Three Rivers Petroglyphs, Carrizozo, and surprise mystery guests. Too many pictures.

I was feeling the need for a little getaway, and Carrizozo was it. I grabbed a willing friend, and we headed up Hwy 1 north. If you're used to taking 25, this is an entirely different experience.

We had heard from a friend of a friend of a trucker that Santa Fe Diner and Truck Stop had good food. Giddy with freedom and emboldened by adventure, we stopped in for breakfast -- smothered burritos generous with HOT green chiles. We'll come back to this.

Carrizozo could use a little more local color. And burros.

The purple courtyard is one way into the Malkerson Gallery. Pia invited us in and was very cordial, despite me buying nothing, and probably touching one of her sculptures.

Before leaving home, I had a strong impulse to pack fresh underwear and pants. I try to listen to my weirdo compulsions, but this was too crazy. I compromised with myself by packing baby wipes in my purse. We'll come back to this.

I have burned ruts in the road between Carrizozo and Alamogordo, but had never seen Three Rivers Petroglyphs. This was the day! I greased Volunteer Gary's palm with $5, and that bought us a parking spot and admission to the petroglyphs. If you go, do prepare to hike a bit - bring water, a walking stick, sturdy shoes, a sturdy friend. 

It was strenuous enough that I needed to call it good-enough about halfway, but I was sorry to disappoint my friend who is fitter than I am. She was gracious, though, and said she had business back at the visitor's center anyway. She tried to stay behind to help me, but finally sprinted ahead. Occasionally, she would stop as though in wonder at the majestic Sacramento Mountain vista. Sprint. Repeat awe. We'll come back to this.

Roxanne: I just thought of something REALLY FUNNY.

Hiking partner: DO NOT TELL ME ANYTHING FUNNY.

Please enjoy too many pictures of petroglyphs. The BLM says there are 21,000 at this site; now a couple dozen doesn't sound so bad, does it?

Just a little bunny ...

Don't worry about me getting down off the ridge. Left to my own devices I employ unpretty methods that work just fine. They're the kind of maneuvers that make a hiking partner uncomfortable, so I save them for the solo times.

But, about uncomfortable hiking partners ... I was glad to see her enjoying her rapid descent, punctuated by the absolute stillness of a rapt visitor to the unfathomable beauty of New Mexico scenery. More downward speed, more enjoyment of nature. A final desperate sprint toward the finish line just in time to transact her urgent business in the park office. 

Friends, New Mexico green chiles are not to be trifled with. Please enjoy responsibly. 

To cleanse your visual palate, I have saved a few shots.

Beautifully-focused weed with photobombers behind.

Someone's watching us.
Where??

Where???
You're hilarious.

I don't see anyone ...
That joke never gets old.

We were so close that we drove on into the Three Rivers BLM campground in the Lincoln National Forest. It's beautiful, and at $6/night, a real camping bargain. 

A quick stop at the chapel on Chapel Road, Santa de los Ninos ...

... and we were done seeing stuff.

Then a honeybee stung me. There I was, depleting the population. I pondered the consciousness of honeybees, and would it have stung me if it knew it had one shot?

We were happily on our way back to TorC, arriving just twelve hours after we started.