Peace Tex-ass

Day Eight: Abilene TX to Carlsbad NM

•         216 miles

•         6 hours

•         277 N to 180 W

•         Time zone: Mountain

•         # of bobcats seen: 1

“Ninety miles an hour, girl, is the speed I drive” - Jimi Hendrix

The day begins reluctantly at 4 am. Again, we have to make it across a serious expanse of desert before the heat catches us. Leaving Dallas at 6 am turned out to be too late in the day, so we've decided to be on the road at 5. That gives us a whole hour of dark. The sunrise in the desert is indeed stunning, but is ultimately suggestive the heat yet to come.

At sunrise we pass through another patch of giant wind mills. They are beautiful in the dark- each one has its own red light at the top, so it looks like an expanse of flashing red fireflies. The sun rose just as we were in their midst. In the first few moments of light, we catch a bobcat loping across the road and watch it shimmy through a fence.  Antelopes are still grazing in the pastures.

I have to admit, I'm totally sick of Texas. It's taking forever to get through, it's hot as hell, and boring. It feels like some sort of hazing-like we have to pass this test before we can get to the good stuff. We blast at 90 mph just to get out of here. R. Girls runs wide open like it ain't nothin'. She's sick of Texas too.

We stop in Lamesa for gas and breakfast. With no other choice, we finally get to try one of these “Donut” places I've been seeing everywhere.  Apparently it's a Texas phenomenon. This place has 3 names: the Donut Stop, Good Morning Donuts and Morning Glory Donuts. The interesting thing about these places if that they serve something they call “Kolache”. Again with my Hungarianism, the kolache I know is a rolled pastry made with yeasty dough and filled with either poppy seeds, dried fruit or walnuts. It's rolled out long and then cut into slices. The “Donut” kolache an overly sweet yeast roll wrapped around a hot dog. Different.

Around 10 am we pass under a huge bright yellow sign announcing that we are now in New Mexico! Hooray! I have a special love for this state. In 1997 at 22 years old I moved out here with my dearest friends in the world; a shout out to Tracy, Nick, Damian, James and Abby!! We all lived in Albuquerque, and that's where I went to massage school. I lived out here for 9 months, and that was enough to be under the spell of this beautiful state, whose motto is 'the land of enchantment', forever. I'm thrilled to be out here again, this time with my true love the Pirate, who is gonna love NM like crazy.

By 11 am we are in Carlsbad and have found an RV park that has a cabin (which I fondly refer to as “the storage shed”) with A/C for a reasonable rate.  By noon we are tucking in to our first New Mexican meal. Being a trained Jedi master, the Pirate quite often uses The Force. Today he used it to find the locals only back street New Mexican restaurant “Rojos”. Lunch begins with chips and salsa (duh, you think). Ah yes, but these are thick yellow tortilla chips with house made salsa that actually has some heat to it. Then comes the tamale plate with peppery rice, pinto beans covered in melted cheddar and chewy house made flour tortillas. Then come the tacos; two shredded beef brisket and two pulled chicken (both smothered in green chiles) with fresh guacamole on house made corn tortillas. I look over at the Pirate, his eyes are closed, he's licking his fingers and humming every time he takes a bite. He's under the spell for sure. To be on the safe side, I order up some perfectly fried crispy on the outside chewy on the inside sopapillas that are as big as my face. We cover them in honey. We are officially over the edge.

 

For the rest of the day we “cave up” in the little cabin. I sit on the floor where it's a little cooler to write. It's blinding white hot outside, well over 100. The hot wind blows sand through the campground. Our cabin struggles to stay cool, and it seems that a whiskey on the rocks helps a lot. We swim in the indoor pool a little, I visit the miniature ponies, The Pirate replaces the spark plugs in R. Girl.

In the evening we head out for Carlsbad caverns, about 20 miles away. We're going to see the bat flight. The approach into the state park is 7 miles long. It's a beautiful drive through a desert canyon that is covered in all manner of prickly desert plants. Our drive today is heartbreaking though, as this 7 mile stretch has just burned. All of the plants are scorched black, and in the setting sun look like shards of glass. It is the very image of Hell, so much so that I expect to see a band of nekkid red pecker'd devils out there dancing a jig.

The bat flight is incredible. There is a stone amphitheater where everyone gathers.  In my opinion, there are two locations to best observe an accurate cross section of  average Americans: Walmart and state parks in the summer. A park ranger threatens our lives if we have any (any) electronic devices on when the bats come out. She explains that these bats (Mexican Free Tail) live a ½ mile into the cave, and their commute to the outside is about 5 minutes. There is a sensor in the cave that will detect their movement, and let us know when they are coming. She talks and talks, and everyone is waiting to hear this sensor go off. Finally, we hear little squeaky beeps coming from the speaker perched in the rocks, and we know their on their way. It's just a few at first; so delicate and light, like something being blown in the wind. Everyone is silent (a miracle). Within minutes the sky is full of tiny bats fluttering like black butterflies, up and over the ridge. Dusk is falling and everything, the reds and oranges and ochres and scorched blacks of this desert, looks blue. If I lived out here, I would watch these bats emerge every night. It feels sacred.