Tucson was nice, but once again fellow travelers it was time to continue my epic journey. With my noble steed at hand, a 2007 Hyundai Elantra, I left Tucson on Saturday the 26th.
You're dedicated, long-haired driver. How did I take this pic while driving? Taekwondo.
I was no stranger to the extreme distances and open spaces of the Southwest, which are both breathtaking and even unsettling in their immensity. However I had never driven during such a stormy period. Rain clouds randomly crossed the desert, unleashing a massive torrent of water wherever they stood. These “flash floods” disappeared equally quickly. Throughout my entire journey I would come across these clouds. They could be sighted from miles away because of the visible stream of water pouring down beneath them.
A sporadic rain cloud drenching the hot ground beneath it.
Rainbow forming out of some rain clouds.
The emptiness of the desert was equally interesting, and even puzzling. Every dozen or so miles there would be a shack or trailer, sitting in the middle of nowhere. What purpose do these structures serve? Does someone actually live here, sometimes hundreds of miles from civilization and isolated in the scorching 100 degree heat? Or are these abandoned structures, commercial spaces, or even Meth labs? I was not about to pull over and find out.
The grand emptiness of the New Mexico desert. Some plants still cling to life here, in spite of the extreme environment.
Reflection in my car rear view mirror of the New Mexico sky.
Electric poles following the interstate, for miles and miles...
Massive freight train in New Mexico.
I took I-10 directly into New Mexico, where I got on the NM-26. What’s interesting is that everyone on the 26 was going south, with not single car behind me or in front of me going north. At the end of this road was the town of Hatch. This desert town looked primarily occupied by Mexican-Americans, as almost 80% of the population is of Hispanic ancestry. There appeared to be a thriving tourist industry based entirely around hot chili. There are chili stands and shops on almost every street, and this is actually a famous location for hot chili contests. I made sure to acquire a jar of hot peppers that promised to “kick my ass.”
Banners for a chili festival hang over a street in Hatch, New Mexico.
A home in Hatch built in the Southwestern style.
Next was another interesting desert town, called Truth or Consequences. Initially I thought this was some sort of reference to Christian lore or the bible, but the town was actually named after a radio show in the 50’s. Originally it was called Hot Springs, and I wish I knew this because then I may have looked for these springs. Both Hatch and Truth had a western character all their own, with many old style buildings with both Spanish and “old west” designs. There were both impoverished areas and beautiful suburbs right next to one another.
Renamed after a radio host offered to broadcast from the first town that would change its name to that of his show.
An almost excessively blue house in Truth or Consequences. There were a few beautiful homes here with interesting designs.
"The consequences."
After this scenic drive the journey took a turn for the worst, or rather, the desperate. I took I-25 north to Albuquerque, the largest city in New Mexico. It was only around 9pm, but the constant rain clouds quickly darkened the sky, inducing a premature night. I had stayed in this city before on my trip from Phoenix to New York (in four days, mind you), and so I continued on to Santa Fe instead of stopping. My original goal was to find lodging there, but things didn’t work out exactly as planned. After missing the only exit for hotels, I continued defiantly northward, thinking that the next hotel could not be too far off. Just for future reference to anyone who hasn’t been in the Southwest: never assume there will be civilization ahead. Because in many cases, there won’t be anything.
Pumping gas before my epic trip into the night. Still happy hour in spite of high gas prices.
By this point I had been driving for around eight or nine hours, and a good hotel was all that was on my mind. Signs pointed me towards Las Vegas. “Yes,” I thought, “there are more hotels there than anywhere else in America!” But a nagging doubt lingered in the back of my mind. In fact, it was more than a doubt. I was absolutely certain this was not the gambling capital of the world, which instead lay hundreds of miles west in Nevada. But somehow in that desert delirium I clung to the idea, the hope of seeing those beautiful casino lights in the distance. Instead, 123 miles later, I arrived in Las Vegas, New Mexico.
In the darkness this foreboding place looked more like some lawless western settlement than a regular town. I half expected to be raided by mustached bandits with six shooters, who would leave me in the desert wearing nothing but a wooden barrel. Undoubtedly I may have had a different impression during the daytime.
Only adding to the dangerous atmosphere were hundreds of motorcycles and choppers parked in every hotel lot. This is when I learned that there was a biker convention in town, and every single hotel and motel room was booked solid. I drove from motel to motel, but to no avail. Finally, realizing my situation, I continued onward. At this point it was past midnight.
So I hit the 25 again, hoping, even convincing myself that lodging had to be a few miles away. Boy was I in for a drive.
The first settlement I hit was called Wagon Mound. Appropriately, there was no sign of human activity here. Continuing into the dark night (only made worst by sporadic rain), I passed exit after exit that apparently led to nowhere at all. I stopped near Springer, were both a motel and bed-and-breakfast were promised. Relief at last! Oh did I yearn for the cold embrace of slumber while driving hundreds and hundreds of miles through nothingness. But both locations were… as you undoubtedly have guised by now… booked solid.
Grabbing a Coke for the caffeine content (people who know me realize how desperate this situation was if I drank the stuff), I continued on, with more hotels promised in Raton. However when I called the Holiday Inn Express in the area, they informed me there was a car show and every hotel was booked. I can still hear my screams of frustration echoing in the desert.
Finally, half dead after driving for 12-14 hours and nearly 700 miles, I stopped at the first motel with a vacant sign and collapsed into a deep sleep at four in the morning.
After some needed rest, MUCH more to come!
PS: Sorry for the car pics Prof, otherwise I would never get there :)
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