It was a cold, moonless night when we left on our trip. Somewhere a dog barked. Oh, wait, it was a sunny day. But it was dark in Carlsbad Cavern. Because of Covid-19 people weren’t able to take the elevator down into the cavern but when I got our tickets I was offered to use the elevator because I look elderly, I guess. I should have taken them up on that offer. The decent was arduous, to say the least. It sort of put a damper on the tour of the cavern but we managed to tough it out. Back at our hotel in Carlsbad we recouped for a couple of hours before having dinner at Lucy’s Mexican Restaurant. We got there early and there was plenty of seating in spite of restrictions. The atmosphere was nothing special but the service and the food were good. Joyce had their fish tacos, which were unique. The fish was fried cod like one gets with fish and chips, and the sauce was tartar sauce along with lettuce and tomatoes.
We left Carlsbad for Guadalupe Mountain National Park early the next morning. Guadalupe Mountain NP is in Texas just south of the Texas/New Mexico border. We visited the Frijoles Ranch first. It is a late 19 century or early 20th century homestead. Except for a javelina, we were the only ones there. The Guadalupe Mountain escarpment towers over the ranch buildings and was impressive in the early morning sun. The ranch house was built close to a spring, one of several in the area, and a shed was built over the spring which flows at six gallons per minute according a sign nearby. The runoff is channeled past the house to a pond not far away, then on to who knows where. It must have been nice to have the running water so close at hand back in the day.
Our next stop was the NP visitor center. All we did there was stroll around the nature walk. There were trailheads nearby but, even if we had planned to do more extensive hiking, we were sore from the day before and the nature walk was more our speed. From the visitor center we headed back north, stopping at McKittrick Canyon, which is famous for fall color. We new it was too early for fall color when we planned the trip but at least wanted to see the area. The canyon is only approachable on foot so I set a timer on my phone for 30 minutes. Still fatigued from the previous day, I figured we would hike that long, then turn around so as not to require rescue. By that time it was hot and the trail was rocky. We failed to get to the canyon in the allotted time so maybe we’ll try again another time. Guadalupe Mountain NP doesn’t have roads other than short ones to the visitor center, Frijoles Ranch and McKittrick Canyon. The Mc Canyon road only goes to a visitor center, not to the canyon. The park is really for those hale and hearty enough to do some serious hiking, more so than other national parks we have visited.
We planned to spend the night in Ruidoso so we retraced our drive to GMNP and turned left at Artesia. The Permian Basin extends into Southeastern New Mexico and Carlsbad and Artesia benefit from the oil money sloshing around. Both seem to be thriving little towns. Roswell and Artesia both have extensive pecan orchards in the surrounding farms. I can’t remember the last time I went through Roswell. It may have been when I accompanied Genna when she went to San Diego to sell Ophelia’s house. Anyway, I noted the numerous pecan orchards around Roswell at the time and it seemed like there were more on this trip. I wonder how one starts a pecan orchard. Even if small pecan trees were planted, I think it would take 20 years before there would be enough pecans to harvest. On Hwy 287 north of Wichita Falls someone cleared the mesquite off a hillside and planted pecan trees maybe 30 years ago. I don’t think the trees are yet big enough to produce a crop. I’m sure there is a good deal more to it than I know, but, still, what a leap of faith.
When we turned west in Artesia we were on the road to Cloudcroft but first had to pass through some desolate country. It was just one small step up from a desert. Our plan was to follow scenic routes marked on the map as we worked our way north. The road through Cloudcroft was one and we had a nice drive through the mountains, eventually leaving them and descending into the Alamogordo area. We went that far west instead of driving north through the Mescalero Apache reservation so we could visit White Sands National Park. We got there in the late afternoon which showed the dunes off to good advantage. Other than a stroll into the dunes on a boardwalk, we just drove around. The dunes live up to their name and it was worth the side trip. It was dark well before we reached Ruidoso but we found our hotel and spent a restful night.
Thursday we continued following the scenic routes north past Albuquerque and Santa Fe. Highway 14 from I-40 north is called the Turquoise Trail because of all the artisans’ shops and hovels that border that road. Samples of their work were on display and it was evident that many of them involved some chemically-inspired creativity. We needed to leave the road we were on around Santa Fe and follow another farther north. We hoped that we would intersect that road without any problem but no such luck. The map wasn’t much help and we finally resorted to our iPhone. Although it seemed to be taking us the wrong direction, using it we were finally able to find the scenic route we were looking for.
This was a little-travelled (at least when we were on it) 2-laner that wound through some dry and desolate but geologically-interesting terrain. After about half an hour the road began to narrow as we approached a village to the point we were afraid it was going to peter out on us altogether. We didn’t want to have to double back because we wanted to visit La Chiripoda Winery and needed to get there during business hours. We made our way through the humble abodes without seeing a soul and, at times, seemed nearly to drive through driveways and yard. Just when it look as though we were going to have to backtrack the round began to widen and soon resumed the same configuration it had before the village. From there it clear sailing and we arrived at La Chiripada about 4:.30.
We first encountered La Chiripada Winery (“La Chiripada” means, “a stroke of luck” or “a lucky fluke”) in the early 80’s. Kari, Jill and I took a little trip to Taos and Santa Fe then. Joyce was a rookie cop and didn’t have any vacation time so it was just us girls. While driving around in the area we stumbled on the winery and have visited it several times since. Last year we stopped in on our way back from Yellowstone NP and I bought a bottle of one of their wines, the cheapest at $25 a bottle, and found it to be excellent when we drank it at some occasion I don’t recall. The winery didn’t look open when we got there, much to our disappointment, but I got out of the car anyway. I didn’t see anyone inside but the door wasn’t lock when I tried it and I poked my head in. There was a couple about at the same stage of life as Joyce and I visible in a backroom off the business area of the winery. When we told them we were there to buy a bottle of wine they accommodated us, so mission accomplished. We have bought their t-shirts in the past and were both wearing one for the occasion. Joyce wanted to find another one she liked to augment her collection but none of what they had suited her so we left with just the bottle of wine. Maybe I should have bought more but it’s hard for me to pay that much for a bottle of wine so we will enjoy the one we got and look forward buying another next time we’re in the area.
That evening in Taos we had a nice dinner at Orland’s Mexican Restaurant and left home before daylight the next morning. Again we followed a scenic route down through Tres Ritos and Mora. We took summer vacations in Tres Ritos when I was growing up and it was fun to see the huts we called chicken coops still there. They were by no means new when we stayed in them over 50 years ago. We enjoyed a decent middle-class upbringing, Kathryn and I, but, I swear, some of the places we stayed in when we went on vacation were at best minimal. There just weren’t the choices we have now, at least, not at any reasonable price.
We eventually left the scenic routes behind, merged onto I-40 and were home in a couple of hours. It was a pleasant trip and will hold us till the next one.