Cosmic Campground, New Mexico to Taos. With potty stops in-between.

My buddy, VermontChris, decided my indoor ways had gone on long enough. She invited me to join her at Cosmic Campground, a (very) Dark Sky area.

There are rules at CC, including turning your flashlight into a red light. We had the joint to ourselves, so we did what we wanted. There is much made of dark sky locations; the truth is, there are still many areas in New Mexico where the skies are as dark as skies get. That doesn't detract from the dark-sky-i-ness of this campground, of which there was a lot.

Also a Dark Cow area.

This is an unloading rule...

...loosely enforced.

Spud still has the right stuff.

It's rare when my cabin is "on the way" to anywhere, so I took advantage. Chris is still trying to explain how to take a selfie.

Quite a bit of my time is spent with other people's pets. It's one of the few jobs where clients climb onto your lap or lick your face, but it pays far less than those other career options.

Carly

Cassie

My roommate was injured in a dogwalking incident, and has looked something like this for two weeks. She has CUR-TAILED* her activities since then, and adjustments have been made.

*Puns in capitals are larger than they appear.

"Hello. You've reached the floor of Janice."

With Janice not driving, and even some laying in the back seat, from the position and velocity of the clouds she can tell I'm driving too fast, and in the wrong direction.

Paco is full of dog. In fact, he is MADE of dog.

Paco is one of the four big dogs I stayed with last, along with Oso, Chinita, and Seca (no pics??).

Corrales, New Mexico

Corrales is an unexpected pleasure just north of Albuquerque. Rural, with beautiful properties on the river, and some fun shopping. Twenty-five MPH speed limit is strictly enforced (I've heard).

This week, Janice and I are sharing a catsitting job in Taos. Last time we were in Taos it was brilliant Autumn. This time, it's vibrant Spring. Darn the luck, Taos in the shoulder months.

I ventured out yesterday in my role as Material Girl. Release the kraken (Visa)! Like Wilma and Betty always said, "CHAAARGE it!"

I was going to tell you that Taos drivers are reckless and desperate, but we see things as we are. Instead, I'll describe them as bold and daring. Taos has outgrown its roads, and boldness is sometimes the only way across the street.

In the past I've spent many an internet hour at the Taos Public Library. This time, I'm enjoying the luxury of WiFi inside a house with 360-degree mountain range views, filled with one of my favorite artist's work.

Sophia, the Head Cat, is the most resistant to coming inside at night. We go outside and pretend to stare into a gopher hole until she's intrigued enough to see what's what. NAB!

Another couple of days, and we'll be back in Truth or Consequences. I'll be enjoying a sweet gray cat and the Rio Grande flowing past my morning coffee-couch. Don't hate me because I'm lucky and a little gloaty.

Where the cars are Smart, and the drivers smarter.

Just another Buick in the wall.

You don't need no education! You might get some contact learning, though, so keep your Benadryl handy.

Car camping got popular in the 1920s, when people needed vacations, but couldn't bear to leave their Fords in Dodge.

 Library of Congress LC-USZ62-41022 

She's asking the question that still plagues me. You know, don't you?*

These folks were the pioneers of car-campers. The Rough Riders of roughing it. Their smartphones have dead batteries, but look at the fun they're having! Somebody back East is saying, "Why don't they write?"

Library of Congress LC-USZ62-47337

Still asking.*

In 1919, there was a caravan of 50 cars, even one built to refrigerate food (still not answering that one pulsing, unsilenceable question*).

This article is rekindling the glowing embers of my interest in boondocking in Spud. I'm just in no hurry. I'm comfortable, contemplative, content, and continent.








*"Where do I poop?" 

You'll offer me good, sturdy answers. These answers will work in a car (not a van), with people possibly in the vicinity, without benefit of vault toilets.

Sedona Heatwave is not just a Thai entrée

I've spent the last few nights in Flagstaff. I can explain: Annie needed a slight assist to get the motorhome and her loaner vehicle up to Flagstaff to avoid authoritarian conflict. Since the loaner wasn't set up to be towed, it was a two-person job.

I am "borrowing" Annie's picture of the site, because my brain and clicky-finger were stunned by the temperatures. The rest of me was wondering what the H-E-double-toothpicks I was doing there when I could be anywhere but Flagstaff. Or IN Flagstaff, but indoors (thanks, Cousins!).

So, you know I have a patented, secret (I'll tell you) method for staying warm in Spud. I added some deluxe features to the package the past couple of days. I lay on a metallicized sheet, then add fluffy layers of down QUACK! on top. The final slice of blanket is another reflective sheet, with the reflection pointed toward me.

In cases of extreme cold, or need for privacy, I add a reflective panel to the hatch window, and the hatch gets closed. The Reflectix is covered with black fabric, so from the outside it doesn't look like you can't see in. It just looks like there's nothing to see. Then I add blackout curtains behind the front seats. This retains heat, but also moisture, so that I need to crack a couple of windows.

I won't go into my boudoir wardrobe. I'll leave that to your voyeuristic imagination. I'll just drop risqué hints, like "there are multiple layers," and "how do you like my insulated ski hat?"

Tonight I'm a couple thousand feet lower and forty miles souther, at a campsite WITH A TOILET - huzzah.

The following pictures are sad. They are the documentation of the death of my Pentax point-and-shoot. There was a nasty grinding sound that was too familiar, and the end of auto-focus as I know it.

If you have a suggestion for a durable, awesome, slim point-and-shoot camera, let me have it. No, the camera. Hand it over. When I get a replacement, you'll know it because there will be pictures on my blog again.

I met a nice man tonight who sized up my situation with a glance. That's both kind and disconcerting. I'd like to retain the look of a Lady Out Camping! as opposed to the look of a Lady Living in Her Car. I think it's because he's a full-timer, too, and so knows the signs. It's the way you can tell if an RV at Walmart is out for the weekend, or out for the duration.

It made me think about the question of being alright. I'm certainly alright tonight, with plenty left over to head over into excellent. There have been nights when I was not alright, but still fine. The not-fine part wasn't reality. But, that's true of you, too.

Then I thought about those nights feeling not-alright, and I wonder what would have happened if someone had asked me then. It was good they didn't; what fresh hell would they have unleashed on themselves? [shudder]

I drove through Prescott Valley and Prescott today, but didn't stop anywhere. I'll go again, and look really hard so I can draw you word pictures.

I hope you're all alright tonight.