The Chool Bus (ch31)

CHAPTER 31: Focus group interviews complete at Central New Mexico Community College. The gang gears up for a full day on the Embudito Trail. This time Buck won’t have to carry Professor T on his back…hopefully.

The interview participants were gone for the day, and with that, the Forks were free to plan the next day’s trek on the Embudito Trail. Professor T wanted to break the new shoes in a little before putting them to the test, so as Jack busied himself documenting the last sessions and getting them uploaded to the cloud, Mork disappeared to a nearby park for a few laps getting a feel for the new shoes.

Billie and Buck were searching for some New Mexico trivia to spice up conversations over dinner.

“I wonder why anyone would choose to live here on purpose?” said Buck. Seriously, i remember a family trip when i was nine or ten. Dad wanted us to see Carlsbad Caverns, so we drove all the way from Corpus Christi in one shot, rented a room nearby then spent the day exploring. I recall never being so impressed with Mother Nature’s wonder than the sight of the ‘Big Dome.’ Truly incredible.” Buck took a luke-warm sip from the vending-machine soda he’d gotten before the last session and went on. “But as amazing as the caverns are, the bleak landscape we had to cross to get there…shrubs and stubby mesquite bushes, dirt, dirt, and wind-blown dirt. Every once in a while, Dollar General, windshield repair shops, then some more wind-blown dirt, mesquite bushes, shrubs, and more dirt. And this was the good stuff. Apparently, the locals hadn’t seen that public service announcement with the Native American shedding a tear over the roadside litter, because there was trash, trash, and more trash in the ditches. Hell, i think that made me sad enough to cry.”

“You gotta be kidding, Buck,” Billie was incredulous. “You don’t see that kind of carelessness in Kansas or Colorado. In fact, i think you could get yourself killed doing that kind of thing in our neck of the woods…especially in the mountains. Kanoradians are proud of nature’s beauty.” She shrugged, barely smiling. “I remember seeing those ads…we haven’t had a litter problem since.”

“Anyway, New Mexico is nothing if not a land of contrasts.” Buck wanted to veer away from the depressing stuff. “Have you ever been to Santa Fe or Taos?”

“No,” said Billie. “But i’m a Georgia O’Keefe fan for sure.”

Buck chuckled. “I’m familiar, but i don’t understand the fuss. After all, sometimes a rose is just a rose.”

Billie had to suppress a belly laugh. “And sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.” They seemed to be on the same page about art. “I’ve heard people talk about life in that part of New Mexico, laid-back with lots of hippies.”

“Cowboys, too,” said Buck. “In fact, Henry McCarty went bad in Silver City foster homes.”

“Henry McCarty?” Billie had never heard that name.

“Yeah,” said Buck. “After a jailbreak and a fatal encounter with a blacksmith and some horse theivin’ he went by the ‘Kid’ handle. He wasn’t Billy the Kid till the tabloids of the day immortalized him in print long after his death. But there ya go. New Mexico claims him.”

With Jack finishing up and Billie and Buck’s conversation ongoing, Professor T returned to the Bus with a wide grin.

“These shoes will do just fine,” said Professor T. And after a restful night’s slumber, the gang made their way to the local pancake house for a hearty breakfast, then on to the Embudito trailhead at the foot of the Sandia Mountains. 

A perfect day for hiking and also a perfect day to learn about Albuquerque’s parking lot speed-bumps. On the way out of the pancake house, Billie missed the cue and the jolt sent everyone toward the Bus’ ceiling. Billie and Buck were strapped in but Jack and Mork crashed knees into the galley table…hilarious. Though no one was hurt and the driver-side fan that Billie had been meaning to fix since California started working again, she’ll never underestimate another speed bump…lesson learned.

So, on the road East, the gang was evenly split on whether to pass through artsy Taos, nerdy Roswell/White Sands, or skip the touristy diversions and continue on Historic Route 66 to their next focus-group destination, Oklahoma State University in Stillwater. 

What to do? What to do? 

“After all, Taos offers a confluence of culture and nature, a vibrant artistic community,” said Professor T. “Roswell… well, that’s just a tourist trap for people who want to believe in aliens. Do you think it coincidental that Roswell is so near the White Sands proving-ground for military and rocketry research?” 

“Hmmm,” Billie was intrigued.

“That’s rich coming from a guy who couldn’t account for a middle-age foot spread,” said Jack. “Taos is for artists and hippies, Professor. People who paint pictures of rocks and write poems about the moon. Roswell is for real Americans. People who are willing to face the unknown, and maybe find some alien technologies to beat the Soviets.”

“Oh snap!” said Billie, sometimes Mork and Jack would get carried away with their debates. Years on the road tends to expand the boundaries of polite conversation.

Buck was starting to worry about these guys.

“Yes, the great American spirit of curiosity,” said Professor T. “Which, in your case, seems to be limited to finding a better way to beat a mule. And by ‘beat a mule,’ i mean, of course, finding a new and improved method for being a hee-honking jackass.” Professor T was personally invested in Taos, and Billie wondered if there was a former girlfriend there or something.

“Wait a second,” said Jack. “I think I know why you want to go to Taos. It’s because you’re a sensitive soul. You like to write lyrical poetry and look at pictures of sunsets. You’re probably one of those guys who thinks that the universe is talking to you.”

“Actually, i do believe that the universe is talking to me. It’s saying, ‘Jack Dean is an idiot.’ Please stop him before he rubs his ‘all et up with the dumbass’ all over these young impressionables.”

“Young? Ah, how nice of you to say so,” Billie blushed. “How about a compromise? We can get our touristy impulse fed by experiencing eight more hours of Americana on Route 66, we can feed Professor T’s intellectual curiosity by visiting pipeline central in Cushing Oklahoma, then Jack’s conspiracy bug with a visit to the site of ‘Black Wall Street’ in Tulsa. After that, we’ll probably need a powerful steam shower, or maybe an all-day soak in one of those Arkansas hot spring complexes.

Jack and Professor T decided to yield to Billie’s logic. “Well, Mork, i guess it’s six of one, half-dozen of the other. Billi’s got a point. You can feed your sensitive soul some other time in Georgia O’Keeffe’s stomping grounds.”

“Don’t forget the roses,” chuckled Buck.

“And the cigars,” snickered Billie.

With that, Billie pointed the Chool Bus toward Tucumcari by way of Santa Rosa… Route 66 or bust!

NEXT WEEK:
The gang conducts interviews at Oklahoma State University before venturing into hot spring paradise/pot-hole central, Arkansas.

GO BACK => Preface and Chapter Links

The Chool Bus (ch30)

CHAPTER 30: Professor T wastes no time taking another stab at acquiring comfortable hiking boots. Next stop, Albuquerque. Focus group interviews at Central New Mexico Community College (CNM), after which the gang takes another swing at nature trekking on the Embudito Trail.

The gang was running ahead of schedule so Professor T was anxious to consult a real outdoor footwear specialist once the bus rolled into Albuquerque. But it was a nearly six hour journey from Williams on Interstate 40/Historic Route 66. And since they weren’t pressed for time, the gang wanted to do some touristy stuff en route. Of course, Billie wanted to see if anyone was driving a flat-bed Ford slowin’ down to take a look at someone standing on the corner in Winslow Arizona. But like the Dude in The Big Lebowski, if she had to pick something from the Classic Rock canon, it would be Creedence. 

Truth told, she doesn’t really hate the Eagles like “The Dude,” she considered all that noise so much fake controversy, anyway…just marketing noise. Grunge-Metal is her grindstone, and hard-core Grunge started as a rejection of the pabulum corporate A&R people were pushing on radio and MTV’s “heavy rotation”…mostly vapid, soulless “Hair Metal.”

“Besides,” said Billie. “When you get down to brass tacks, ‘Take it Easy’ is Jackson Browne’s song.” Billie plays the tough-as-nails Grunge Queen to a tee, but among friends she’ll confess to having loved Jackson’s early work, as well as the social commentary that came later…Lawyers in Love, Information War, Barricades of Heaven. “Good stuff,” said Billie. “Not entirely unlike the social commentary of punk bands like Green day and The Clash.”

***

Jack was more interested in seeing some retro sights, so the gang decided to stop at an Indian Market on the Continental Divide for some photos and trinkets. Once back on the road, Billie dialed her music playlist to those early country-rock, classic Americana tunes. Starting with those gorgeous duets by Graham Parsons and Emmylou Harris. Buck was aware of Parsons’ early influence on the Americana genre, but had never really listened to those deep cuts. So, Billie and Buck settled into a quiet reverie in the pilot and co-pilot seats of the Chool Bus.

Back in the galley area, Professor T and Jack were at it again. This time, inspired by their interaction with the local natives…the topic was Immigration. 

“How can we justify considering ANYONE illegal on land taken away from their ancestors by force?” Jack was taking Professor T to the task of defending the trail of tears leading to euro-honkey hegemony in the USA.

“Well,” Professor T assumed a somber countenance formulating his response. See, Mork and Jack were constantly flexing their rhetorical muscles, each using the other as a sounding board…a form of mental practice. Sort of like chess, but with ideas and words. “Europe was getting crowded and opportunities for building wealth was growing scarce. The news of boundless land and natural resources coming from North America was presenting a tempting brass ring to grab. Very sexy,” said Professor T. “And since Europeans were in possession of better technology for prevailing in armed conflict, i guess their dominance could have been considered inevitable.”

“But, the indigenous people were handicapped by a different relationship with the land,” said Jack. “More like co-existence, with the concept of ‘ownership’ being an unthinkable proposition.” 

“Yes but, over the centuries, euro-honkeys had developed a conquer and rule modus operendi. And once it became apparent who had the sharpest knives, the most soldiers, and an iron-will to commit outrage against those daring to challenge, they became dominant. They made the rules, and they enforced those rules with the promise of ruthless violence.” Professor T felt he was on the losing end of this discussion. He considered the current movement toward branding indigenous and Latino people “illegal” patently absurd.

“I guess it comes down to which philosophy is better suited for dominance, and the euro-honkeys had it,” said Professor T. You may not like the result, but it’s important to recognize the fundamental mistake made by indigenous tribes.” He shrugged, and continued. “Had they understood the inevitable dominance of the euro way of social organization, they could have learned to play that game while preserving religious and cultural traditions within a ‘fenced-in honkey world.’” None of it was ‘inevitable’ at the time. Remember, the Whites had to negotiate with each other over how to grow crops, manage livestock, and co-exist near population centers. Many of those negotiations done at the barrel of guns.”

Jack was appalled at a sense of entitlement the recent Christian Nationalist/White Supremacist movement was conducting themselves. “I just don’t think it’s sustainable,” said Jack. They can’t justify ruling such a diverse nation from a theocratic platform. Isn’t this what they are fighting with the Muslims about? And the idea of building a wall to keep out people originally displaced by White Supremacist ancestors is laughably absurd. We have to get back to honoring diversity. We can never accomplish a pure white ethno-state…not here.” 

 “Well, they’re gonna give it the ol’ college try, it seems,” said Professor T. And that conflict is ramping up to fever-pitch as we speak. The folks favoring good ol’ euro-honkey hegemony have recognized demographic vicissitudes were heading toward something they call, ‘The Great Replacement.’ Where a nation dominated by whites for two-hundred-ish years was heading toward an organic inversion. White couples having fewer if any children; brown Christians and Muslims being ‘fruitful’ like gang-busters; and the folks down south, the ones displaced by land wars, have been returning like homing pigeons. And unlike the proud North American Warrior-Tribes of the 19th Century,’ these folks learned to coexist alongside the whites, signing up for jobs the entitled honkeys didn’t want to do. Not to mention the rainbow wave of others from around the world applying for citizenship to this teeming ‘land of boot-strap opportunity’ with their relentless work-ethic and professional credentials.”

Jack shook his head, sadly. “We could choose to welcome and assimilate them in our uniquely diverse stew,” said Jack. “Instead, we’re trying to deport ALL of them, then keep them out with legal and literal freaking walls? This is crazy, and not sustainable!”

Professor T pondered Jack’s “unsustainable” argument, then put on his “devil’s advocate” hat and plowed right in. “You know, multiculturalism was never going to work. It’s an inherent vulnerability as other multi-ethnic states have faced social fragmentation, lower civic trust, and heightened tribal conflict.”

“As we are seeing now,” said Jack. “But it seems the only tribe at war is the white ethno-nationalist euro-honkey tribe. I’m not sure we can count their declared self-fulfilling prophecy as a worthy one.” 

Professor T was testing the tensile strength of his debater’s resolution skills. “But there are social thought leaders with direct access to the White House asserting non-Western immigrants can’t assimilate into American civic life. They conclude physical removal is the only tenable solution to preserve cultural norms. ‘Look at all the innocent victims of crime perpetrated by illegals,’ they say. ‘It’s an invasion, and we have to remove them in order to preserve fundamental national sovereignty.’ ‘Besides,’ they declare, ‘we’re merely enforcing laws previous administrations were too cowardly to do themselves. Total deportation is simply the literal enforcement of existing immigration law.’” 

Jack was starting to feel like he needed a shower. “Well, that kind of thinking may have friends in the White House, but i suspect there’ll be a total dismantling of these draconian measures once current occupants are replaced by the democratic will of our nation’s formerly sleepy majority.”

“We’ll have to pick this up later,” said Professor T. There’s the gettin’ place!” Billie was steering the Bus into the parking lot. “I’m going to retire my cruel shoes for a less agonizing experience on the Embudito Trail.”  

NEXT WEEK:
Focus group interviews completed at Central New Mexico Community College and the gang gears up for a full day on the Embudito Trail. This time Buck won’t have to carry Professor T on his back…hopefully.

GO BACK => Preface and Chapter Links

The Chool Bus (ch29)

CHAPTER 29: Cruel Shoes and the glory of Mother Nature’s geological wonders.

Professor T finally finished the backlog of work accumulated while preparing for the current leg of the research tour. Being thus preoccupied, one of the things he forgot was the fact that his old hiking boots were no longer usable. He needed to acquire a new pair for the big Grand Canyon visit. So, while Jack made the gang’s arrangements for an old-school Steam Train starting in Williams, Arizona, to the canyon’s south rim, Professor T did a search for outdoor gear retailers. With the Williams destination poked into Siri’s Drunk Sister’s navigation app, the Chool Bus was underway and everyone was stoked to spend the day in Mother Nature’s spectacular playground. 

The tour Jack arranged included a wild-west themed diversion on a vintage steam train. The “Bright Angel” trail-head was close to a South Rim lodge and the gang was determined to get deep enough into the canyon for some epic photo opportunities before catching the return trip back to Williams. Jack failed to mention the return trip also featured a mock train robbery, fake guns, desperados and all, so that was kinda fun. 

The real attraction was the hike itself. But the fun quickly diminished for Professor T as his feet had gained some significant width over the years and after a half mile or so into the Bright Angel descent, as described by Professor T, the expensive hiking boots he had stupidly tried on and purchased without assistance was beginning to straight-up torture his pinky toes…both of them. At first he pretended like nothing was amiss, but with each passing step those pinky toes were shouting something about those shoes…those cruel-shoes

It had been many, many years since last he had purchased hiking boots. He was due for a new pair, but all those years had altered the dimensions of his feet unbeknownst to him…the piper was being paid now. As the Bright Angel journey down, down, and down progressed, Professor T thought about turning back so that he could enter some civilized comfort of the south rim lodge’s gift shop, remove those cruel-shoes, massage his aching feet and learn his lesson. Never, he vowed. Never will i ever allow myself to purchase specialty shoes without consulting an expert with knowledge of conditions on hot, dusty, steep-grade, cliff-addled trails, ever again

Professor T kept this suffering to himself and the gang continued their downward descent on Bright Angel’s trail.

Jack was keeping time, he knew the return trip would take longer as uphill is slower going than down. When his phone indicated it was time to turn back, Professor T let out a sigh of relief as uphill would place less pressure on his beleaguered pinky toes. He wanted to exclaim for the universe to hear…HALLELUJAH! My toes are free at last, free at last, thank Zeus Almighty, my piggies are free at last. 

It was one of those funny/not funny situations best consumed visually, but since this is a novel, we’ll just set the scene “screenplay” style:

EXT. BRIGHT ANGEL TRAIL – DAY

A scorching sun beats down on the towering red rocks of the Grand Canyon.

PROFESSOR THOMPSON (60s, wearing a cotton Hawaiian shirt, bucket hat, and glaringly new hiking boots two sizes too narrow) hobbles down the switchback.

His companions, BILLIE (40s, energetic, carrying binoculars) JACK (50s distractedly browsing the Bright Angel brochure) and BUCK (30s, strong like bull, sporting a hydration pack), shuffles confidently ahead.

BUCK (Inhaling deeply): Ah! Smell that crisp desert air, Professor! Nature in all her unbridled majesty!

THOMPSON: (Grimacing, teeth clenched in a tight smile) Splendid, Buck! Absolutely… screamingly… splendid!

An animated X-RAY VISION CUTAWAY reveals the professor’s feet inside the boots. His left and right pinky toes are crushed flat like little Vienna sausages.

Suddenly, tiny OPERA WINGS and HELMETS appear on both pinky toes. They throw their heads back in dramatic unison.

PINKY TOES (V.O.) (Singing high-pitched, operatic Primo Uomo Tenor): ♪ O SOLO MIOOOOO! O SOLO MIOOOOO! ♪

     BACK TO SCENE:

Mork Thompson winces as his left boot strikes a small pebble.

THOMPSON: Gah-ha-ha-OY-VAY!

BILLIE: Did you say something, Morkster?

THOMPSON: Just… admiring the stratigraphy! Look at that Tapeats Sandstone! Oh, the temptation to study it from the comfort of the rim! Perhaps near the lodge? Where there are chairs? And air conditioning? And gentle carpets? And ice-cream?

JACK: Nonsense! The real science is down at Havasupai Gardens! Only four more agonizing…i mean, glorious miles to go!

Thompson’s eyes widen in terror.

PINKY TOES (V.O.): ♪ FIGARO… FIGARO… FIIIIIGAROOOO! ♪

Mork Thompson takes another step. CRUNCH. He stumbles forward, trying to disguise his excruciating limp as a sprightly dance step. He does an awkward, desperate tap-dance routine cringingly close to the edge of a hundred-foot drop.

BILLIE (Gasping): Look at the Professor! He’s doing an interpretive dance to the canyon’s beauty!

JACK: Bravo, Professor! Celebrate the wonder!

Professor T violently twirls, grabs a wooden trail sign for balance, and accidentally spins it around so the arrow pointing back UP to the rim now points DOWN.

THOMPSON (Sweating profusely, leaning heavily on his trek pole): Say, y’all! Look at that! The sign clearly indicates that the… ah… South Rim Gift Shop and Toe-Massaging Emporium is actually this way! Down is Up! Up is Down! SCIENCE! Let’s turn back!

BILLIE (Giggling): Oh, Professor, you silly goose. You flipped the sign! the lodge is that way!

Billie points UP the steep, dusty trail. Thompson stares at the endless vertical incline.

PINKY TOES (V.O.): ♪ FIGARO! FIGARO! FIGARO! NOOOOOOOOO! ♪

THOMPSON (Voice cracking): Right. Up. The stairs of eternal damnation. Splendid.

JACK: Tell you what, Mork. You lead the way back up! (Imitating Arnold Schwarzenegger) Show us your leadership capabilities!

THOMPSON (Nodding weakly): Yes… leadership…

Thompson turns around. He takes one step UP.

      SCREECH

His boot hit a solid boulder banging his right pinky toe on the front wall of the narrow boots. He freezes, paralyzed by a blinding lightning bolt of pure agony. His eyes roll into the back of his head.

Without moving his legs, he deliberately tips backward like a felled timber.

     THUD

He lands flat on his butt in the dust, staring up at the blue sky.

BILLIE: Mork! Are you okay?!

THOMPSON (Calmly, eyes wide, holding completely still): I am merely… taking in the grandeur from a low-angle perspective.

BUCK: Incredible dedication!

THOMPSON: Billie… Jack… Buck… listen to me carefully. The canyon has spoken to me. It says… ‘Go back to the lodge. Buy the overpriced padded-socks. Unlace the cruel-shoes. Release the Singing Pinky Toes.’

BILLIE (Confused): The Singing Toes?

THOMPSON (Desperate, standing up, grabbing Jack by the lapels): THE TOES, JACK! THEY ARE SINGING PUCCINI! THEY WANT OUT!

BUCK (Laughing): Ah, sun-madness! A classic hiker malady! Come on, I’ll piggyback you the last fifty feet to the trailhead!

Buck hoists Professor T onto his back. Mork’s legs dangle free. The pressure vanishes from his pinky toes.

PINKY TOES (V.O.): ♪ HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! ♪

Thompson lets out a long, blissful sigh, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder as Jack and Billie plow up the trail toward the gift shop.

THOMPSON (Smiling beatifically): Onward, noble dragon. To the air-conditioned ice-cream station.

[SCENE END]

NEXT WEEK:
Professor T wastes no time consulting an expert at the local outdoor gear ship, taking another stab at acquiring comfortable hiking boots. Next stop, Albuquerque New Mexico. Focus group interviews at Central New Mexico Community College (CNM), then the gang takes another shot at nature trekking on the Embudito Trail.

GO BACK => Preface and Chapter Links

This Land: New Mexico

So… planning for the Arizona visit, we acquired gear for Grand Canyon hiking: waffle stompers, wicking shirts, loose shorts, and a camelbackpack for emergency provisions. Also, we did some cursory research looking for a moderate difficulty day-hike, instructions on how to get to the trailhead, and a checklist of what to expect.

The plan was to do the hike, write the Arizona post in the Flagstaff mall food court. After that, give the Colorado Springs peeps a heads up as we were planning to head back to Hays via Grand Junction, Colorado Springs, then the home stretch, with Hays arrival in the last week of October.

Well… as they say about the best laid plans… some minor changes and a couple lessons learned:

LESSON #1: It became apparent the Flagstaff mall was not going to allow overnight parking, so we did some Flagstaff-specific Googlin’ and discovered the wonders of Cracker Barrel. A bit off the beaten path, but OMG, Boondocker’s heaven. We did kinda know that already, but wow, so nice to be able to sleep assured the 2:00am parking lot security knock wasn’t coming. As a gesture of gratitude, we made a point to patronize their business leading to another OMG moment. Cracker Barrel is the MASTER of “comfort food.” And there we have it, another option for 24/5 PF towns.

LESSON #2: The Fila waffle stompers turned out to be stealth “cruel shoes”. He kinda got that notion on the Grand Canyon “Bright Angel” hike, but it all came crashing into awareness like the Kool Aid man on the New Mexico hike. Oh, by the way, the itinerary changed, slightly. We took a detour to New Mexico before heading back to Colorado. Once landing in Albuquerque, we decided to take on an intermediate trail (Embudito) and take it all the way to the peak summit. Did we make it? Hell to the no. Did we give it the ol’ college try? Sure, and this is where Ronnie FIRED the Filas. His pinky toes, both of them, were screaming for 6 of the 8 miles we managed to cover. But no shame… it was a semi-challenging hike, and toward the end, Ronnie’s knees (those whiny little punks) were singing harmony with the pinky toes. He resolved to engage the shoe experts at REI in order to replace the cruel shoes with trail hikers a little less inclined to torture the wearer. We’ll see, but not today… still recovering. 

Anyway… New Mexico, a state known for its stunning landscapes, rich history, and vibrant culture, offers a unique blend of experiences.

THE GOOD: New Mexico is home to numerous natural hot springs, many of which are publicly accessible. Some of the most popular include Ojo Caliente Mineral Springs, Ten Thousand Waves, and Gila Hot Springs. These geothermal wonders offer relaxation, rejuvenation, and therapeutic benefits. As for higher learning, NM boasts several excellent small to medium-sized colleges, providing quality education and a more intimate learning environment. New Mexico also has a rich literary heritage, with several famous authors and literary landmarks. Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in Santa Fe is a must-visit for art enthusiasts, and the Bandelier National Monument, where author D.H. Lawrence once lived, offers a glimpse into the region’s history and natural beauty.

THE SUPER GOOD: New Mexico is widely praised for its diverse landscapes, including the majestic Rocky Mountains, the arid deserts, and the enchanting forests. The state’s rich cultural heritage, influenced by Native American, Spanish, and Mexican traditions, is also a major draw. Additionally, New Mexico’s friendly and welcoming people, as well as its affordable cost of living, make it an attractive place to live and visit. For example, Carlsbad Caverns National Park is an underground wonderland featuring a vast network of interconnected caves, including the iconic Giant Dome, which is one of the largest stalactite formations in the world. And New Mexico has produced many famous figures throughout history, including artists Georgia O’Keeffe and Billy the Kid. Other notable individuals include author D.H. Lawrence, scientist Albert Einstein, and astronaut Neil Armstrong.

THE BAD & UGLY: Isolation, some parts of New Mexico can be remote, with limited access to amenities and services. This isolation can be a challenge for those seeking a more urban lifestyle. As for the weather, New Mexico enjoys a pleasant climate for most of the year. That said, the state can experience extreme weather conditions, including hot summers and cold winters. Additionally, the state is prone to droughts and wildfires.

And the economy? New Mexico’s economy has historically faced challenges, with a reliance on industries such as oil and gas, tourism, and government. The state has been working to diversify its economy and create more job opportunities. Overall, New Mexico offers a unique and rewarding experience for those seeking adventure, culture, and natural beauty. While the state has its challenges, its many positive aspects make it a desirable place to live and visit.

Onward through the fog… R.H.

You got those speed bumps…
In Albuquerque…
They sneak up on you…
And you’re a turkey…
But please remember…
Browsing Taos Galleries…
Sometimes a rose is just a rose.