<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLooking out the camper window at sunshine bouncing off of snow. I\u2019m here again at Storrie Lake State Park in Las Vegas, NM. Nice! Overcast and blizzarding all day yesterday. Very blustery. Southern California seems like it was a long time ago, and far, far away\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n But today it\u2019s time to jump back into a writing regimen and get some things posted. Then I\u2019m gonna try my hand at making posole for the first time. Warm this camper up with some good smells, I hope\u2026\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n –Journal entry: Monday; December, 3rd, 2018; 9:09 am. Back in this cozy, little camper-trailer, which I like to call Cochise.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cSunshine this morning was very welcoming. Gets damn cold at night but warms quickly with the sun. I\u2019ll take it. Lots to do today \u2013 out and about: shower, haircut, library, and try to find out how to stiffen up BroBo [my Nissan Pathfinder \u2013 the Bronze Bomber] so pulling the camper doesn\u2019t always make me sick. Maybe I\u2019ll drive out to Montezuma and check out the hot spring baths.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m beginning to like this grimy old town. I feel strangely at home here\u2026\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n –Journal entry: Next\nmorning, same place. <\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnother glorious morning of sunshine and the hope for warm weather. Supposed to get up into the mid-50s. Like me \u2013 sort of. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m gonna go back to the Carnegie Library (I love that place!) and then knock around Old Town a bit \u2013 The Plaza and Bridge Street \u2013 where the Gallinas River separates West from East Las Vegas, Old from New.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019m getting quotes on getting BroBo tightened up \u2013 it\u2019s proving to be more difficult than I\u2019d thought: airbags are expensive because the mounting brackets would have to be custom made; overload springs aren\u2019t available because they\u2019re coil and not leaf, nor are overload shocks because there\u2019s no extra room in the wheel well; putting a higher-performance chip on the engine isn\u2019t going to give me any more towing power\u2026not very encouraging news. Everyone says to just get a pickup truck with a V-8 and leaf springs. Sure, I\u2019ll get right on it…\u201d <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n –Journal\nentry: Next morning, still same place. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Yes, yes, yes. I guess I\u2019m just getting settled as a rubber tramp, trying to figure it all out. Certainly not as easy as I had imagined in my romantic notions of living on the road as a carefree, stumble-bumbling storytelling vagabond; but, it\u2019s certainly been more rewarding than continuing to spin in the slimy ol\u2019 mud as a cruel, broken cog stuck in an uncaring wheel rolling roughshod over others for another man\u2019s fortune. To hell with that, I say! Gracias, no!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Forty-some years of busting arse for \u201cDa Man\u201d and little more than a bad back to show for it. I gather that\u2019s what happens when you party your way through college and, finally, end up with a Liberal Arts degree in English. More\u2019s the pity; but no tears here, dear reader. No lagrimas, amigos y amigas! No llorar aqui!<\/em> At least I can work on my Spanglish\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n So, I hunker down at this semi-abandoned campground on the edge of town, where the Sangre de Christo mountains come down to kiss the wind-blistered prairie of northeastern New Mexico, stretching toward the Panhandle region of Texas in what was once the Land of the Comanche, now the Land of Enchantment – and enchanting it is as I discover the layers of history here, everywhere present in architecture of times better seen but preserved nonetheless, because Las Vegas didn\u2019t have the money to tear it all down and rebuild with ugly, \u201cmodern\u201d boxy commercial buildings in the 1970s as so many other Western boomtowns did during the heyday of the oil and gas bonanza. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Good thing, too. This place feels poised to\npop with a revitalizing resurrection as old buildings get renovated and\nrestored to their original majesty, and the shine comes back to luster on the\ndust of history\u2019s richness. Las Vegas,\nNM, has more architectural treasure than any other place in the country\n(according to local lore), with more structures – at over 900 – on the National\nRegister of Historic Places than any other municipality per capita (with Las\nVegas having a diminishing population of about 13,000 souls). I believe it, and\nI\u2019ll bet you would as well. <\/p>\n\n\n\n It\u2019s got every building type from the old\nSpanish Colonial Mission style in Old Town to the more modern adobe pueblo design\nwith canales, vigas, Talavera tiles, placitas, entradas, nichos for Santos and\nlatillas for coyote fences \u2013 collectively known as New Mexico Vernacular and\nTerritorial Revival architecture. It\u2019s like Santa Fe on acid with a time-tripping\nticket, blasting through the past to bygone times of pre-European invasion.\nYeah, it\u2019s just like that\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n But it can seem a bit scary here, too. Las\nVegas is somewhat rustic in terms of how it appears to embrace out of towners \u2013\nor, in my case, out of staters – and it isn\u2019t overly hospitable. Not that I\u2019m\nexpecting the Welcome Wagon to roll up and throw me the keys to the city or\nanything like that. This is America in the 21st<\/sup> Century, after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I\u2019d been warned by people who\u2019d been here not\nto assume any such nonsense, and having grown up in an even smaller town I know\nfrom experience that outsiders are often viewed with suspicion and even\ncontempt, thinking that these strangers might look down upon the local denizens\nand do a silly little superior dance in their minds. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Well, I\ncertainly don\u2019t feel that way. Not at all. If anything, I\u2019m a bit in awe of my\nsurroundings, having never experienced this sense of culture tied so deeply to its\nhistory before. This place feels\noutlaw. You can feel it in the way big dudes look at you when you climb out of\nyour sporty little SUV with Colorado tags and go into the grocery store, neck\ntattoos and exposed arms the size of howitzers clocking you from bodies that\ncould easily crush yours. <\/p>\n\n\n\n And when you finally utter something you get that confused stare that often begs the question, \u201cWhere you from?<\/em>\u201d to an unwitting audience around you; so you smile and wonder whether you should say \u201cColorado\u201d, since that\u2019s where you actually came from before migrating here and have lived there for most of your life; or do you say \u201cWisgonsin\u201d, which is where you were born and raised and therefore \u201cfrom\u201d, and knowing that most people west of the Mississippi don\u2019t know diddly-squat about places East \u2013 and vice versa. <\/p>\n\n\n\n It doesn\u2019t really matter which, though. If\nyou were actually from Vegas, they would know who you are already\u2026 Small towns\nseem to work that way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So, I just don my scariest badass facade and don\u2019t smile or eyeball anyone, and try to act like I just got out of prison for something heinous – except I don\u2019t know what prison life is like except for what I\u2019ve seen in movies such as Shawshank Redemption<\/em> and Cool Hand Luke<\/em>. That really doesn\u2019t help much, I must say\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n But I feel relatively safe in my camper, at\nthe semi-abandoned campground 5 miles out of town, with an armed Parks Ranger\nnamed Manny there during the day and a locked gate after 5 pm during winter\nhours (9 pm during the summer). I have a dog that barks and a pistol that\nbites, if I can ever summon the nerve to really use it. It does give me a\nlittle peace of mind – which is nice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n After a few weeks, though, I feel much more\n\u201cat home.\u201d My plan was, at that time, to live as a rubber tramp for five years,\nand New Mexico was my intended winter getaway. I was committed to making it\nwork. It was all about the adventure. And not getting beat up, killed, or\nthrown in jail. Praying often seems to help. It usually does. <\/p>\n\n\n\n I started attending a church and met some\nwelcoming folks, although the membership was pretty small and one of the\n\u201cofficers\u201d kept recruiting me to come to Bible Study groups and other things\nthat didn\u2019t interest me at all. I kept quiet and smiled during the \u201cgreeting\u201d\npart of the service. It was advent season and brought back a lot of distant but\nfond holiday memories. I always left feeling refreshed and better prepared for\nwhatever was to come, but I certainly never felt \u201cblessed\u201d. For some reason\nthat sensation has never honestly stuck to me. Just sayin\u2026 <\/p>\n\n\n\n I also feet at ease at the Montezuma Hot Springs, looking up at the old turreted hotel known as the Castle, now a campus for the United World College. The mineral-rich, lithium-laced water bubbles out of the hillside at flesh-scalding temperatures to us soft-skinned gringos and other non-natives. Fortunately, there are enough bath spot options to find your comfort zone, and if you are feeling particularly gnarly you can take a quick dip in the chilling waters of the nearby Gallinas River. I almost did, once\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n Here flocked not only locals but other\nvagabonds passing through, as evidenced by the various rigs and license plates\nlining the road. It soon became apparent that I was one small part of a much\nlarger tribe of rubber tramps who shared my age or were older, but had the same\nmotivation for unburdening themselves of unnecessary residential trappings and\ncame to embrace the nomadic drifting of the wanderer on wheels. <\/p>\n\n\n\n We talked of various camping hamlets\nthroughout the West, discussing hook-up fees, shower\/laundry availability, and\nthe natural wonders which drew us there. Suddenly, the world around me grew a bit\nless scary, as the therapeutic waters washed anxiety downstream, and my pink,\nwrinkled skin started to tingle just a little. I began to realize that \u201chome\u201d\nbecame less of a static place marked on a map and remembered accordingly, but more\nan abstract realization of where you were in the moment, and the comfort you\ntook from that. (Must have been something more than minerals in those searing,\nhealing waters I guess\u2026)<\/p>\n\n\n\n But aside from the grocery store and library, church and the hot springs, I sought a little social interaction in more familiar venues, and soon found myself settled on a stool at the hometown tap: Dick\u2019s Pub and Restaurant, to be precise. I didn\u2019t linger long because at first it wasn\u2019t friendly, hard eyes and hushed tones greeted me when I meekly opened the door, as though I\u2019d wandered through a broken fence into a salvage yard full of junkyard dogs. Grrr\u2026 <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Besides, I sure as sunrises and taxes didn\u2019t want to take any chances smelling like beer if I got pulled over by the law dogs, and there is plenty of law enforcement \u2013 as well as plenty of lawbreakers \u2013 in Las Vegas, New Mexico: three different types of police cars (never enough in the annual budget to replace the whole fleet at once) and unknown numbers of undercover cops, hella bunch of sheriff\u2019s deputies (it’s the county seat) and more State Troopers than I\u2019ve ever seen before, because they have a local headquarters in town since I-25 runs through it. And word around the campfire is that Colorado plates mean real money to law enforcement coffers, because we actually pay our fines. Bueno, no!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Let\u2019s stop right here, dear reader, and grab a well-earned break. I still feel the need to give a bit more history of this place, particularly after the railroad rolled in, but I thought it better if we knocked around a little first – stepping into the boots of the visiting inquisitor, so to speak. <\/p>\n\n\n\n We can take a trip back to the gunslinging\nheyday and the lynching vigilantes of The Wild, Wild West with the next\nepisode, so cock your hat forward, hold tight to those reins and stay in the\nsaddle \u2013 we\u2019re about to take this tale\nto its final stages, and see where the next one begins\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p> <\/ul><\/div>\n