Tag Archives: New Mexico

Dec21

Death Don’t Have No Mercy

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Alejandro was a good guy who drank himself to death before he turned 40. He died last week, one more to go in 2016.

His dad is an alcoholic too. He started his son down the path by giving Alejandro beer while he was still in elementary school. From then on, Alejandro was his dad’s drinking buddy, even when the alcohol was adversely affecting the younger man’s health.

Confronting Alejandro’s drinking would have required confronting his own alcohol abuse, so his father insisted there was no problem. There were problems, all right. In the last couple of years, Alejandro often shit blood for weeks on end. And there was the time a drunken Alejandro pulled a gun on a guy who’d pissed him off. Anyone who could admit the truth knew alcohol was going to kill Alejandro one way or another.

In the last months of his life, as his health declined, Alejandro refused to go to rehab. His aunt told me she made arrangements for him at two separate residential facilities, but he wouldn’t check in to either. I wonder what sort of demons he lived with that made him decide to drink himself to death.

Alejandro was a talented lapidarist who shaped and polished stones to sell to tourists and other vendors alike. His work was good, and jewelry makers valued the cabochons he produced.

When selling at the Bridge, Alejandro kept his rough stones in a pan of water so potential customers could see how they’d look after they were polished. He cracked me up one hot summer day, when, in response to a man asking why the rocks were in water, he said, absolutely serious, it keeps them wetter. He was a smartass, but he was good at telling jokes, knew how to keep a straight face, knew the proper rhythm to use to make the punchline pop.

He had two preteen daughters who loved him fiercely. He loved them too, even when he wasn’t getting along with their mother. The girls did their childish best to look after him. I can only imagine how those girls are going to miss him as they grow, the pain they’ll feel when he’s not around for the milestones in their lives.

Alejandro’s death is such a waste. He didn’t have to die. I know it’s more complicated than just stop drinking, but people manage to do it. I think Alejandro could have done it too. I think he could have gotten sober, under different circumstances. I think he could have lived to a ripe old age, seen his little girls grow up, shaped and polished a lot of stones, told a lot more jokes. It wasn’t too late until it was.

I wasn’t close to Alejandro, but he was part of my community. I cared about him. I worried about him. I was a friend to his young daughters and their mother too. I hated what was happening to him. I was sad when I found out he was gone from this world.

I hope for Alejandro–as I hope for everyone who dies–that he no longer knows pain, physical or mental. I hope he is at peace.

He will be missed.

Oct10

Knock in the Night

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I’ve been living and traveling alone in my van since the Fall of 2012. I’ve been through at least ten states and have stayed in cities and on public land. On only two occasions has anyone bothered me while I was sleeping. Once it was a cop harassing me and the other time–well, I’m still not entirely sure what that was all about.

I was staying at a free National Forest campground in Northern New Mexico. I’d stayed there before. It was basically primitive camping, but there were a couple of pit toilets there. I liked the place, mostly because there was no charge to stay, but also because it was next to a river, lots of tall trees grew there, and the temperature was cool.

I arrived late in the afternoon of the night in question. I’d been selling jewelry and shiny rocks all day. I was tired. I wanted to eat dinner, then crawl into my bed with a book, probably go to sleep early. I was scheduled to sell jewelry and shiny rocks the next day, so I planned to get moving early.

When I’d pulled into the campground, I’d found the most desirable spots close to the pit toilets had been claimed. I looked around until I found a spot to park the van farther out. There was a tent pitched in the general area, but I gave it plenty of space.

I went about my business of cooking and eating dinner. While I was outside, I saw at least one large dog and several young men around the other tent. A small pickup truck arrived, then left. I kept to myself, didn’t try to make conversation, but I noticed it wasn’t a family camping over there. I saw no children, no mother figure, just guys.

When the sky darkened, I got in the van, locked the doors, and closed the curtains. I read my book, then turned out my light. The night was going according to plan.

Suddenly I was jolted awake by knocking on the van’s exterior. It took me a moment to figure out where I was and what was happening. I’m in my van, I remembered. I’m parked next to the river.

The knocking came again.

Who is it? I yelled. Even to my own ears, my voice sounded grumpy and gruff.

The side windows were open to let in the cool night air, so apparently my voice was audible. I didn’t even move a curtain to peek outside, much less open the door.

A male voice outside the van identified itself as one of the neighbor campers. If their vehicle needed a jump start in the morning, would I help them out?

What the fuck? I was thinking. Who knocks on a stranger’s dark van in the middle of the night to ask for a jump start if the situation is not a full-blown emergency? Apparently this guy.

Sure, I told the guy, if you need a jump in the morning, I’ll help you out if I’m around.

I knew good and well that I planned to be out of there early. I’d likely be gone before the sun was up.

The guy seemed to wander away (I wasn’t trying to peep out the windows), but now I was wide awake. (If you’ve ever felt the burst of adrenaline that comes with waking from a deep sleep to the tune of someone knocking on your van, you know it’s not easy to drift off after.) I started wondering what was really going on. Why had the guy really knocked? He must have suspected I was asleep since it was the middle of the night (around 2am when I switched on my light to look at my watch), and there hadn’t been a single light on in the van.

As I lay there wondering if I were safe, wondering if the man would come back, I tried to remember the vehicle situation at the nearby camp. I didn’t remember seeing a vehicle parked near the tent when I arrived. I did remember the small pickup  pulling in, but I was mostly sure it had left. I hadn’t heard another vehicle arrive after dark, but I could have conceivably slept through a car or small truck’s arrival. Could I have slept through the noise of someone discovering a dead battery, discussing the situation with others? Maybe. But I was almost certain the man had asked for my help if the battery were dead. Did he not even know the status of the battery when he asked for my help?

I finally slept again for a few hours more. I woke early, but didn’t get out of the van. When I looked out of the windows, no one seemed to be moving on the other campsite. As I maneuvered my van out of my spot, the van’s engine noise awakened the large dog who barked and barked and barked. I felt satisfaction that perhaps the dogs’ barking would awaken the guy who’d disturbed my slumber.

As I left the camping area, I looked around for a vehicle that belonged to the nearby campsite. I didn’t see any vehicles–not a car, not a truck, not a motorcycle or even a bike. Did a vehicle start and leave sometime after the man knocked on my van? Maybe. But I doubt I would have slept through any noise after the knocking interrupted my sleep and shot adrenaline through my body.

I’ve often wondered what was really going on that night. I don’t think those guys had a vehicle at all, much less one that maybe had a dead battery. As I said before, barring a complete emergency, good manners and common sense dictate that one does not knock on a stranger’s dark van in the middle of the night.

I think the man just wanted to know what I would do if he knocked on my van in the wee hours. Maybe he’d acted alone. Maybe the other man had dared him to knock. Maybe they were drunk. Maybe he was hoping I’d open the door or step of the van so he could what? Rob me? Rape me? Did he just want to know if I’d agree to help? Did the men not want a camping neighbor and were hoping to scare me off?

I suppose I’ll never know what the intentions were that night, but I’m glad there was nothing scarier that night than a knock in the dark.

I took this photo. It is not the river I slept next to the night of this incident, but you get the idea.

I took this photo. It is not the river I slept next to the night of this incident, but you get the idea.

Sep16

Picnic Pavilion

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When I was homeless, I lived in a picnic pavilion at a rest stop for two months. By lived in, I really mean slept in. The rest area attendant arrived at 8am, so I left well before he started work. I usually woke with the first light of the sun, rolled up my sleeping bag, put on my shoes, and walked out on a nearby trail. The trail went past a tree, all alone in the high desert. I usually stopped at the tree, rolled out my sleeping bag on the ground under its branches, took off my shoes again, and stretched out to nap for another couple of hours.

Not only did I not want the rest area attendant to find me, accuse me of living there, and call the cops, I didn’t want any civilian bystander to call the cops on me either. Best to not have anyone see me in the rest area during the day, which is why I left as soon as I had enough light to see the path.

I suppose I could have spent my nights under the tree, but I was afraid I’d encounter a rattlesnake or an unsavory human out there. I felt safer in the civilization of the rest area, with its lights and flush toilets. In retrospect, I don’t know how much safer I was in the rest area Babylon.

The rest area attendant got off work at 5pm. Sometime after that, I’d go to my “apartment,” the picnic pavilion which opened toward the natural attraction tourists came to see. The other pavilions opened toward the roadway running through the rest area. Anyone sleeping on the concrete floor of one of those pavilions would be easily spotted by cars driving through at night. Because my pavilion didn’t open toward the roadway, I could sleep between its low stone back wall and the back bench of the concrete picnic table, and no one driving through would see me.

affection, art, backlitThe rest area was open all night. People could go there to look at the natural attraction 24 hours a day, any day of the week. It wasn’t unusual for people to sleep there in their cars. Others pulled in to use the restrooms in the middle of the night. Sometimes people partied there, drinking alcohol and taking who-knows-what drugs. And I’m pretty sure couples came there to “smooch” (my euphemism for anything from making out to oral to full-on intercourse).

Lovers were attracted to “my” pavilion for the same reason I was: it offered just a little bit more privacy.

I never rolled out my sleeping bag before dark. I didn’t want to be spotted sleeping (translation: living) there. I’d read a borrowed book or a newspaper fished from a trashcan and wait for darkness to descend. Often, I’d simply look out at the spectacular view. Once it was adequately dark, I’d roll out my sleeping bag, position my backpack on the ground within arm’s reach, take off my shoes, and snuggle down for sleep. Once I lay down, I didn’t pop my head up to see what was going on, for fear someone would notice me and wonder what I was doing on the ground behind the picnic table.

I don’t know how late it was the first time a couple invaded my space. It was dark during a time when days were long, so it had to be after 9pm. I had been on the brink of sleep when the people sat on the picnic table. Of course, they didn’t know they’d invaded my space. I was so discreet, they hadn’t even realized I was there.

I didn’t know what to do. I’d heard from several single sign-flying and hitchhiking women that sometimes people worry about women in such situations and call the cops to do a welfare check. I didn’t want these people to call the cops because they were worried about me. I wasn’t running from the law, but I didn’t want to be hassled by the police, didn’t want to be told I couldn’t sleep at the rest area any longer or that I needed to move on out of town. Better not to interact with the cops at all.

I knew the longer I waited to say something to the couple, the more awkward it was going to be when they discovered me. (I never doubted one of them would notice me eventually.) I suppose I could have pretended to be asleep, but what if they started making noise impossible to sleep through? Then I’d have to “wake up,” and what if they had their clothes off?

So I sat up and said something like Hi. I’m just sleeping here. (I don’t remember my actual words, but I was trying to convey I’m harmless. I’m fine. I was here first.)

The woman screamed. It was a loud, piercing, blood-curdling scream. So much for discretion.

I started apologizing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.

Then one of my worries came true. The woman started asking me if I was ok. Are you ok? she kept asking me.

I tried to assure her I was fine. I told her I was just sleeping. I told her everything was good.

Are you ok? Are you ok? she asked again and again.

I wanted to say, I was ok, before you woke me up. I was ok before you screamed. Instead I just assured her I was currently fine.

Finally they left. I don’t know where they went to have sex (maybe the car they’d arrived in?), but the cops didn’t bother me that night, so I guess I’d convinced them they didn’t need to worry about me.

The next time a couple tried to use my picnic pavilion for their shenanigans, it was truly the middle of the night, and at least the guy seemed drunk. When I sat up and told them I was sleeping there, neither of them seemed worried about me or upset in any way or even vaguely surprised. These people had obviously seen a lot in their lives.

I could tell they didn’t want to leave, but they also respected the fact that I’d gotten there first. So they left, but they didn’t go far. They simply walked out of the picnic pavilion and sat down on the ground right next its wall. I could hear every word they said! (If only I could remember their every word. If only I had taken notes.)

The woman (who seemed significantly younger than the man) talked and talked and talked, mostly about her unhappy life. (It’s just as well that I don’t remember the details. She probably wouldn’t want me to repeat her stories, although I wouldn’t feel too bad about doing so, since she knew I was right there the whole time.)

The man? Well, what he said (in drunken repetition) to the woman boiled down to this: I want to be your friend. But I also–if you would like–want to make love to you.

She didn’t fall for his line while within my hearing. Maybe she was hoping her litany of woes would cool his ardor. Maybe she simply needed someone to listen.

As for me, I was wishing I couldn’t hear them. I really just wanted to go to sleep, not listen to an unhappy woman and a horny man.

I thought about calling out, I can hear you!

I thought about calling out, Shut the fuck up! I’m trying to sleep!

In the end, I said nothing. I didn’t want an altercation, especially with someone who was drunk. I only wanted to sleep. I comforted myself with the knowledge that I could sleep for a few more hours under my tree in the morning.

Photo courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/affection-art-backlit-couple-556662/.
Jun4

Pregnant Lady

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Mr. Carolina, Lil C, the Okie, and I were traveling on I-40, trying to get Lil C home to Kansas City in time for his mamma’s birthday. Crossing into New Mexico felt like a homecoming to me, even though I wouldn’t see my friends in Taos for several months.

We pulled into Gallup needing gas for the van. We started our money-making endeavors at a gas station. While we were there, we talked to some other travelers. They were from Oklahoma I think, and they gave us a handful of change. The boys took turns sitting with me on the brick planter near the doors to the convenience store; we held our cardboard sign saying we were going home and out of gas.

The going home part was true for half of us. Lil C was going home to his mamma, and now that we were on the 40, Mr. Carolina was heading to his family for the holidays. The Okie didn’t seem to have anywhere particular in mind, and my plans were nebulous at best. But some of us were going home, so the sign was true. As for the out of gas part, if we weren’t currently totally out of gas, we would be soon.

So we held our sign, and kind people blessed us with some dollars, until the manager told us we had to leave. That’s typically how it happened, so we weren’t surprised or upset. We decided to try our luck at Wal-Mart and headed that way.

Pregnant PhotoshootAt the shopping center housing the Wal-Mart, I found the most promising exit and positioned myself there. It was a weekend afternoon, so there was a lot of traffic. I’d been standing there a while and had made some money for our cause when an obviously pregnant woman with two little kids in tow approached me.  She was upbeat and friendly and told me she was the girlfriend of one of the travelers we’d met at the gas station. (The boyfriend had described us to her, I guess.) She wondered how much longer I planned to stand there at the Wal-Mart because she was hoping to get a chance to stand there with her sign and try to bring in some funds for her family. I allowed I’d be willing to give up the spot at two o’clock, which was about 40 minutes away. She said she and the kids would hang around until then.

Are you on your way home to Oklahoma? I asked her.

Honey, she replied, I’m nine months pregnant and four centimeters dilated. I ain’t going nowhere!

I was impressed. Nine months pregnant is one thing, but four centimeters dilated is serious.

I stood there with my sign for a while more, but my heart wasn’t in it. If that pregnant woman was four centimeters dilated and ready to stand outside Wal-Mart flying a sign, she must really, really need the money. I’d gotten some dollars, enough to get some gas in the van and get us down the road, probably enough to get me and the boys each a hamburger for dinner too. I was ready to go.

When Mr. Carolina came to check on me, I told him about the pregnant woman, told him I was ready to relinquish my spot to her.

As we drove away from Wal-Mart, we saw the pregnant woman and the two little kids standing at the exit. The woman was holding a big sign that said family in need She held the sign in such a way that her pregnantness clearly showed. The little kids jumped up and down and waved at each passing car.

Personally, if I had kids, I’d be nervous to have them with me while flying a sign admitting I wasn’t able to provide for them. I’d be afraid CPS might come along and ask questions. But maybe CPS in New Mexico is too busy for such inquiries.

In any case, what they were doing seemed to be working for them, and I hope they’re all ok, wherever they are now.

Photo courtesy of https://www.pexels.com/photo/pregnant-photoshoot-161485/.

Mar23

If the World Ends Right Now…

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The other day, a long-time friend of mine, an author, updated her Facebook status to read,

Googled “if the world ends right now, I hope I die in your ample bosom,” looking for plagiarism in a second-hand memory.

Her second-hand memory sparked the smallest of recollections in my brain, but I didn’t exactly know what she was talking about until she followed up with

Blaize Sun, this is one of my favorite lines from a story I didn’t witness. It runs through my head sometimes, and it just struck me that maybe it was from a book. I don’t think so!

At that point I remembered I was privy to that “ample bosom” quote. I wrote

No! It was NOT from a book. It was from a state park camp-out in Texas in 2000. It was not my ample bosom in question. I was sleeping on a picnic table (dumb idea!) and the owner of the ample bosom and the admirer of the ample bosom were sleeping nearby. Can’t remember if they were in a tent and just loud or if they were camped out sans tent on the base of the picnic table. I don’t know if that was the exact quote but definitely the general sentiment.

What’s really funny to me is that while I witnessed the event (at least in an auditory fashion), I only think about this when you–and  I think Lou–mention it.

I will not name names in this public fashion since I never know who’s a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend and might see this. But I attest to the fact it that it really happened.

My friend the writer came back with

I remember that it was from one xxxxx, but I wondered if he’d read it or come up with it on the spot, bc [because]  that is some quick, brilliant thinking!

It is such a funny story. I think of it all the time. I’m glad I wasn’t there to witness first-hand, bc [because] I think your retelling definitely enhances it!

At that point Lou sent me a personal message that started like this:

Wait…who said what?!? Why is my memory fuzzy on this?

And I answered,

Oh, I thought you remembered this story. It must just be [our mutual friend] who remembers.

Lou said,

I remember the quote but not the who, what, when, where, why.

I asked,

Remember that trip to New Mexico I went on with AmeriCorps in 2000? The one [your boss] (boo! hiss!) wouldn’t let you go on?
Then Lou said,
Oh!! Now I remember more. It makes sense because I wasn’t there.

I was in AmeriCorps in 2000, and I got to go on a trip to New Mexico to break trail in the Gila National Forest. Half of the folks on the trip were part of an AmeriCorps program that mostly did trail building and maintenance, but a few folks from the (related) program I was in went on the trip too. One of the other people from my program who was allowed to go on the trip was a guy named Dee.

The non-AmeriCorps folks on the trip were part of a group I referred to as the

mostly old people who worked on trails.

While I was the oldest person in my AmeriCorps program (seven years older than my boss), the people in the trail group were even older than I was. Some of them were downright elderly, as in, in their 70s. But these elderly people were active and fit and proved to be as hardworking as any of the 20-somethings on the trip. Also, the older people had money. They provided the vans we rode in and the gas to power them, as well as all of the food we ate.

There was a woman in that group I’ll call Sally (to protect her identity and because I no longer have the faintest idea of what her name actually was). Although Sally was older than my 29 years, she was the absolute baby of the mostly old people group. I think she was about 36 and pretty, with long dark hair. As the only people on the trip in our age group, Sally and I became buddies for the duration. I would soon find out that I was not the only one who had grown to enjoy Sally’s…er…company.

I don’t know if Sally and Dee had hooked up while we were camping in the Gila National Forest. I don’t know if they had been sitting together, making eyes at each other on the van ride back to Texas. What I do know is that on our last night away from home, we camped at a state park.

At that point, I was tired of setting up my tent at night and breaking it down in the morning, so I decided to sleep on top of a picnic table. All I can say is that it seemed like a good idea at the time…I spent the night tossing and turning on the hard surface, trying not to fall off. To make matters worse, Sally and Dee had parked their budding romance just a little too close to me.

I can’t remember now if they were in a nearby tent or on the ground at the edge of the picnic table. (Lou says,

Probably in a tent. I feel like I’ve had that problem before when inside a tent you forget that your tent doesn’t have real walls and everyone can hear you. It feels so enclosed and private!)

In any case, I heard every breathless word they spoke to each other, and at some point Dee dropped the cringe-worthy line my writer friend has remembered all these years:

if the world ends right now, I hope I die in your ample bosom

or at least words of boob appreciation along those lines. And well, yeah, I repeated his words way back then, and I seem to be repeating them again today.

 Many thanks to Kel for this memory and to Kel and Lou for their words which are included in this story.

 

Mar8

More Love Locks

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These love locks hang on a heart sculpture on North Fourth Avenue in Tucson, AZ.

These love locks hang on a heart sculpture on North Fourth Avenue in Tucson, AZ.

In a previous post (http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/2016/03/07/love-locks/), I wrote about love locks I’ve seen in a couple of locations in California; at the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in Taos County, NM; and on North Fourth Avenue in Tucson, AZ. In this post I want to share more of the photos I took of love locks in various locations.

This lock was at South Creek Falls in California.

This love lock was at South Creek Falls in California.

Most of the locks I saw at South Creek Falls were rather plain and didn’t excited me enough to take a photo. (It was also a cloudy day, so the light was uninspiring.) The only lock that caught my eye was one with an allover coat of pink paint and bright blue the writing.

Helping Hand

This love lock was on the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in the fall of 2015.

When I walked across the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge–for the first time in over a year–in the fall of 2015 , I saw more love locks than I had ever seen before. I guess love locks are a thing now. I wonder if the NMDOT (New Mexico Department of Transportation, the government organization which maintains the Gorge Bridge) comes along periodically and removes the locks.

Possibilities

This love lock, seen on the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in the fall of 2015, is unusual because it has no names on it.

Anita Loves Nolan Nolan Loves AnitaThis lock (seen at the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in the fall of 2015 ) is so sweet. I hope Nolan and Anita love each other forever.

These love locks were attached to a heart sculpture on North Fourth Avenue in Tucson, AZ. The old-school locks made me really happy.

These love locks were attached to a heart sculpture on North Fourth Avenue in Tucson, AZ. The old-school locks made me really happy.

IMG_4218

A twenty year anniversary love lock seen in Tucson, AZ.

IMG_4207

More love locks seen on North Fourth Avenue in Tucson, AZ.

I saw so many love locks on the heart sculptures in Tucson! I took a lot of photos of love locks there. It’s difficult to pick out just a few photos to share.

Where have you seen love locks? Please leave a comment telling about your love locks sightings. Have you and your sweetie ever left a love lock somewhere? When? Where? Why? Please share those stories too.

I think it's a little weird to use a "Master" lock for anything other than a BDSM relationship where there really is a master involved, but I do like the sentiment of "a love that will last for always." This love lock was also seen in Tucson.

I think it’s a little weird to use a “Master” lock for anything other than a BDSM relationship where there really is a master involved, but I do like the sentiment of “a love that will last for always.” Heck, for all I know, this love lock represents a loving master/slave relationship which will last for always. It’s none of my business what consenting adults do behind closed doors. In any case, this love lock was seen on North Fourth Avenue in Tucson.

All photos in this post were taken by me.

Mar7

Love Locks

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Double Heart Lock

I saw this love lock on the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in the fall of 2015.

I think I must have first become aware of love locks when walking across the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in Taos, County, NM some time between 2012 and 2014. I saw a padlock affixed to the bridge’s railing, but I can’t remember if someone explained the lock was there to symbolize everlasting love, or if I figured it out on my own. Later, I heard all about love locks on the 81st episode of the Betty in the Sky with a Suitcase podcast (http://betty.libsyn.com/81st-show-lovelocks); that episode is called “Lovelocks.”

I Love You

This love lock was also on the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in the fall of 2015. I love the detail on this lock, which was obviously not picked up at a hardware store on a whim.

According to https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Love_lock,

A love lock or love padlock is a padlock which sweethearts lock to a bridge, fence, gate, or similar public fixture to symbolize their love.[1] Typically the sweethearts’ names or initials are inscribed on the padlock, and its key is thrown away to symbolize unbreakable love. Since the 2000s, love locks have proliferated at an increasing number of locations worldwide. They are now mostly treated by municipal authorities as litter or vandalism, and there is some cost to their removal. However, there are authorities who embrace them, and who use them as fundraising projects or tourism attractions.

The history of love padlocks dates back at least 100 years to a melancholic Serbian tale of World War I, with an attribution for the bridge Most Ljubavi (lit. the Bridge of Love) in spa town of Vrnjačka Banja.[2] A local schoolmistress named Nada, who was from Vrnjačka Banja, fell in love with a Serbian officer named Relja. After they committed to each other Relja went to war in Greece where he fell in love with a local woman from Corfu. As a consequence, Relja and Nada broke off their engagement. Nada never recovered from that devastating blow, and after some time she died due to heartbreak from her unfortunate love. As young women from Vrnjačka Banja wanted to protect their own loves, they started writing down their names, with the names of their loved ones, on padlocks and affixing them to the railings of the bridge where Nada and Relja used to meet.[3][4]

Lock Trio

I think this is the only trio of locks I’ve ever seen. These were also on the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in the fall of 2015.

In the rest of Europe, love padlocks started appearing in the early 2000s.[5] The reasons love padlocks started to appear vary between locations and in many instances are unclear. However, in Rome, the ritual of affixing love padlocks to the bridge Ponte Milvio can be attributed to the 2006 book I Want You by Italian author Federico Moccia, who made a film adaptation in 2007.[6][7]

Tule River 2The next times I saw love locks was during my adventure on the Tule River in California. (You can read about that adventure here: http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/2015/05/22/steps-to-the-kern/.) As I walked down the steps to the river, I saw a lock left by Ash & Kate.

South Creek Falls Fence

Many love locks were left on the barrier fence at South Creek Falls.

A few weeks after that, I saw more love locks at South Creek Falls. (Read more about South Creek Falls here: http://www.rubbertrampartist.com/?s=south+creek+falls.) Quite a few people had left locks on the barrier fence.

Yellow Lock

This yellow combination lock was one of the love locks I saw fastened to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in the fall of 2015.

When I returned to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge in the fall, I found many people had affixed love locks to the bridge’s railing.

During a brief visit to Tucson, AZ in late 2015, I spent an hour or so one afternoon wandering around the hip little North Fourth Avenue shopping area. I was excited to see several metal heart sculptures made for people to fasten on their love locks.

A brief announcement from February 2015 on the Arizona Daily Star’s tucson.com (http://tucson.com/put-a-lock-on-it/article_b40d5fb6-b244-11e4-9f1c-5724f278e6a8.html) says,

IMG_4216

This is one of the heart sculptures made for love locks on Tucson’s North Fourth Avenue.

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Here’s another heart sculpture made for love locks on Tucson’s North Fourth Avenue. There are four or five of these hears on North Fourth Avenue.

North Fourth Avenue is going all out for Valentine’s Day — big sales, live music, and all sorts of hustle and bustle. And get this: there will a number of heart sculptures along the avenue. Bring a padlock inscribed with your names, attach it to a sculpture, and lock in your love by throwing away the key…When a sculpture becomes full it will become a display in Haggerty Plaza.

Tomorrow I will share more photos of love locks that I took in California, New Mexico, and Arizona.

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I took all photos in this post.

Feb25

The John Dunn Bridge and Blackrock Hot Spring

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SDC10006The John Dunn Bridge is located in Arroyo Hondo, Taos County, New Mexico.

According to Wikipedia, The John Dunn Bridge

crosses the Rio Grande near the confluence of the Rio Hondo.

[It] is located about three miles west of Arroyo Hondo on a gravel road that parallels Rio Hondo.[1] The road, off of NM 522, runs through Bureau of Land Management property, [and] is known as John Dunn Bridge Road and County Road B-007.

Black Rock Hot Springs are located off of a dirt road on the western side of the Rio Grande after crossing the bridge.[10]

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This is a view of the Rio Grande flowing through the Rio Grande Gorge, taken from the trail to Blackrock Hot Spring.

According to http://www.gorp.com/parks-guide/blackrock-hot-springs-outdoor-pp2-guide-cid402419.html,

Few of northern New Mexico’s bounty of hot springs have escaped the hands of developers and remain in a primitive condition. Blackrock Hot Spring has two characteristics that kept it from development: It has low flow, and it is located on the west bank of the rugged Rio Grande Gorge.

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View of the Rio Grande and the eastern gorge wall, taken from Blackrock Hot Spring.

Far from isolated today, Blackrock Hot Spring is New Mexico’s most accessible primitive mineral spring. From the parking area at the hairpin turn above Dunn’s bridge, a well-developed trail dives from the road and heads downstream. The trail descends quickly to the river, reaching the spring in less than a quarter-mile.

The pool is small, and the volume of hot water is low. The mineral water issues from the base of the thick pile of black lava in a narrow drainage in the wall of the gorge. Boulders that have tumbled down the watercourse have completely covered the spot where the water bubbles up from the surface.

I’ve visited the John Dunn Bridge and Blackrock Hot Spring many times. In fact, Blackrock Hot Spring was the first natural hot spring I ever soaked in.

In the summer, visitors and locals alike enjoy swimming or floating in inner tubes in the Rio Grande just below the John Dunn Bridge. Blackrock Hot Spring is popular for soaking year round.

There are actually two pools at Blackrock Hot Spring, one warmer than the other. The cooler one is right next to the Rio Grande, and I’ve seen strong swimmers jump right into the river for a quick cool-down. The less adventuress can achieve a similar effect at a slower rate by taking a dip in the cool pool.

There’s no closing time on the hot spring pools, and although folks are not supposed to stay overnight in the small parking area, I’ve done it with friends a time or two. Because I prefer to soak in the hot water when the air is cool, my favorite time to utilize the pools–especially in the summer–is around 2am. It’s usually (although not always) empty then, and other middle-of-the-night soakers (if they’re not drunk partiers), tend to be quiet and respectful of the sacredness of the spring. A friend and I once sat in the hot water with no one else around and watched a meteor shower. That was a sweet night.

Blackrock is one of my favorite undeveloped soaking spots. Clothing is optional as far as the hippies who soak there are concerned, and I’ve never heard of a ranger hassling anyone for being naked there. The water is full of lithium (so the locals say), and it’s not only relaxing, but mood-lifting as well. The view is fantastic, and if there are no stupid rich people around talking about their real estate investments, it’s a wonderful place to rest and rejuvenate.

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View of the John Dunn Bridge from the trail to Blackrock Hot Spring.

To find out about other places where you can soak in hot mineral water, check out the article “11 Hot Springs in New Mexico You Need to Visit” on the All The Rooms blog.

 I took all the photos in this post.
Feb15

The Thrift Stores of T or C

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To close out this series on Truth or Consequences, NM, I will share my thoughts on the thrift stores in the commumity.

I know of five thrift stores in T or C, which is an impressive number, considering there are only 6,246 people in the town (as of 2013, according to https://www.google.com/search?q=population+truth+or+consequences&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8) and only 11,572 in all of Sierra County (as of 2013, according to https://www.google.com/search?q=population+sierra+county+nm&ie=utf-8&oe=utf-8).

From my first day in T or C, I’d seen the sign outside the Catholic church (Our Lady of Perpetual Help) on Date Street, the sign that said the thrift shop was open 10am to 2pm on Wednesdays and Saturdays. The problem was I couldn’t find the thrift shop. I walked around the group of church buildings in the vicinity of 515 N Date Street, but found no shop opened at the appointed hours. Finally, on my fourth visit to the town, during a Wednesday coffee klatch, I thought to ask Coyote Sue (another thrift store aficionado) about the location of the shop. It was on the same block as the church, she told me, but on Cedar Street instead of Date. IMG_4104

The mention of the Catholic thrift shop got the other coffee klatch ladies talking. It was too crowded, too cluttered, the other ladies said. Coyote Sue, however, said she’d had luck buying old-school religious figurines there, then selling them for a profit on Ebay. I was excited to see it for myself, now that I knew where to find it.

I tried at least twice to shop at the Catholic thrift store before I left town. The first time I went there, on the Saturday after learning its location, there was a funeral being held at the church, and a huge black funeral ribbon on the door of the store. The door was locked despite the sign in the window reading “open,” and there was no shopping for Catholic castoffs that day.   IMG_4102

I swung by the following Wednesday, and the “Sorry We’re CLOSED” sign was in the window. Unfortunately, all I can offer is the information that the store is on the 500 block of Cedar Street.

My least favorite of the T or C thrift stores I’ve shopped in is the Paws & Claws Thrift Shoppe at 109 East First Avenue (adjacent to the Family Dollar parking lot). I feel bad about not liking the Paws and Claws because, according to the store’s website (http://www.deserthavenanimalrefuge.com/paws__claws_thrift_shoppe),

Paws & Claws Thrift Shoppe is, by far, the most important fund-raiser for the Sierra County Humane Society. It covers a major part of Desert Haven Animal Refuge’s operating expenses. The organization would not survive as it is today without the monthly income from the shop.

IMG_4121Why don’t I like shopping at the Paws & Claws? Let me count the ways.

The merchandise is overpriced. On the rare occasion I find a piece of clothing I like which  might fit me, it’s typically priced at $4 to $6. I know for a lot of people that’s a good deal, but I don’t usually pay more than $1 for a piece of thrift store clothing. I currently have way too much clothing in a wardrobe stocked with items that only cost me a dollar.

The Paws & Claws never has sales. It’s never green-tag day or half-off day. There’s just no way to get a bargain. I see the same things in the store every time I browse there. Ladies in the coffee klatch said they’d been seeing the same items in the store for five years. In my opinion, these items are sitting around because they are overpriced to begin with and then never marked down.

Add in rumors of an unpleasant and difficult manager and moldy books for sale, and I have little desire to walk through the front door.

I don’t have much experience with the All That & More Thrift Store. IMG_4105I’ve only been in the shop a couple of times, but the last time I went in, I found what I was looking for (plastic drawers for van organization). All That & More is one of those unusual thrift stores that isn’t full of old clothes so ugly I wonder who wore them new. The store is small, but neat and clean, and the prices are reasonable. The store is located on 4th Street, a block or two off Date and not far from the library and convention center.

The SJOA (Sierra Joint Office on Aging) thrift store in the senior center complex at 360 W. 4th Street is one of my favorites.  IMG_4113The store is small, but the ladies who run it know they need to move merchandise, so the prices are great. Most items of clothing cost 50 cents or a dollar. I’ve gotten small balls of yarn for a quarter. There’s usually a small selection of free magazines outside the entrance door.

The final thrift store in T or C is also the biggest. The CHF (Community Health Foundation) thrift store is located at 421 N Broadway Street. IMG_4118

Prices are great at the CHF. I’ve bought clothing (skirts, a jacket, purple shower shoes) there for only $1 each. The women who work the cash register always give me great deals on yarn. Paperback books are three for a dollar. Kids clothes are particularly inexpensive, and there’s a table full of free odds and ends (some, admittedly, more desirable than others) outside the front door.

In addition to cool merchandise and good prices, the CHF Thrift Store is one of the places to see and be seen in T or C. My friendship with Coyote Sue was forged in the CHF store’s old location, and if we’re both in town, we’re likely to run into each other in the CHF’s aisles.

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This photo shows the entrance to the CHF Thrift Store. The free table can be seen in the far right of the picture.

Thrift Stores in T or C tend to open early in the morning and close early in the afternoon. They are sometimes closed on strange days (Closed Wednesdays? Who does that?), and I think every one of them is closed on Sunday. Your best bet is to swing by the stores and see if a sign on the front tells you the hours and days they are open.

If you like thrift stores, you are going to love T or C.

I took all of the photos in this post.

Feb13

Where to Stay in T or C

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I’ve been writing about Truth or Consequences, NM in the last few days, and several people have told me they now have T or C on their list of places to visit. It would hardly be fair to get folks excited about visiting the town and not tell them where they can stay.

The first time I visited T or C, I had the good fortune to spend a week in a motel. I stayed at the Rocket Inn (605 N Date Street), a small motor court with only nine rooms for rent. Built in 1948, and originally called the Red Haven Motel, the entire place has been restored. According to the website, the

fully modernized King Deluxe and Double Queen rooms…include fridge, microwave, WIFI and HDTV/basic cable. [The property is] family run, dog-friendly and walking distance to Main Street.

I chose the Rocket Inn because I could walk from my room to downtown where I was able to sample the wonderful hot springs bathhouses. Everyone working at the Rocket Inn, from the owners to the housekeepers, were exceedingly nice to me and made sure I had everything I wanted and needed. The rooms were impeccably clean, and I felt perfectly safe there.

SDC10011The third time I visited Truth or Consequences, I stayed at the Artesian Bath House and RV Park (at 312 Marr Street) for two months. Nightly and weekly rates at the Artesian were reasonable, but the monthly rate was a fantastic deal.

According to the business’s Facebook page,

The Artesian Bath House opened for business June, 1930. For over 33 years the Martin’s [sic] have owned, operated, and maintained their commercial hot springs.

The Artesian is great for vandwellers, as there  are restrooms on-site, and one can take a hot bath if one wants to clean up.

I have also had great success stealth parking and boondocking in the town of Truth or Consequences. I’m not sure if I’m actually as stealthy as I like to think I am or if no one in T or C cares about who’s sleeping in a vehicle in a residential area, but when I left in December of 2015, I’d never been bothered during my nights in the van. Lots of folks park overnight in the parking lot of the T or C Wal-Mart. I have seen everything from luxury Class A’s to old-school motorhomes held together with duct tape and prayer to stealth vans parked in that lot. On some nights I’ve counted a dozen vehicles parked there, then counted them all again in the morning as I walked toward the doors of the store. Sometimes I call that parking lot the Wal-Mart RV park.

For folks who want to get out of town and into nature, there’s plenty of that in the area too.

Paseo del Rio Campground SignTruth or Consequences is very close to Elephant Butte dam and Elephant Butte State Park. According to Wikipedia,

Elephant Butte Dam…is a concrete gravity dam on the Rio Grande river near Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. The dam impounds Elephant Butte Reservoir, which is used for both recreation and agriculture. The construction of the dam has reduced the flow of the Rio Grande to a small stream, with high releases occurring only during the summer irrigation season, or during years of exceptionally heavy snow melt.

Elephant Butte Dam

Elephant Butte Dam is the large concrete structure in the middle of this photo.

The Paseo del Rio Recreation Area is part of Elephant Butte State Park. The Paseo del Rio includes a campground I stayed at for a couple of nights during my first visit to the area.

When I was there, the campground did not offer water, sewage, or electrical hookups, but each campsite had a fire ring and picnic table covered by a ramada. There were flush toilets and sinks with running water on one end of the campground, near the day-use parking lot, and portable toilets at the other end. I believe the camping fee was $10 per night.

The Rio Grande and Mountain

This photo shows the Rio Grande as it looked from the trail that ran through the campground.

A 3/4 mile trail with “interpretive signage of historic interest” ran through the campground and along the Rio Grande, and there was a historic fish hatchery in the recreation area.

I found the campground peaceful. There wasn’t much traffic at night on the road closest to the campground, so there wasn’t much disruptive automotive noise.

Fish Hatchery Lake

This photo shows one of the fish hatchery lakes. The water drew birds, so there was a lot of avian life in the area.

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This photo shows Caballo Lake, with the Caballo Mountains beyond it.

I also spent a couple of nights at the Percha Flats camping area at Caballo Lake State Park. Percha Flats was a primitive camping area with no designated campsites, no running water, no electricity, and no hookups of any kind. When I visited, there was a pit toilet and a dumpster near the entrance to the camping area. The camping fee was $8 per night. There were no designated hiking trails in the area where I stayed, but I did take some nice walks along the edge of the lake.

The final campground I stayed in near Truth or Consequences was in Percha Dam State Park. SDC10028The campground had many developed campsites, although mine only had a picnic table. My site had no ramada, and no hookups, although there may have been a water spigot there. (I can’t remember.) Many of the sites had electrical hookups, but I decided not to splurge on that. The campground also had flush toilets, sinks with running water, and hot showers that didn’t cost extra to use. I did enjoy a nice hot shower during my stay.

My last tip is a boondocking spot about 3o miles away from Truth or Consequences. Last time I was there, the cute little town of Hillsboro (population 124) allowed folks to park overnight in the community’s tiny park across the street from the Black Range Museum. There were a couple of pit toilets in the park, as well as a few informational placards, and campfires were not allowed. I think this spot would be a good place to spend the night on a trip between T or C and Silver City.

So there you have it. I’ve offered up several choices of places to stay as you start your adventures in Truth or Consequences and the surrounding area.

I took all of the photos in this post.