Before I delve in to the New Mexico recap, I just wanted to thank those who commented on my “This Old House” post. I loved reading about your respective memories of that first place we each called “home.” I found the comments not only moving, but also rewarding that writing a post on a personal blog could net me so many wonderful “mini vignettes” in return. Thank you all for the gifts.
Last year when I attended the Santa Fe Opera, the program distributed at the beginning of the performance contained a preview of the upcoming 2019 season. One performance particularly piqued my interest enough to make me want to return for the second year in a row. Renée Fleming, in her Santa Fe Opera debut, would be Continue reading
I have taken a lot of teasing about my bottomless bucket list in the past. But I still maintain without goals, we just meander. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, except my meandering is typically mediocre unless I know where I want to go. Yes, it’s all about the journey, but I need to at least have a destination in mind. In this case, the destination is the Santa Fe Opera. Continue reading
I am one of the last to leave the small Jemez Springs forest service campground upon news of the entire Santa Fe Forest closure. As I pull out and give a last wave to the camp host, (who is allowed to stay through the closure,) he says “With all these people leaving the forest, you’d better get to where yer gettin’, girl!” It’s a Friday morning, and the forest fires are not the only thing heating up. The temps are now starting to creep Continue reading
During my nine days spent in and around the little hamlet of Jemez Springs, I sampled five hot springs venues, each with its own unique atmosphere. I loved them all for very different reasons. Some required more effort than others, but to a hot springs aficionado, each had its own unique payoff. Here they are, in no particular order. Continue reading
NOTE: I have been off the road for a month attending family visits, followed by over a week with no cell signal. Here is a post I wrote over Memorial day, before I stored the Winnie in Santa Fe to fly out. Old news now, but written, therefore published …
In addition to my mantra for 2018’s travels, “slow down, stay longer,” I also vow to visit more hot springs along the way. Soaking in natural spring water warmed in the bowels of Mother Earth is something I have always found to be soothing as well as restorative. Continue reading
I’ll admit I’d never even heard of Chaco Culture National Historic Park until I visited Mesa Verde National Park in 2015 when a Ranger on one of the guided tours said “If you think this is something, you should visit Chaco Canyon!” So to learn that it was once considered the center of all ancestral Puebloan culture came as quite a surprise. How could this ancient hub of civilization, just one state over from my childhood home, be a complete unknown to me? After all the road trips of my youth across the great southwest, Continue reading
I have been feeling a bit “ordinary” lately. After being on the road full time for over a year, I can honestly say this is the first time that I have felt somewhat unsettled in my conviction to this lifestyle. I have even had a couple of those little pangs of “ugh, is this nomadic lifestyle too much for me while trying to hold down a full time job? And if I can’t get up the nerve to quit the job, well then….” Continue reading
After spending my longest stretch ever with no hookups, including three national parks, a couple of Walmarts, and a road side rest area, I am really ready to get back to “the pole.” Continue reading
It occurs to me, of all the states I have lived in, Texas, Louisiana, New York, New Jersey, and Georgia, none have been “land locked.” I have always had access to the ocean. Maybe it required a drive for five hours, but I could still get there in a weekend. So as I sit at the picnic table at White Sands Monument observing the different families, I realize this “monument” is not just a tourist attraction for nomads and bucket listers. Continue reading
My brother Don is three years older than me. We have mutual childhood friends our respective ages, George and his younger brother Fred. We had a lot in common as kids. We all grew up on a farm, and Fred and I shared a mutual love of music since “the early years.” Still to this day, Fred is the only person to whom I can say “They just don’t make music like they used to,” and know he feels my same pain.
It’s the autumn of 1966. Football season is winding down, while basketball season is in full swing in Small Town Texas. Camaraderie is fierce during this time of year, with parades, floats, band practice, and giant homecoming mums. So it doesn’t take long for word to spread among the small town community that there has been an “accident.” Continue reading