We’ve found ourselves back at the campground in the grove at the trailhead to Cohab Canyon where I proposed to René about a dozen years ago on our legendary motorcyle tour of the southwest.
We are just feet from where we tent camped. We probably would have moved if this big ol’ rig parked next to us at the time.
I also just found the following autobiographical early “web page code” and have hereby salvaged it from becoming internet detritus….
Surprised? I saved the cartoon shown for many years before giving it to the woman I knew would marry.
Just the other day, I was thinking of writing about how much I love our satellite internet system. It provides us with connectivity even when we have no cell phone coverage camped deep in a National Forest campground, alongside a roaring stream, in the snow.
Then our Datastorm F2 refused to deploy. Luckily, we had made it back to civilization at Mountain Views RV Resort in Creede, CO with full hookups and WiFi. But now we are taking an 900 mile round-trip detour to Salt Lake City for a factory repair at MotoSat.
As soon as our rig crossed the border into Colorado, my spirit felt as if I had returned home. This land just calls out to me.
From Minnesota to Maine, there are lots of beautiful places in this country that I think I could live in. But none of them feed my soul like Colorado does. I know I’d love living here. But it could be a pipe dream.
Because in Colorado, you’d never know real estate is crashing all over the country. The Rockies are the most beautiful place in the U.S., and property owners know it. They have it made. I’m not seeing reasonable prices on any pieces of land, except for the most isolated patches of non-irrigated ag fields in the plains regions.
But it is snowing, the water is pretty rough, and those who are giving it a go don’t look very happy.
After my windy morning on the Arkansas, I doubt I’ll be contemplating much longer. Even though we had heard the fishing was hot, it was definitely not. And while there is no such thing as a bad day fishing, I don’t care to repeat that adventure.
One more word about New Mexico: The food was pretty darn bueno. I guess that’s six words, but even the white people fare there was worth mention. From the tortilla burger and mystery spices and the Frontier’s cinnamon rolls to Hodges breakfast buffet and Bellaluca, we never had a bad dining experience.
We rarely do, but I’m picky. And I picked El Camino resturant in Socorro for our last meal on the road when we left our workamping job at Riverbend in Truth or Consequences. René might have verbally suggested it, but I wanted to go there since we passed their cool sign on the way to the Very Large Array.
This journey isn’t only about choosing where to live, but how to live. Like how to use sustainable, eco friendly building construction methods that we can incorporate into our future stick home. From straw bale to earthships, there are countless, affordable options to live a less impactful life. All it takes is a little research, and a lot of elbow grease.
Before leaving New Mexico, we toured the world-renowned Earthship Institute, just outside of Taos. Earthships are built out of recycled materials like tires, and aluminum cans, and are designed to be completely off-grid. They’re a lot of work to build, but as you can see, the results are spectacular. We definitely see one in our future.
I’ll never forget doing chile shots with Charles. But I’ll kick myself for not capturing him on film, or CompactFlash media for that matter. Ouch.
By the time we got to El Santuario Chimayó we were starving. We were either lightheaded from hunger, respectful of his culture, or merely too mesmerized by Señor Charles Medina to take out the camera.
A pity really, because words cannot describe this enchanting character.
You can’t go anywhere in New Mexico without running into another miraculous historical building or energy vortex. It’s a challenge to pick which ones to visit, but checking out this church was a must for me (the last one for a while, I swear!). Because this church isn’t just any old church, it’s a church built on miraculous dirt.
I first heard about Chimayo through a family friend, who made a pilgrimage there in the 1980s, when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She headed there like so many others, in search of the holy spirit that would receive her prayers and aid in her recovery. The magic worked. She beat the cancer, and swears that the reason she’s made it into her 80s is because of her pilgrimage and the miraculous dirt she took home from Chimayo.
Last week, my friend took a bad fall and is now in a rehab hospital. When I heard this news, I decided to make my own pilgrimage to Chimayo, just north of Santa Fe, to get some more of that magic dirt to send to her.
We’ve found ourselves back at the campground in the grove at the trailhead to Cohab Canyon where I proposed to René about a dozen years ago on our legendary motorcyle tour of the southwest.
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