On the Road: New Mexico at Last

View from Pajarito Rest Area, New Mexico

 

The scene above, from a photograph taken today, was familiar to me from the first time the Artist and I made the trek from Northport, Michigan, to Dos Cabezas, Arizona. That cold January day in 2015, when we paused with cameras at the Pajarito Rest Area, the wind was fierce, and a worker told me with some amusement that many Northerners, somewhat to their dismay, arrive just in time for the windiest New Mexico season. In my opinion, the views more than made up for the wind. "We're someplace different," the Artist said. He liked to say that.

 

And if I say, “New Mexico at last!” you can be sure I will also say, a little way down the road, “Santa Rosa! Finally!” 

Remember when I posted a shot of this theatre last fall?

The little town in New Mexico captured my heart in April of 2015, when we stopped to explore on our way back to Michigan, and on every trip thereafter, we stopped at least for a meal in Santa Rosa and often overnight and usually found time to cruise slowly around town to visit again and again our favorite sites.

 

“We should spend a few days here sometime,” the Artist said. I agreed readily. In the spring, when the water is warm enough for swimming. Maybe find out when a rodeo might be scheduled. Try a couple more restaurants. But “when we have more time” has a way of never arriving, since every sunset subtracts a day from however many any of us may have left, and we never know how many that is to begin with.

 

Although I had gotten a motel room early on Monday, not wanting to endure any more stress on ice-covered and slippery highways, with more snow still coming down, I didn’t sleep all that well, mostly because Sunny didn’t. She would hear voices in the hall … or outside in the parking lot … and she seemed to feel called upon to bark a warning. Sigh! What a coincidence that Patricia McConnell wrote a post on that very subject on that very day (November 14)! I read the whole article, although, as you might guess, getting a dog to stop barking is a long-term project, even for Patricia McConnell.

 

The good news was that the roads were clear on Tuesday morning, despite the very cold temperature in Liberal, Kansas: 20 degrees Fahrenheit, down from 50 two days earlier. Slush in the parking lot was frozen, footing treacherous. But we were on the road by 9 o’clock (Kansas time) and knocked off the Oklahoma panhandle in less than an hour. Even Dalhart, Texas, which I had dreaded because of all the giant trucks that converge on that area from all directions, was a snap! Going through Dalhart early in the day must be the secret to making it easy. Coming in at sunset is something you definitely want to avoid. 

 

But then – back to my opening image – came New Mexico. Mountain time. High plains, then mesalands. And because I hadn’t slept well, and because fatigue must be cumulative, and also because the sun was shining and I had time, if only I was willing to take it, I decided to slow down and spend the afternoon and evening in dear little Santa Rosa.

Everywhere, wonderful buildings and walls made of lovely local stone!

The Artist and I, in our years of traveling together, often – more often than not -- explored without a plan, and that’s what I found myself doing on Tuesday afternoon. River Road. Had we ever been out River Road? Where was the river? 

 

A sign for a fish hatchery caught my eye, inviting me into a parking lot. I thought of the hatchery at Wolf Lake west of Kalamazoo and the one at Thompson in the U.P., where a friend worked before he retired. Does it sound funny to say that fish hatcheries were part of our “love world”?

(Where the fish are raised)

This one turned out to be (as many are) every bit as much education center as hatchery, and it revealed itself to me in stages. First I was drawn to a signboard illustrating birds that one could expect to see. And then to a sort of blind, with viewing windows that framed the scenes beyond to resemble paintings.

 

A more elaborate building gave information about the Pecos River watershed. No, I didn’t photograph every display, but the ones below should give you some idea of how well the education component is put together.

 

Already impressed and pleased with what I'd found, I noticed a footpath along a fence, and that called to me, as well. Sunny, wearing her new harness, was doing just fine on-leash, so we followed the path. I loved the long overland view, back toward dear little Santa Rosa.

But more awaited. Of course! The Pecos River itself! 

When we encountered a couple of Game and Fish employees clearing brush, Sunny was eager to make friends. The young woman said she had a Great Pyrenees at home, only three days younger than Sunny, and the young man told me his dog, a heeler mix, was only accustomed him and not to anyone else. Although Sunny wanted to jump on these people (we still need to work on that), she was friendly and sociable in a way the two dog-lovers seemed to find quite winsome. 

All in all, our afternoon exploring worked out very well – exercise, a social encounter, and beautiful views of a lovely little river. I only wish the Artist, a.k.a. River Rat, could have been there, because he would have loved it all! And nothing is the same without him.

Stops and Thoughts Along Life's Roads

When our pack is on the road, obviously we don’t stop in every single little town along the way. That would be impossible even when if we always eschewed interstate routes and took nothing but two-lane highways, because what if there were a little town every 20 or 30 miles? It would take forever to travel just from Northport to Grand Rapids! But you know I am a big fan of both two-lane roads and small towns, and we’ve seen quite a few of them in the past several days.

From Arizona to Missouri (and beyond, but we’re only as far as Missouri at present), many towns bypassed by interstate highways and left to die on the vine beat the drum for old Route 66. After all, if they were on that old road, they’ve at least got that to spin, though it won’t bring enough business to revitalize all the boarded-up restaurants and abandoned, derelict motels once so lively with families on the move. Because the interstate wasn’t the only element of “progress” working against the little towns. Cars became faster and covered more miles a day. Motor homes became popular. When one era segues into another, changes don’t occur singly. Instead, each one brings on others, resulting in a landslide effect.

Willcox, Arizona, was passed by when I-10 came along, and the passenger train that roars through doesn't stop at Willcox any more, either. Most people never see more of Willcox than the gas stations and fast food joints at the interstate exchange. One of my friends from Tucson said that’s all she had ever seen, and I told her she must take Rex Allen Drive, old Hwy 186, to the “old town” across from Railway Park. There are four wineries with tasting rooms within walking distance of the park. There is a movie theatre. There are new shops this year that weren’t there three years ago. The Rex Allen Museum is worth a visit even if you’re not a fan of Western movies and draw a blank when someone says the name “Rex Allen” to you. And anyway (my ace), Willcox is, after all, the gateway to the Chiricahua National Monument! So slow down, stop, stay a while!

Then there is Santa Rosa, New Mexico. I’ve written about Santa Rosa before, too, so I won’t repeat everything I’ve written before. You can follow the link to read my take on Santa Rosa and/or go to the town’s website to see what they find noteworthy about themselves. 

While I don’t want to repeat myself too much, however, I have to say again (now that I’ve brought it up) how utterly charming I find Santa Rosa, and I’m pleased to report that this time around, to my great satisfaction, the Artist felt the magic, too. We drove around town, as we have developed the habit of doing (this is our third or fourth visit), admiring stone walls and adobe brick homes -- driving by one of my favorite little houses again, too -- and speculating on that. I commented that Santa Rosa, though obviously struggling economically, has all kinds of potential and a lot of already actualized lovely features. Besides its Route 66 history (which is, after all, hardly unique to Santa Rosa) and beautiful old civic buildings, the little town is naturally blessed with the Pecos River, El Rito Creek, spring-fed Park Lake, and the famous Blue Hole, an artesian well popular with serious divers and fun-loving families alike.

On this particular trip, we came through Santa Rosa on a warm, sunny day and found both Park Lake and the Blue Hole swarming with happy people. Both places were such a pleasant scenes, it was hard to tear ourselves away, and we have still never made it north of town to the Santa Rosa State Park, where the really big lake is. If we hadn’t been making our way east in a window of clear weather, following tornadoes the week before, the Artist said he would have liked to stay and spend a couple of days in Santa Rosa. “We’ll have to come back,” we said to each other. The next time I’ll have a bathing suit with me, for sure! And I hope we're there when the corner cafe on courthouse square will be open, because the old business was closed on our first visit, on our second time through (in January) we were a few days too early for the new Grand Opening, and this time we were there on the wrong day. But Santa Rosa, we shall return!

Back on the Big Road (sigh!), we made it all the way to McLean, Texas, by the end of our driving day. When we arrived there were no cars in the parking lot and a sign on the door telling us what phone number to call. "What if they don't take dogs?" I asked, then answered my own question: "They'd be fools to turn us away!" 

As it turned out, however, we got the last available room! A wedding party had booked the rest and would arrive after the reception. David asked if it would be a raucous evening but was told no, they were a religious family. And indeed, we had a calm, tranquil stay. 

What a sweet little place! The room was huge, towels enormous and soft and thick, and the in-room coffee pot made twelve full cups! We sat outside in the last light of the day and felt perfectly content. “This is perfect,” we agreed. 

In the morning we made our way downtown for breakfast, and we did find a restaurant open and started our day with a hearty meal. There was also another little combination cafe/store, a regular grocery store, one gas station, and a museum (not open on Sunday morning).

But oh, the empty storefronts! What a heartbreak! I remember Northport’s dark days and how woebegone everyone was, and it was nothing like this!

Before leaving, we bought gas in McLean, as we had in Santa Rosa, although we knew it would probably be cheaper at a big interstate exchange, because we wanted to do our part, and as we made our way down the road, we brainstormed ideas for revitalizing small towns across America. We had some good ideas, too. But I wonder. Are we dreaming of a past that will never live again, an America our grandchildren will never know? A place with vibrant small town life from coast to coast and border to border? I have a lot more to say and write on this subject, but now it's morning and time to get back on the road again.

Introducing Santa Rosa, My Favorite New Mexico Town

Getting off the Interstate at Santa Rosa puts one on old Route 66, and the town is one of many along the old road to encourage tourism by showcasing the 1950s. We stopped for a bite to eat -- the old Santa Rosa Cafe no longer in business -- and found the Route 66 Restaurant still going strong. It was “Taco Tuesday,” too! How cool! Plus, the young nine- or ten-year-old girl helping her grandmother at the cash register loved my Dr. Seuss t-shirt, so all in all, we had a good initial experience and decided to spend the night.

It was early enough that we had plenty of time to explore around town after checking in at a motel.

As is true of most of the towns along old Route 66, the old business strip along the old route through Santa Rosa has fallen from its former glory, and many commercial buildings are vacant, some with a long-abandoned look. (The east end of the strip has more going on than the west.) On the west end of the strip this sign confused me --

-- until I read in La Frontera that menudo is "the world's only reliable hangover cure." That makes sense of serving it in the morning with donuts, doesn't it?

We cruised from one end to the other several times and also through the downtown to find the post office and admire the county government buildings.

While housing in Santa Rosa is neither big nor ostentatious, the place is no ghost town. An apparent range of small middle-class homes line pleasant neighborhood streets. The tiny, empty one above, however, was our favorite, its stone wall typical of many properties in the town. There are also many adobe-style houses, and altogether it looked like a very pleasant place to live.

El Rito Creek

But the best part of Santa Rosa is the water. Not only does the Pecos River run through town, with its lively tributary El Rito Creek, both running deep with water (not just rocks, sand and, dust), but there are also numerous lakes and ponds and springs, all with clear, fresh, beautiful water. In the morning we took a closer look. At Park Lake, where water fun is clearly the theme, I was sure I detected a bubbling spring beneath the sparkling surface, which would certainly explain the astonishing clarity of the water. 

Park Lake

Over at the Blue Hole Fishing Ponds, we had a charming encounter with a pair of ducks whose differences made no difference whatever to them,

The Blue Hole!

but it was at the Blue Hole itself that we met real excitement. One of my sisters tells me that the Blue Hole is famous among divers, and we were fortunate enough to come upon a pair of divers preparing to go down the 81-foot hole and explore tunnels leading off it. They said they would be down only 30-45 minutes, which sounded like a long time underwater to me.

The Sun and Sand Motel is no longer in business, but the restaurant is still open, with a Route 66 theme (naturally), and plenty of Mexican dishes on the menu, so what better to order for breakfast than huevos rancheros? I was asked if I wanted red chilis, green chilis, or "Christmas." "Christmas" is both red and green, so of course that's what I chose, because it was a new experience beckoning. Also, please note that that is not a bottle of beer on the table but a beer bottle transformed into a salt shaker. 

There are bigger, fancier towns in New Mexico, but I have to say that if I were moving to the state, Santa Rosa would be my #1 choice. David and I both found it very refreshing, and Sarah, while not allowed into the Blue Hole, enjoyed her stroll in the vicinity -- and she was fascinated earlier at the fishing bonds by those ducks. It was 11 a.m. before we tore ourselves away, all three of us having had a very interesting and satisfying time.