New Mexico--Under, Over, and Out
of this World

March  3-8, 2003


    One of the first stops in New Mexico has to be Carlsbad Caverns. They're not the deepest or the longest caves in the world, but they have to be up there with the most beautiful and awe-inspiring.  Again, pictures can't do justice to the unearthly atmosphere and constant sense of surprise as you turn corners and find ever more fantastic shapes and textures. This was another stop where our being ahead of the season paid off; we went late in the day (2:00 in the afternoon is the latest they will let you walk in--and walking in is definitely the way to go) and we had the whole expanse of cavern virtually to ourselves.

    The other Cavern Tip is to spring for the three bucks and take the self-guided audio tour. There were number signs along the trail and the little "wand" would whisper to you background on what you were seeing. The kids really got into this and would admonish me if I skipped a lesson. (Lesson one--which I certainly didn't know--was that what is now the caverns was at one time a gigantic coral reef on the edge of an inland sea).

    The other thing I finally learned is which is which as between stalactites and stalagmites. Stalactites hang down, so they have to hold on tight to the ceiling, while stalagmites stand up from the floor mighty and tall. Don't laugh--you didn't know either.


     This is the cave entrance--which was known from prehistoric times, but apparently wasn't entered until late in the 19th Century when a 16 year old cowboy named Jim White decided to see what was down in that forbidding hole. He was a brave kid; we got pretty nervous descending out of the sunlight even knowing it was a National Park. Have you ever thought about the fact that almost all human progress involves someone taking a big risk? Think about the first guy (or girl) to eat an artichoke.

I couldn't resist this one--millions of years of seeping water and imperceptible erosion to form a mens' room 750 feet beneath the surface of the earth.


Before leaving Carlsbad, a word is in order about Our National Parks. They're great--well maintained, impressive (all in different ways), and, most particularly, staffed by courteous, pleasant, and dedicated people. From Kitty Hawk to Fort Sumter to Big Bend to Carlsbad, we found really nice people who were passionate about "their" place and who made us feel welcome and valued as guests. People are always complaining about taxes, but whatever goes to these magnificent places is money well spent. But we still don't need one in northern Maine.




Just your run-of-the-mill roadside view entering New Mexico. One of the best things about the RV is the enormous windshield which make driving like sitting in the front row of an IMAX travel movie. We're now on our fourth IMAX, by the way; I've learned to just sit back and rest your head on the back of the seat and let it roll over you.
    OK, so we went to the International UFO Museum in Roswell. So what?

    Actually, it was pretty cool. In 1947, see, there was this crash in the desert about 40 miles from Roswell and the reports from the scene were of an alien spacecraft with bodies (four feet tall, no hair, large oval eyes). A local cowboy who was in the back of his pickup with a lady friend (no details on that) saw it and was the first on the scene. The Airforce soon got into the act (conveniently, there was an US Air Force base right in Roswell), sealed off the area, and belatedly issued a statement that it was simply an errant weather balloon.





The rest is history, and some pretty unclear history, at that. The museum is a non-profit entity (admission is, surprisingly, free) and tries hard to stay neutral. It's full of affidavits, contemporaneous newspaper and radio accounts, and bits and pieces of "evidence" about what happened that night more than fifty years ago. The argument now is more about whether there was an official cover-up than about what actually happened. Sounds familiar.



    One of the most interesting displays is a huge world map with colored lights for UFO sightings around the world. What jumps out at you is that the vast majority of the "encounters" (remember Close Encounters of the Third Kind ?) are in the US. Either the aliens like us or we're the most suggestible people on earth. Guess which gets my vote.




How many versions of this particular shot are in photo albums around the US?    


                                   








And here are Molly and her friends Kate and Grace Powers, with an exclusively Rosewell coke machine.



       






    Western wear store in downtown Roswell; so maybe they're a little carried away with this whole alien thing, but how else do you explain the Osbournes?









    Roswell's other museum is a wonderful combo--an art museum combined with an extensive exhibit on the life of rocketry pioneer Robert Goddard who did most of his life's work in New Mexico. Both Mary and I were struck by this painting of N.C. Wyeth by his daughter Henriette, who lived and painted in the Roswell area.



Sure looks Mannana Island in the background to me.


After the caverns and the UFOs, we drove west on one of the most interesting roads we've hit so far--New Mexico route 82 from Artesia, across the desert, up into the mountains, and down again to Alamogordo. And we saw our first snow since (remember) North Carolina. The road rose slowly over about 80 miles, then entered a beautiful series of mountain valleys that reminded us of Vermont or western Maine. Small farms were giving way to summer houses (it's 70 up here when it's 110 in the valley below) and ski condos. And then, around a bend came an amazing sight--an enormous desert valley with a huge patch of snow in the distance. Snow? In the desert? Well, this is what we saw--what would you think?

It's white, all right, but it ain't snow. It's sand made of gypsum with the consistency of talcum powder--the famous White Sands missile range and National Monument. What a sight, and fun place to play, as you can see.

Ben flies from the top of the dune, and Molly was next--

                                      

Then Ben decided to try his snowboard, while Molly tried out the saucer and made a sand angel.






A little slower than snow, but it still worked.


                                 


    And finally, we returned the next day on the way to Arizona with flying saucers (not the Roswell kind), but sitting down seemed pretty tame, so--




Don't try this at home; it took us two days to get the sand out of ears, hair and pockets.
After the sliding, Molly and I hitched up the car and we were again heading west. Forget about the Grand Canyon and Tucson; wait until you see Bisbee and one of the really great spots we've found so far, the Shady Dell RV Park.