New Mexico (5-10 April 2019)

Long ago, when planning this trip, Bill had marked Carlsbad Caverns as a desirable destination in New Mexico. The caves are home to thousands of bats, who make a spectacular exit at dusk as they come out to feed. Closer attention to the Caverns' web site established that this natural wonder is closed to the public until 1 May. We were too early!

Our Boondockers Welcome host, Tony, had lots of suggestions for alternative destinations. We were beginning to realise that the American West is far too big and far too interesting to do it justice in the 90 days we had available.

We had seen some pecan orchards in Texas, but New Mexico is the biggest producer and it was the dominant land use around Vado and Las Cruces.

Not all the place names in New Mexico are of Spanish origin. Our first port of call was near a town rejoicing in the name“Truth or Consequences”. Yes, really. It was originally called Hot Springs but in 1950 a popular radio quiz show offered to air the program on its 10th anniversary from the first town that renamed itself after the show.

The point of interest had a similarly improbable name. It was the Elephant Butte Lake State Park.

A lot of New Mexico is arid.

The state park provides recreation opportunities on the Elephant Butte Reservoir. There is a campground, and more importantly a boat-launching ramp. The fizz boat in the background was one of many on the lake. The fisherman in the foreground was trying to catch bait so that he could go after the big catfish. He was delighted to meet New Zealanders because he was hoping to emigrate there. His opinion of President Trump was, if it is possible, even lower than that of our friends in Asheville.

The lake was formed by damming the Rio Grande with a view to simultaneously generating power and providing water for irrigation.

The name "Elephant Butte" refers to a volcanic core, said to resemble an elephant, which is now an island in the lake.

Since we had paid a “day use” fee to enter the park we felt entitled to use the dump station and emptied our tanks.

Not far up the road is the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge. What wildlife take refuge in Apache Forest? It turned out to be mostly waterfowl. The refuge is a large and attractive wetland. We couldn't tell whether the birds we saw were there to breed or still on their migration. But there were lots of them.

A pair of Gadwalls

Buffleheads

Not all the birds were on the water. These are Mourning Doves.

America's national table birds. Male turkeys face off.

Alas for the camera, the water birds especially were a very long way off and beyond the effective range of even the big telephoto lens. There were Northern Shovelers, Coots, Canada Geese, a Great Blue Heron, Pied-billed Grebes, Great Egrets, Ross's Geese and the ubiquitous Killdeer. Off the water there were corvids (crow-type birds) of uncertain species.

Mammals were represented by Mule Deer. We saw a few in the refuge and a large herd a mile down the road.

There were some flowers at the refuge.

Salinas Pueblo Missions National Monument wasn't on our itinerary when we set out, but it was on the map and not far out of our way. It was a place where the Spaniards, in the early days of contact, installed priests and built a church. No, that's not right. They installed priests and then compelled the indigenous population to build a church.

The remains of the church and its adjacent buildings.

The indigenous population were part of the pre-Columbian puebloanpopulation that built towns and villages of permanent materials along the Rio Grande and Colorado river systems. They were divided into 3 or 4 language groups, but had very similar cultures.

A shared feature was the building of kivas. A kiva was a circular room for religious ceremonies, political meetings, schooling, story telling, etc. The ones we saw had floors below ground level, although they were not entirely subterranean. What is remarkable about Salinas Pueblo is a structure that looks like a kiva adjacent to a Catholic Church.

This certainly looks like a kiva, but it is in the midst of the Franciscans' residence. A cunning strategy for making conversions? No-one knows.

The site is in the hands of a lively young ranger and she, or some predecessor, has a keen sense of humour.

There were flowers in the dry soil if you looked carefully.

As we returned to Gregory to leave Salinas Pueblo we got a nasty surprise. We noticed that one of the front tyres was badly and unevenly worn. Its partner wasn't in great shape either. Oh dear. Shouldn't the wheel alignment in Penticton last year have prevented that? Maybe, but that was many thousands of miles ago.

The day's schedule was suddenly rearranged. All sightseeing was cancelled and top priority given to making our vehicle properly roadworthy. We did have the tools to change a wheel, but didn't fancy doing so. We set off to find help.

The first little town along the road had a tire shop (Americans cannot spell “tyre”), but it was locked up. On a weekday. At the gas station they weren't surprised.

The next settlement had an auto repair shop right on the highway. For a very modest fee the mechanic wheeled out his huge hydraulic jack and changed the bad wheel for the spare. While he was working he observed that the brake pad on that side was worn almost away. But the other brake pad was still fine. The mechanic was also able to direct us to a tyre/tire supplier.

The town with this vital succour is called Moriarty. We wondered if the name was based on Conan Doyle's arch villain. It is surely not a nod to the Goon Show character.

The tyres/tires could be installed without waiting. Hooray. But they could not be aligned. There was no-one in Moriarty with the equipment necessary to align the wheels of such a large vehicle.

We asked for a recommended brake pad fitter and were directed to an outfit modestly calling itself “Higher Standards”. The owner was much more down to earth than the business name and could fit us in on the following day.

To ease the pain of so much expense we lashed out on a paid campground and ate out that evening at a modest diner.

In the morning the good news was that the necessary brake parts has been delivered. The bad news was that more work was needed. One of the ball joints had to be replaced. This was a surprise because we believed that all the ball joints had been renewed in Summerland last July. “This is an old ball joint.” We were presented with a filthy piece of metal to support the statement, presumably so that we could present it to the Canadian mechanic and claim a refund. We dutifully stowed the grubby evidence.

On new front tyres and with new brake pads we drove to Albuquerque with the name of a recommended wheel aligner. We had telephoned ahead and been advised that the job could not be done immediately, but they would fit us in on the morrow.

Back to being tourists for the afternoon, we navigated cautiously through Albuquerque to Petroglyph National Monument. Like the Salinas Pueblo, this is a small site by national monument standards. It only has two parking places, and one of them was not recommended for RVs. Time was fairly short anyway, so we only walked one trail.

Just because we are here to see the petroglyphs doesn't mean that we ignore the fauna and flora:

A spiny desert plant

Its fruits(?) in close-up

A non-spiny desert plant

A Rock Wren

Over hundreds of years naturally light-coloured rock oxidises and acquires a thin black coating on the surface. The early human inhabitants of the area found that the coating could be chipped off to reveal the pale rock below.

What these images represent and why they were created can only be speculation. Maybe we have been solemnly admiring ancient graffiti.

An early bird-watcher starting a list of species seen?

Curating the petroglyphs presents an interesting problem. Once the oxide has been removed the fresh surface immediately begins the process and, in a few hundred years, will be as black as the rest of the surface. In the short term the art can be left in situ and exposed to the elements. But eventually …

This property of the petroglyphs has one advantage. The age of an image can be estimated by the extent to which it has been re-oxidised.

For a night in Albuquerque we first applied to Walmart, but it turned out to be one of the Walmart stores that don't permit overnight parking. Plan B was to try Cracker Barrel. The manageress was very welcoming “... but I don't know you're there.” We agreed that Cracker Barrel had no responsibility while we were parked behind their store.

As a token of our gratitude we had a modest Cracker Barrel breakfast in the morning before driving off to get the wheels aligned. We had got ourselves up and moving much earlier than usual to try and get to the head of the job list. No promises were given about the time our vehicle would be worked on, but Gregory must have been near the top of the schedule because it was only a couple of hours before we were invited to pay an invoice.

Not all Pueblos are ruins, like Salinas. Acoma claims to be the longest continuously inhabited settlement in North America. It's open to tourists, so we went to have a look.

On the way we considered the difference between a mesa and a butte. A mesa is defined as “a flat-topped hill with steep sides”, and a butte as “an isolated hill with steep sides and a flat top (similar to but narrower than a mesa)”.

Mesa or butte?

Probably a butte.

Acoma was, of course, laid out long before there were motor vehicles to consider. Tourists are required to take the bus since only high clearance 4WD vehicles can make it up the hill, and there is little room to park when you get to the village. This gives the tours a great monopoly position, but the price is pretty reasonable.

The largest building in the pueblo is the church. Again, it was built with forced labour. The timber had to be carried, by humans, for 40 miles. The priests ordered that the wood selected for certain purposes was so sacred it must not be allowed to touch the ground and the bearers had to change places without putting the tree down or go back and start again with another tree. Christian charity as practiced in the 17^thcentury.

The church is still used by the villagers, but as they choose. A priest comes only once or twice a year for specific festivities. Our guide told us that he wasn't allowed to tell us much about the local religion, although visitors are permitted to watch some traditional ceremonies – or parts of them. We got the strong impression that the traditional beliefs have robustly survived the Spaniards' attempt to eradicate them, although some Catholic ritual may have been incorporated.

The village also includes 3 kivas. Outsiders are not invited into a kiva.

Our guide. We have forgotten his name :-(.

A street in the pueblo. Most families have homes nearer to their 21^stcentury employment, but they return to the pueblo for festivals and other important events. Why are there so many ladders? Traditionally, the entrance to a house was through the roof.

Of the houses that were occupied, three were offering crafts for sale.

On the way to our campsite we passed a natural arch:

This is La Ventana – the Window.

That night we were booked in to another Boondockers Welcome. This one was an alpaca ranch. The hosts were lovely and the dogs were very friendly. So why did we take no photographs? Doh.

The ranch was at quite high altitude and it was COLD that night. Gregory had an effective heater, but we needed a 110v power supply to make it work. At least it was an incentive to get dressed and ready for the road to Arizona.

Boondockers Welcome

The boondocks are “rough, remote, or isolated country”. Boondocking is parking a motor home or trailer outside established campgrounds with no power, water or other facilities. We've done a lot of boondocking. 

It's simple economics. A regular campground is $30-$50 per night, and sometimes much more. We've paid up to $78 (ouch) and several times seen rates over $100 per night. If the average is $40 per night and we have spent 10 months on the road you work it out.

In late March we were told about an organisation called Boondockers Welcome. People with space offer it for RVers to park. There is no charge for just parking, but if the visitor uses facilities, such as power or wi-fi or water, a small charge to cover the cost is usual. Membership is just $40 per year, so it pays for itself very quickly! You know that your overnight location is legal and safe.

Best of all, the hosts are there and it can be very sociable. Parking in a gravel pit beside the highway is free, but almost always solitary.

The system is quite simple. The traveller looks to see if there are any hosts near the place they want to stop. If there are, they read the host's profile. If they like what they see they send a request to stay. The potential host reads the traveller's profile and decides whether or not to accept. If they do, the traveller is sent the exact location and driving directions.

Locations are nearly all in North America, and not spread evenly. Fair enough. If we lived close to a major attraction like Yellowstone we would be reluctant to host. The number of requests to visit would be huge.

Our guest ID is “Kiwi RVers”. Most IDs are a little cryptic to protect the privacy, particularly of the hosts. To respect that privacy the host names in this post are fictitious.

Our first request was to a host in New Mexico, a day's driving from Study Butte (see last post – Big Bend), which was promptly accepted. Using our GPS to confirm the directions we arrived at a rural property with a large trailer in the yard. Virtually all hosts are RVers themselves so that was not surprising. We knocked at the door and a man came out. “We're Kiwi RVers.”

He did a double take, looked at us and at the trailer. “But they are the Kiwis ...” It was extraordinary. Two New Zealand couples had applied to stay for the same night. How many New Zealanders are in New Mexico at any one time? Tony had assumed that the Boondockers Welcome computer had sent him a duplicated request and just hit “Accept” again. The other couple had a different user ID, but it had “Kiwis” in it.

In a varied career Tony had been a truck driver for some years. He backed Gregory into our allotted space more quickly than we would have done so.

A shared meal was in course of preparation. Somehow there were enough ribs to feed an extra two people and we contributed some wine. It was a very enjoyable meal. 

We had coffee together in the morning and Tony suggested some local attractions. Somehow our stay had become two nights. There was a market that day in Las Cruces, which was not very far away. And Tony had the inside knowledge on where the cheapest gasoline could be found.

By the time we got to Las Cruces and found a parking spot the market was beginning to pack up. But we bought some lunch and some pecans (pee-kahns). We were, after all, in a major pecan-growing area.

A pecan orchard. The growers use “flood irrigation”.

For the second night we provided burgers for another shared and very convivial meal. Tony recommended places to visit in New Mexico. Far more places than we had time for.

This was an amazing introduction to Boondockers Welcome. A long chat and maybe a glass of wine with the hosts seems to be normal, but we never had another shared meal.

In all, we made 10 applications to stay with Boondockers Welcome hosts. Two were declined with apologies because the hosts were not at home. One was accepted despite the hosts being away. There was an alpaca ranch, with huge, affectionate Pyrenean dogs. Most of the properties were fairly rural. This is to be expected since city homes would struggle to accommodate even one RV. But one host was a large suburban property.

One host couple invited us to join them at a campfire, where we sipped wine and swapped yarns through the evening. All hosts would provide helpful advice on places of interest in their area. Several had a power point available for us, and waved away offers to pay for the electricity.

One host couple, whom we will call Tommy and Betty Lou, apparently accept all requests. When we arrived they already had two guest rigs and simply directed us to park on their large lawn. They were a lovely couple and welcomed us back for a second visit.

We always said a heartfelt thank you and presented our hosts with some of the dish cloths that Eve knitted as we drove through America. If the conversation had got on to cooking Eve would also offer some of the sourdough starter that she has been cultivating since Whitehorse, a year ago. Veronica in California responded by giving us some home-made jams.

We've had no negative experiences with Boondockers Welcome.

Big Bend National Park, Texas (3-4 April 2019).

The drive across Texas from Louisiana was most pleasant. We generally avoided the major highways, and gave cities a wide berth. Lots of the verges were well populated with wildflowers. The Texas Bluebonnet was the most common, as is proper for the official State Flower, but there were plenty of other species.

As we drove Westward the scenery gradually changed to the arid land we associate with Western movies. We joked about the lack of stagecoaches in the valleys and the absence of Indians riding up to the skyline and giving their position away. Then, on a hilltop in the distance we saw a line of figures. Apaches? No, they were wind turbines a long way off.

Big Bend National Park had been recommended by an actual Texan we met at the Bayou Segnette State Park campground in New Orleans. It was a splendid tip. The mistake we made was in moving on too quickly, but we were concerned about how much more of the West there was to see in the 90 days allowed by our visas.

We spent a night in the Walmart parking lot in Fort Stockton. In the morning we went to fill up with Walmart's competitively priced gasoline but something was wrong with the till and it wouldn't accept our plastic money. “Too bad for Walmart”, we thought. There are other gas stations in Fort Stockton although we may have to pay 5c more per gallon. Our GPS smoothly navigated us to US-385 towards Marathon completely avoiding fuel opportunities. We didn't pass another gas station until we arrived in Marathon, where the monopolist fuel supplier charged 50c per gallon more than Walmart. Curses.

Our first Pronghorn Antelope. Like most of those seen subsequently, this one is on farmland behind a fence. We are told that they migrate long distances and conclude that the fences must be to keep cattle and other domestic animals in because they do not keep wild deer and antelope out.

At Big Bend we were greeted with a sign that said all the campgrounds in the park were full. Oh no. But the ranger who inspected our annual pass reassured us that there were private campgrounds just outside the park. One, near the North entrance “never seems to fill up” and there were several near the West entrance where he was sure we would find a site easily. We advanced to inspect the wonders of Big Bend National Park.

Why is the park so busy in early April? It's not holiday time. Children are all at school. We identified two reasons:

1. The climate is very pleasant in April. In July and August it gets very hot.
2. In Spring the desert blooms. Forget parched, arid, lifeless landscapes. The desert plants do have a harsh life, but after a little moisture in the Spring they put their energy into creating the next generation and produce their flowers. Sometimes abundantly and often beautifully.

The general scenery of the Chihuahuan Desert is dry and not very colourful at long range:

The Giant Dagger Yucca is the dominant member of its family in the area.

A particularly fine flower head.

A selection of flowers:

Some sort of poppy.

A daisy

Lupins

Texas Bluebonnets

The most fascinating for us were the spiny plants and their blossoms:

No, we didn't try to pick one. Isn't that a gorgeous colour?

There were prickly pear cacti all over the place.

This one has buds.

They open into yellow flowers, but not all at the same time.

Aren't they lovely?

This clump may be one plant or several.

A species of aloe.

The 'plates' of the prickly pears are edible. Many of them had been attacked by insects, and apparently the javelinas (wild pigs) eat them spines and all. The ones we saw in supermarkets had the spines removed. They may have been grown commercially. We didn't have any cooking instructions so we didn't buy any.

A particularly vicious botanical specimen is known as Ocotillo or the “Buggy Whip”.

It has long, thin stems …

... covered with spines.

The flowers are clusters of small red blooms …

... that were attracting lots of attention from bees.

Can you see the bee flying away in this picture?

This was the first time we had seen desert country with information boards. There was so much to try and take in.

The park includes the entire Chisos mountain range. We saw them, but the only access road was not recommended for vehicles over 24 feet long, even though it is paved. Nor were we game to take Gregory, our motor home, on the unpaved roads. The “improved” dirt roads were described as accessible for most vehicles, but all drivers were advised to inquire about current conditions before venturing out along one of these roads. The “primitive” dirt roads were strictly for high clearance 4WD vehicles.

However, there were plenty of miles of safe, paved roads. Some of them were described on the park map as scenic drives, but really the whole park is scenic.

We elected to look for a camping spot outside the West entrance. The first option was the Study (pronounced “Stoody”) Butte (properly pronounced “Beaut” as you probably know, but which we always want to say as “Butty”) RV Park. All the regular sites were full, but we were offered dry camping (no connections to power, etc.) for only $25 per night. Cash. There were hot showers. “Find yourselves a spot. How about over there by the washing line?”

You don't see many washing lines in America. Nearly everyone uses an electric dryer. This was a rotary clothes line that had seen better days. Much better days. Probably more than half of the lines were broken and dangling forlornly. All strands were well coated with dust.

The manageress was a great talker and excused the campground's imperfections by pointing out that she and her husband were hosting for the season, and not the owners. Somehow the conversation got around to beer and she was fascinated that Bill brews his own beer in New Zealand. He did his best to describe home brewing using a kit. “Where can I get one?” It didn't look as though Study Butte's only store was a source of brewing supplies. We suggested that kits might be sold online.

Big Bend NP claims an impressive birding list, mostly as birds migrate between Mexico and more temperate breeding grounds. We were told that the area near the Rio Grande Information Center was the best place to go birding.

In terms of number of species it was rather disappointing. The Spring migration must have already moved on. But we did see some birds and other wildlife.

There were Turkey Vultures patrolling hopefully above the river.

At one point our path was high enough to see this vulture side-on.

This one passed close overhead. This picture has not been cropped – the vulture was close enough to fill the frame.

Some ponds had been dug for an attempt at cultivation in pre-national park days. These trees are probably another legacy of that time.

From the rushes by a pond came an extraordinary noise. It was deep, something between a bassoon and an off-key french horn. The ranger at the information center had no idea what it could be. A large frog, maybe?

A turtle sunning itself.

A damsel fly.

A beautifully camouflaged cricket.

The best known desert bird – a Roadrunner. It's a member of the cuckoo family, but the experts say that it makes its own nest. They do not go “Beep beep”.

We are always keen to see wildlife and that includes snakes.  There is a proviso - that the snake cannot get at us.  In Big Bend two snakes showed themselves.  In both cases we were driving at the time and have no photographs to corroborate this.

The first was disguised as a road marking.  Some road repairs leave black lines of fresh tar on the surface.  As we passed over one such area one of the tar streaks started to wiggle vigorously.  Either Bill experienced an unprecedented optical illusion or it was a thin, black snake.

Various signs around the park warn the visitor against rattlesnakes, and others tease you with stories of pink snakes.  I ask you!  But we saw one.  It was large and very pink.  We both saw it.  It is called a Red Racer.  They are not venomous, but one description we found warned that they are very bad tempered.  We didn't stop to pick it up.

The Rio Grande. That's Mexico on the other side.

The river flows through these hills. Can you see where? We couldn't for a long time.

Inside the Boquillas Canyon, whose opening is in the previous picture. It's true, the river flows right through.

Along the trail to the Boquillas Canyon were some souvenir stalls. These wire and bead models – this one is a roadrunner – caught our eye. So much so that Eve actually bought one.

We learned too late about the trips to Mexico. If you have $5 and your passport with you it is possible to go through customs formalities at Boquillas Crossing and be rowed across the river to officially visit Mexico.

It is even easier to unofficially cross the border. The river isn't wide and it is an easy swim. We promised not to say that we saw any folk doing this.

We returned to Study Butte for another night by the clothes line. Sunset that evening was spectacular.