptly named book about immigrants walking across the Arizona desert and the tragedy that ensued. Basically this book taught me all I never wanted to know about dying of thirst in the desert.

Needless to say, we packed some extra water, snacks, left notes for everyone telling them where we were and when we hoped to return, gassed up, got our "don't bomb us" permit, and took off!

The road starts out just south of town as a very nice dirt road. I've seen octogenarians in sedans driving it while bird-watching. It gets a little bumpy as it travels into Organ Pipe and passes Bates Well, an old ranching homestead.

not a lot left of the ranch

Due to the water resources that undoubtedly brought the Bates Well ranchers to the area, it is also a great place for illegals crossing the desert. So, this is the first place we will see evidence of Border Patrol. These 3 metals boxes, which must feel like ovens in the 120 degree summer, are housing units for the BP and are probably mostly used during marijuana  crop season.

My second trip down CdD, I ran into these BP guys.... got stuck behind them for several miles before they pulled over and let me by. The CdD is a two-way one-lane road. Passing is tough and meeting on-coming traffic is tougher.

Once the road exits the park and heads west, it gets pretty sandy so someone, I'm assuming BP, put down metal runners. These are slippery and loud and interesting to drive on. They only run for a few miles.

Seriously wanted to slam on my brakes at a high speed to see how far we would skid...



A lot of the drive was spent watching for graves on the side of the road - we saw a few but didn't get photos. Not gonna lie - a lot of the drive was spent watching the south side of the road for humans hiding in the bushes or running across the desert. We never saw anyone suspicious. We did, however, see this....

the astroturf is a nice touch... we know you're
scared and dying of thirst and possibly heatstroke
or tuberculosis, but here is some
astroturf to remind you of civilization.

This is one of several beacons that save lives. Written in English, Spanish, and Tohono O'odham, instructions state that by pushing the button, help will arrive within one hour and you should stay in place. The button not only sends signal to the nearest Border Patrol outpost but it also lights up a flashing beacon for anyone to see.

There is a large BP outpost set up out there along the way. Its not at all inviting but it did ease my mind as Leo and I drove by it. We had been traveling on hard packed dirt but up ahead was a very large valley, and valleys mean one thing: Sand. Sand is not a 4-wheeler's friend. I wanted to stop and have Leo drive but he refused, saying I needed to drive to prove to myself that I could do it. (Later he admitted that he didn't want to get us stuck and then have all of his LEO co-workers find out. So there! Now they all know. :-)  )

Not only was there sand, but the road was so entrenched that I was grateful for all 10 inches of clearance my Xterra provided us. Imagine being forced, at 30mph, to choose one of several paths, all the while knowing that you'd be stuck with the path chosen no matter what because your vehicle literally wouldn't be able to get out of it. That's exactly what happened; only oh wait! Don't forget the sand - powder-fine sand was billowing up all around the car so much that I had to turn on my windshield wipers. (Yes, I have indeed used windshield wipers in one of the driest places in north america - for sand, not water.) The wipers only marginally helped but never fear, the horrid trenched road kept us on path - remember those old timey model T cars at AstroWorld that straddled an iron bar, bouncing you back onto the path every time you tried to steer away? Yeah, same theory here. So here we are, driving blind at 30 mph in a trench filled with powder-fine sand, when it dawned on me that this is a two-way road and anyone coming directly at us would be in exactly the same predicament we were in. The constant scare of a head-on collision really did wonders for my other nagging concern for traversing the Camino in the first place. Thanks!

Of course Leo and I survived the trenches... and continued onto the flats. A lot of flats...

Eventually we hit the next series of mountains (the Camino crosses through a series of Basin and Range-style mountain ranges. This is where the water is and this is what made the desert cross-able ) The next mountain pass was pretty cool. There was a  primitive campground and a few small buildings. I guess one was a house or small store or something. Whatever, it was shade! We stopped in to take a look around. Someone a while back had stashed a composition notebook in there and all Camino-crossers had signed it. As I sat there and read all the entries over the last few years, I recognized a few names and had a few laughs. I was reminded of the notebooks left in huts all along the Appalachian Trail. Those are filled with some good reading!

The road splits around a few of the mountains several times, is filled with lots of dead-ends, and lots of beckoning places. Leo and I chose to take a side-road south, for reasons I can't remember. We traveled a pretty route between two mountains that was twisty-turny, steep-walled, and had been described in a book as 'a great place for banditos to hide and hijack a vehicle'. Awesome and I definitely agree. I was very uncomfortable with the idea of parking and walking away from the car in search of petroglyphs. The last thing we needed was to lose our vehicle in the middle of desert nowhere! Once we were out of Tinajas Altas Pass, we were soon stopped by BP. (It wouldn't be the last time we took a road less traveled and were stopped by BP. More on that another time.) It was nice to see someone along that section of road because we weren't exactly sure where we were. He pointed us up a road that led through another pass and back to the main route.

The road became very wide and flat, and we ran across a military training - I don't know what branch or what you call a group of military people because I simply don't care. Here was an encampment, training and exercising along the Camino. It was pretty disconcerting to see tanks and military weapons moving around out here in the beautiful wilderness. We were approaching Yuma so I'm guessing they come out of there to strafe and train and whatnot. The road soon dumped us unceremoniously out onto the highway and back into civilization. Our 13-hour trek along the Camino had come to an end. Its so odd to think that just miles south of Interstate 8 where people are whizzing by on their way to the Pacific Ocean, there is a whole other world waiting to be explored. (and it took more than a month for all of the powder sand to disappear from my vehicle.)

On a Camino trip the following year, my friend S and I went in search of Tinajas Altas - an infamous canyon filled with water, petroglyphs, and probably illegals. Past the mind-numbing flats, the powder sands, the campground... We knew how to sniff out rock art - go into the desert and find water... not so tough!

Looking north out of Tinajas Altas Canyon

We found Tinajas Altas, climbed up into it a bit but didn't want to get stuck like so many unfortunate animals have done. We spent a few hours looking around for petroglyphs, found a few but not the main ones we were hoping to see.

S standing lower left, climbing up around the canyons

All in all, both Camino trips were packed with adventure and wilderness. I draw happiness from knowing that there are still wild and dangerous places out there in the U.S., places to still head out into the unknown.

Traveling Ancient Roads in New Mexico (or Our Urination Vacation) Part 2: All Roads Lead to Chaco Canyon

Besides finding the perfect book on rock art at Chaco Culture National Historic Site, M and I were blessed with the most random animal sightings on this trip. While walking to the breakfasty-awesomeness that is the Happy Belly Deli, we heard the craziest squawking in the air.

just barely visible from upper left diagonally down to
lower right.... hundreds of geese flying south for winter

The drive from TorC to Chaco was long, but interesting. Lots of music was listened to, lots of places found on the map, a quick detour into Albuquerque for Indian food, and discussion of the new spaceport in New Mexico.


My view for the whole ride... looking good, M!

As we entered the park (after a long and washboarded road off the highway), we saw a sign for elk. I made some smart-ass comment about always seeing Watch for Animal signs but never seeing the animals. Just as the words left my mouth, I spotted not 1, not 2, but 7 elk about 60 yards away! Big tall antlered males and cow-looking females. I'm pretty sure M got to hear me say in my most baby-talk voice how I loved the cute little elk (and to his credit, he still loves me). Ok, so I did get a photo of the 7 cute little big-antlered elk but it looks like every other tourists' animal photos; the kind where you show people and have to back it up with "see? right there? I swear that brown bump is an elk butt!"

After hitting the visitor center for our park passport stamps, we found the perfect campsite and set up shop. I'm typically a low-key car camper or backpacker.... tiny stove, tiny tent, no pillow. M is a bit more luxurious. We packed my feather bed, two big sleeping pads, several pillows, Coleman two-burner stove, and awesome food. We were set to hit the loop road that takes visitors by 8+ great houses that are about 1,000 years old.

Our sweet-ass campsite set-up - M's photo



Exuding excitement! Seriously, I was in nerdy archaeology
and photography heaven! (M's photo)

I quickly discovered that I was traveling with Ansel Adams....

M's photo - the clouds rock!

M's photo - but the blue sky rocks hard too!

M's photo - Checking out 1,000 year-old
masonry work as the sun goes down

We made it to two Great Houses, walking all around and photo-documenting every inch, before we lost the sun and had to head back to camp. Once the sun went down, my southern-ass began to freeze. I had 3 layers, gloves and a hat, and STILL was cold! We had forgotten firewood so there was no fire to keep warm by. We ate a quick meal and hit the tent, snuggling down in our sleeping bags.

In the middle of the night, I was pulled from sleep by an odd sound that I hadn't heard in years.... Coyotes! Click here for random video of coyote sounds. (Lennox was very interested in my computer as it suddenly began speaking coyote to him). Coyotes are such a wonderful part of any desert camping experience. I can't believe that in Texas people hunt them for sport and the state kills them as nuisance wildlife.

Another amazing thing about camping at Chaco? The un-freaking-believable night sky! I got up to pee in the middle of the night. Stepping outside the tent, I looked up and stopped dead in my tracks. I swear I reached up to try and touch the stars, they were so bright and so close!

[Totally dorky side note: most of Chaco's Great Houses were built in relation to the stars and the movements of the sun. If my night sky were this gorgeous, I would do the same!]

A not-so-amazing thing about camping at Chaco? At some point in the night, M heard something walking through our campsite. He says it sounded like human footsteps and there was a trail connecting several tent sites together. That's normal and a totally cool camping thing... but me finding a large puddle of urine not 10 yards from our tent and M realizing that it was the guy he heard walking in the middle of the night? not cool. I'm hoping that the dude was simply walking down the trail away from his tent and found a great bush to relieve himself by, not realizing that he was actually in our tent site.



Anyone who has ever camped knows how horribly cold it is in the morning when your need for coffee (or a toilet) overrides your need to stay in your warm bag. Anyone who's camped with me knows that I will bargain almost anything for YOU to make the coffee and let me stay in my bag.

making my own coffee... M's photo

The good thing about the desert is it'll warm up quickly once the sun rises. We had breakfast and hit the trail - Pueblo Alto Trail leading up out of the canyon onto the plateau and offering great views!

M's photo - me climbing up a crack in the rock wall to get up
out of the canyon and onto the plateau

Fantastic snacktime view of Pueblo Bonito, the most visited site at Chaco

M getting his own shots of Pueblo Bonito - love the brilliant yellow
cottonwoods lining the creek down below!

Continuing the trail along the edge of the canyon, we passed over one of the many ancient roads leading out of the canyon to the north.

Chaco Road steps carved into the cliff edge carried
millions of humans and tons of trade-goods to
present-day Colorado and Utah - M's photo

Our trail was a bit smaller, and the steps were
a bit rougher. The upside is that I love
my ass in this photo... it looks pretty good!

ok, stop looking at my ass

Goofing around on the trail - definitely a great part
of hiking! Learning to use the continuous shutter
on my camera makes it even better!



black-on-white pottery sherd... holding a 1,000 year
old lithic leftover in my hand

Somewhere along the trail, my spidey-senses began tingling and I spotted this! After examining it, we hid it under a rock right where we found it. [Never take artifacts back to the rangers. Leave it where you found it, in situ, for nature to reclaim or another hiker to 'discover'.]



A ways on down the trail, still along the cliff edge, we came across another Great House down below. As I stood there focusing my lens to get a birds-eye shot, I realized that one of the NPS masonry workers was PEEING. He had his back to the wall, which meant he was facing me, and after furtive glances to the left and the right, let loose. Even with my awesome zoom lens, I couldn't spot his little manhood (thankyoubabyjesus). The best part of it was after he zipped up, he happened to look up my way. So I waved....

After 6 miles up on the plateau, we made our way down the rock crack back to our car.


Sorry mom but I have to post all afraid-of-heights
photos. Down below is another Great House, and just up
the road is our car. - M's photo

We headed to the visitor center to watch the park's video, play with some antelope ground squirrels, and then back to camp to make dinner. We had an amazing dinner - brown rice with bell peppers, mushrooms, and broccoli. Definitely better than my pbj that I usually eat while camping.

The chef and his work space

Oh! and while we were making dinner, I spotted our other neighbor (not Midnight Pee Man) with his back to the parking lot and the rest of the tent sites, PEEING onto a bush behind his tent. Men have no shame! (For those of you counting, this makes the 3rd man in two days to whip it out in the wild and urinate in my vicinity)

See you in Part 3 when we'll conclude our Chaco adventure and take a look back at things we learned... besides the fact that men will pee whenever, wherever. Whatever....

Traveling Ancient Roads in New Mexico (or Our Urination Vacation) Part 1: Classic 1950s Chic

As much as I've traveled in my life, I've come across some nerve-wracking experiences; none as truly nerve-inducing as traveling with someone else for the very first time. Questions ranging from "will we get on each others nerves after a constant 4 days together?" and "will my need to control the radio on road trips ruin our relationship?" to "OMG, can I get away with a murder if forced to go to Branson, or will a jury be sympathetic?" start to pop into my head. Well, last month, my boyfriend M and I went on our very first road trip together. (Don't worry, he's still alive, I swear.)

With only 2 days to plan our trip, we had decided on a road trip to Chaco Culture National Historic Site. Chaco has been on my life-list, and M's life-list, ever since I first heard about it. I immediately began planning; our hikes, our food, our route; our playlist. We originally decided to try and take in a few sites up near Santa Fe, as well as the Gila Wilderness, until we realized that this would become a very long week trip and I only had 4 days. One of the most important things I've learned while traveling the world is you MUST be flexible, so we settled on the interstate over backroads, and speed over winding mountain roads. (That "avoid interstate routes" option on a GPS is one of my favorite things.) As we were discussing camping options on the way up to Chaco, M mentioned that Truth or Consequences had some hot springs. Hot springs?! Yes sir, I am interested in that!

I found a hot springs' adjacent motel in TorC for the same price as a boring highway motel. TorC's hot springs district is "historic", which can sometimes mean shitty, old, decrepit, or non-existent. Fortunately for these two travelers, we have open minds and adventurous spirits! Our motel, described on their website as a "classically charming 1950s motor lodge", was the perfect thing for us. It had been remodeled and reopened by two gentlemen with unique style and fabulous taste.

Let me just set the scene... We arrive in TorC after dark, following some not-so-great directions to the motel, and park at the front entrance gates. Walking into the courtyard, we were quickly plunged into darkness. There were no outdoor lights on and only a small amount of light could be seen from behind a few curtains. I guess I should mention that the two fabulous owners had emailed me saying that if we arrived after 6pm not to worry about going to the main office. We would find our key in the open door of our room #8, titled "The Morning Glory Room". (Bone-chilling flashbacks to scenes from Hostel or Wrong Turn began playing in my mind. Every person watching a movie version of this trip would be screaming at the screen "don't go in there!")

The room numbers were all but impossible to read in the dark so there I am, walking up to each door and searching for a room number by the light of my phone! I found that most of the rooms were not only vacant, but the doors were open. M was not happy with me as I entered each one to see if it was ours. After a few minutes of searching, we finally found our room; door open, key on table, lights out. M swept the room like an FBI agent, opening each door and peering around corners, before he finally settled down and we turned on the lights. The minute the lights were on, I was in love with the place!


Super-cute homemade pillowcase reused as a curtain



painted trim on wooden mirror - kudos on
the wall color too!



Hot springs tub big enough to hold a small
swingers party... or just me and M.



My favorite part.... petroglyphs drawn
into the bedroom wall!



Wondering what to do with all those pesky wine bottles left
behind when guests check out? Make a garden wall!



Fabulously friendly cat who sat with me for coffee in the morning

After an interesting night's sleep (the hot springs had a narcotic amount of lithium in them and we passed out immediately after our soak, with the bed spinning and a glorious sinking-into-the-mattress feeling), we got up and walked over to the local breakfast spot....


not our car... but it is M's photo so no stealing!

 ... and then on to a very funky weird packed used bookstore. I've been looking for a lawyers' bookcase for years and now I know where they've all ended up - at this bookstore! Bookcases were haphazardly stacked on top of each other to the ceiling with no concern for gravity. Each room of this house was a different topic and once I found the travel room and the archaeology room, I was hooked! In the end, I found the companion book to my copy of an archaeological record of rock art in New Mexico, with whole sections dedicated to Chaco.

Maybe its the magical waters of TorC, or some kind of New Mexican vortex, but finding that book would prove to be the perfect beginning to the drive to Chaco.