Saturday, 20 November 2021
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| today's route |
Once again, I was traipsing across a good part of the state. I'd intended to make as much of the trip as possible off the interstate, but halfway through I changed my mind.
I started with roads along Albuquerque's west side, which gave me a good view of the Sandia Mountains on ABQ's east side. I went through a constant series of towns, one after the other, almost none of which had signs identifying them. The only one I know for sure was Rio Rancho, elevation 5,290', slightly above Bernalillo. But without signs and without room on the AAA map to identify them, for all I know the entire stretch of 20 miles or so was all Rio Rancho.
Finally I started seeing farmland in the midst of housing developments, so I knew I was beginning to leave the city behind. And then finally, no development. Just farmland and scattered houses.
I saw a highway sign that said "End Patrol 4356 Maintenance." I've seen signs similar to this ever since I got to New Mexico and have never figured out what they mean. And looking it up online got me nothing. Is maintenance along that stretch of road done by patrol 4356? Who is patrol 4356 and why should the driving public care? And I don't remember ever seeing a sign that said "begin patrol ___ maintenance." They always just told me about the end. Yet again, I'll point out that NM highway signs leave a lot to be desired for the driving public.
By the time we got to Los Lunas, we'd been driving for a while and were ready for a break. But what we found was a major traffic accident at the busiest intersection in town. Police were only letting one lane go by, for some reason, even though it would have made much more sense to let all lanes take turns. So long lines of impatient drivers were held up by an officer who didn't seem to be able to process more than one idea at a time. Though to be fair, he may have been following orders. But Los Lunas has about 16,000 residents so I'd expect a competent police force. Oh well. We made it through eventually. But it complicated trying to find a park or a church or someplace to walk. I finally just kept going down the road.
Soon after that I saw a small truck on the road in front of me that couldn't seem to drive straight. The driver went for miles without being able to stay in the lane, and in fact drove for some distance mostly on the shoulder. It could have been a distracted driver, or maybe a drunk driver (though it wasn't noon yet), but regardless of the reason, I still didn't think being around him was safe and fell back a ways. He finally turned off the highway.
I came to Belen, elev. 4,800', "The Hub City," they call themselves. I'm not really sure why. It looked like a regular town of 7,000+ folks.
I passed a business called Black And White Dairy, Bosque Dairies. And nearby there were lots of black-and-white cows.
I passed the Walking Sands Rest Area and didn't stop though the name made me curious. But the internet isn't satisfying my curiosity. I know what walking sands are in general, and the internet says this rest area sits at the edge of the Sonoran Desert, which suggests sand. But other states with walking sand dunes celebrate them - Indiana's has been named a national park. NM lets its walking sands sit in comparative anonymity near a highway rest stop.
I passed a field with a couple dozen cows and 2 Longhorns.
Socorro
We stopped here at Socorro, partly because we needed the break and partly because I'd intended to stop here anyway. I'd heard on the radio that Socorro is the home of the New Mexico Institute of Mining and Technology, aka NM Tech. These are some of the folks doing the research on the connection between fracking and earthquakes and nuclear power.
The school has an attractive campus - I was surprised to find the buildings so modern since the school was established in 1889 - and since it was a Saturday we were able to stop on the campus and take a walk for a bit.
I also found a grocery store to pick up a few things for the next couple of nights at state parks. While I was waiting in line, I had time to watch the clerk trying to explain to the man ahead of me that he hadn't paid enough for his food. I couldn't tell if he was deaf or mentally slow or what, but he just kept gathering up his bags until finally she got through to him. But he didn't have any more money. And then a woman who'd been standing to one side opened her wallet and said she'd pay half of his bill - $22 of the $44 total. The grocery store clerk kicked in the odd amount of change still needed, and the man went on his way. None of these folks seemed to know each other. Just a random act of kindness. It gave me a good impression of the people of Socorro.
Back on the road
By the time we left, it was already 1:45 and we still had almost half the drive left to go. So I gave up the side roads for the interstate, just to be sure we'd get to the campground before dusk, since I drive so much slower than others.
I passed 2 national wildlife refuges: the Bosque del Apache and the Sevilletta. Considering their size and location (near deserts and lakes and forests), they're likely able to protect a wide variety of critters.
I passed the turn for Fort Craig National Historic Site. This fort was built in 1854 and was one of the largest forts built in the West. It's in ruins now.
The farther south I drove, the less traffic I saw, which made driving easier.
At Nogal Canyon, the road dipped sharply down and then sharply back up again. On the way down I saw one of those "Gusty Winds May Exist" signs. This time the highway department had put up 2 wind socks to prove it. And they showed that today was a day when gusty winds did indeed exist. I had to concentrate not to get blown off the road as I drove down into that canyon.
A short way farther along the road, I came to La Canada Alamosa, another canyon with another gusty winds sign and more wind socks and more gusty winds. That seemed an odd name - Canada, after all - so I looked it up. The internet says this name is an Anglicized version of Cañada Alamosa, meaning valley of the cottonwoods.
And I finally came to the town of Elephant Butte, "Let the Fun Begin!". Apparently this little town of 1,348 is putting all its money on the recreation opportunities of Elephant Butte Lake and its state park. It seems to be one of the most popular recreation areas in the state. The reservoir was created from the Rio Grande, is 40 miles long and the largest in the state by surface area. It's also the only place in NM where pelicans can be found, per Wikipedia.
It was an attractive area, by desert standards (no lush stands of trees, for instance), and obviously popular. The campground was in good shape with lots of volunteer camp hosts. But I was surprised that they didn't have a map of the campground. The office was closed when I got there, and all of the hosts seemed surprised that I'd even want a map. This despite the fact that there were 3 separate camping areas, and the one I was in had sections labeled Loop A, Loop B and Loop C, none of which were loops but instead all were straight lanes that met at the end. No signs said how to get to the lake, or back to the exit for that matter. Strange place. But a great view from the top of the butte (I guess that's where we were).
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