This entry is out of chronological order

Let's backtrack a few hours. Elephant Butte Lake is next to Truth or Consequences. Truth or Consequences was originally named Hot Springs. Because, surprise, there are hot mineral springs there. It was an accurate name but rather generic for places with hot springs. Nothing to set it apart. Nothing memorable. No pizazz.

Maybe the city officials were aware of that when, in 1950, the Truth or Consequences radio quiz show (which later moved to TV) said it would air a program from the first city to rename itself after the show. Hot Springs took the plunge (nyuk-nyuk).

Being a hot springs fan, I had to try one of the establishments. A few of them have been modernized and moved upscale. But some haven't seen major renovation since the Sixties. They're the old style motor courts, funky but functional. I chose one of those. Besides, it was cheap.

As I got out of the Rolling Steel Tent, a farmer-looking guy about my age came out of the office and, without preliminaries, said, "Half hour, four dollars. Unless you need a towel." I had my own, thanks.

Latching the "Occupied" gate behind me, I went down a few steps and through a door into the bath. It was a very Seventies brick, wood and concrete chamber lit by a skylight. Plenty of hooks for clothing and towels, a bench for changing or hanging out. Three irregularly spaced steps/seats took me down into four foot deep, 6' x 10', gravel bottom pool. You could easily fit six or seven friendly adults in there, and I had it all to myself.

The water was not as hot as I'd hoped. But I found a spot by the water inlet that was more to my liking.

Except for a little gurgling at the drain pipe and the occasional vehicle passing outside, it was very quite and relaxing. I'm so glad there was no New Age meditation music. The only thing better would have been a massage afterward. And a nap. Instead, I hit the road.

The first week in May is the annual celebration of the whole Truth or Consequences name change thing. The event is called Fiesta and features a parade, beauty contest, food and such. I might come back. Another soak is always a good thing.

Viva la revolución

US involvement in the Mexican Revolution was a bit of a complicated mess, with the Woodrow Wilson administration switching sides in favor of the established government, leaving the revolutionaries in the lurch. We Americans don't get taught much about our part in that war, because it was dwarfed by WWI.

On March 9, 1916, Pancho Villa ordered a cross-border raid on Camp Furlong in Columbus, New Mexico wherein eighteen American civilians and soldiers and about eighty Villistas were killed. Some say it was for retribution, but the most likely reason was to steal horses and supplies.

Why am I writing about this? Because I'm camped at Pancho Villa State Park on the site of the former Camp Furlong. I'm still trying to figure out whether it's a campground with a museum or a museum with a campground. And a cactus garden.

And I'm here because it's the southernmost New Mexico state park. My goal is to hit as many of the parks as I can, from bottom to top.

Otherwise, unless you're a student of the Mexican Revolution, a fan of Villa, or you need to make a run across the border for medications, there's not much reason to drive thirty miles south of Deming. But I wouldn't have known that if I hadn't gone. That's what exploring is about.

Still all too true

Everywhere at once

I need to stop reading other van dweller blogs.

"Ooo, she/he is in a great area. I should go there."

"Oh, wait, this other place (in the opposite direction) sounds amazing. I should go there."

"But there's that other place I've always wanted to go."

"And that other place."

"SQUIRREL!"

I guess it's good that a variety of places interest me, that I want to see them and be there instead of wanting to anchor down in only one type of place. (This is why owning vacation property never made sense to me. Go to the same place every year? When there are so many other places to visit?) It's just that there's only one of me and I haven't figured out how to violate the laws of space, time and van travel so I can be at all those places right now.

So I make lists and plan routes. I'll get there. Eventually. Patience, old man.

They're B&W, so they must be arty

This is a new one to me

I will not be camping here

Because it's Mars

Elephant in the room

New Mexico offers an annual pass to all their state parks. Out-of-staters can get it for $225. Campsites are usually $10 a night, so the pass is worth it if you plan on spending more than a couple of weeks a year camping in the state. I do.

Right now I'm at Elephant Butte Lake, next to Truth or Consequences. I don't know yet which hill is Elephant Butte, but I know exactly where the lake is.

My primitive campsite (unpaved, no covered picnic table, no toilet, no electrical or water hook-ups, etc.) is on the top of a hill with 360 degree vistas. I like it better than the RV sites, if for no other reason than I don't have neighbors. Just me and some critter tracks.

Well, it's not totally primitive.

Aaaawk!

Straight lines are overrated

This was my route from Yuma to Roswell. Wandering is good.

Click map to enlarge

Bumpy or flat

The drive between Alamogordo and Roswell, and back, took me through very opposite terrain. I hadn't expected to climb up to the 7,500 foot Apache Summit, with ponderosa pines. Well, all right!

Sierra Blanca in the distance, with a little blanca still on top

Then it was prairie on the other side. That made sense after I remembered eastern New Mexico is in line with west Texas and eastern Colorado.

I've come to like the prairie. In small chunks, anyway. A hundred miles? Sure. A thousand? Mmmm, no.

White Knuckle Wednesday

Strong, gusty wind was blowing out of the south. I was driving west, trying to keep from being blown off the highway. Or rebounding into the oncoming lane. This is one drawback of vans.

Heather

Heather was practicing her French horn by Lea Lake.

"I'm trying to write a song," she said.

Deep

You know about sinkholes, right? The ground opens up and swallows roads, houses, city blocks, Corvette museums... Sinkholes = bad.

Well, not if they happened a long time ago, where no one lived, and then filled with water. Then you have recreation and a source of revenue. Such is Bottomless Lakes State Park, east of Roswell. Even though they say the lakes are bottomless, I doubt they go all the way through the planet.

Oh, wait, maybe they were made by space aliens. Yeah, that's it!

Just one (or is it two) of several sinkhole lakes in the park

Did someone say something about flying saucers?

If you're weird, like me, you go to Roswell and make a point of not seeing the UFO stuff. How about some real things about space instead? And some art?

They have a planetarium and a cool exhibit about Robert Goddard and rocketry.

There's a section on the West.

And there's art.

These are made of clay

I could live here

This is Aguirre Spring Campground, just east of Las Cruces, New Mexico, tucked up against the Organ Mountains, with a view of the White Sands area and Alamogordo in the distance. It's a very dramatic location. And cheap. Seven dollars a night, but only half that with a senior pass (which I qualify for in a few days).

Even though the campground is at 5,400 feet, and it was only April 1, it didn't get too chilly at night. Only in the low fifties. Piece of cake.

I say I could live here because it has a good blend of things I want. Besides being beautiful, it feels remote without being too far from civilization. I get a little creeped out when I'm totally alone out in the middle of nowhere. There are other campers, but if you pick the right spot, you don't see them. And unlike some campgrounds I've visited, the BLM takes good care of Aguirre Spring. Oh, and the road is paved and the parking spots are nicely graveled.

Alas, my traveling bone won't let me stay long. Too many other places to see and be. But I'll be back.