Roswell: June 28 "The Truth is Out There. In Roswell."

When we were leaving Carlsbad, we decided we had two very different options. Either head through White Sands area and then through Arizona (Tuscon & Phoenix before Grand Canyon and Sedona) OR head through Roswell to see Santa Fe & Albuquerque - more of New Mexico and less Arizona. I was thinking the UFO Museum in Roswell may be more entertaining than the white sands, so we ended up turning this way instead of that.

As we entered the town of Roswell this was the view:

 Before getting into the downtown strip, we didn't see any of the alien paraphernalia we were hoping for. Just a dusty desert town.

We only arrived with 15 minutes to spare before closing time, although KG was assured it would be "more than enough". The ticket salesmen even gave us 2-4-1. Which was much appreciated.

We ran through and snapped these shots just in time to leave as the closing announcement came on. It. Is. Quite. A. "Museum". Museum AND international research center, so the signs say.

There is a fancy display in the middle of the room -- the UFOs actually spin and play eerie whistle-y music and flash different colors every 5 minutes or so.

The museum is like a warehouse room with cubicle walls around the edges.... on which seem to be tacked art and essay projects from the 4-H fair, 5-12 year old division. Then there are some more fake dead alien bodies thrown in for good measure. These are what aliens look like. Based on international research, the movies were right!

After skimming through the printed out copies of picture proof of UFOs and letters from abductees, as I was about to exit the room I was glad I didn't miss the final display wall - it contained further International UFO Reasearch: X-Files posters. I knew watching that show as our weekly treat through childhood was important.

We decided to take a stroll through their downtown strip. Not having seen as much kitch alien-ness on the drive into town as we expected, we assumed this strip at least would not be lacking in alien kitch-ness. We were right.

They're playing cards.

 The Pleidians are like.. a 3 piece alien Beatles. Right?

Besides all the alien invasion inspired visuals, we also took in an extraordinarily large moth/butterfly and an other-worldly building in the distance.

 An interesting (and admittedly, to my perception a tad on the creepy side) little town in the dusty corner of America's history. After our hour long entertaining pit stop, it was time to keep rolling west.

Yet, as we drove down the strip back towards the wild open spaces... we had the A/C on (well over a hundred degrees still and feelin' it) and I began to smell some nasty fumes comin' out. K told me I was simply paranoid, an over protective worrisome mother of this powerful beast of a Scuttlebuss. I said, hey now. This smells bad. I know this puppy. Let's pull her over and take a look. K transitioned from: "It smells fine." to: "I don't think that's our van." to: "It'll go away." to: "It's probably fine...  but if you really think we should pull over...." Yes. I do. Here, at this Autozone. Maybe ask a couple of precautionary questions to these automobile type folk (which we are not).
We pull in and pop the hood. We hear bubbling... our engine coolant is close to empty and doing the boiling dance of the overheated. We had noticed when driving through 110 degrees out of Texas and into New Mexico that the engine temperature did climb a bit, which seemed only reasonable. Now, we know nothing of boiling coolants and felt somewhat nervous the whole thing could explode or some such disaster. So we go into AutoZone to find an employee who may be of some use.
What we instead found was a condescending creepy employee who kept telling us what we later found out to be incorrect information and calling us "Dude" and "Ese" every few words. He told us we could need a new thermostat. He told us we could need a new water pump. He told us to put in undiluted coolant, even though it says on the van to only ever use 50/50. We didn't listen to him. We bought the 50/50, called a few more car savvy folk and thought about our next move. We should have learned from previous experience: an Autozone worker in Tenessee told us to ignore the pressure our tire told us it should be, since we have a heavy load and they looked low he told us to fill them up to 50 (instead of the 35 it reads on the tires). We did, and then our tire exploded from over inflation on the way to Florida. AutoZone employees are not mechanics.

Mechanics were now closed (it was after 6) and we considered staying in Roswell to have it looked at the next morning. And yet, this place (and this Dude) was skeezing us out a bit... we felt that if we drove no faster than 70 and didn't run the A/C (since that's where the smell was coming from), we could get to our next location. It would be either Albuquerque or Santa Fe, both options would be bigger places with less of a chance to be scammed by scary alien town residents. (No offence to any Rosewell-iens that may be reading.)

We planned to head to Albuquerque potentially skipping Santa Fe. Then en route we realized it was exactly the same amount of driving to either location so we decided to check out Santa Fe first and get our Scuttlebuss looked at there. The van made it just fine... little did she (or we) know she'd need to be relied on to drive us away from strange situations out of Santa Fe soon enough.... adventure awaited us, little did we know what kind.

Carlsbad Caverns: June 27th. "Breaking (Carls)Bad"

It was our first desert drive. It seemed as though all the people we know had warned us of the constant potential danger of the desert, and it may have given both of us a semi subconscious unease about it. This Scuttlebuss has been treating us well, thought we, but it's also never met The Desert. None of us really have. I went to Arizona for a short while when I was six or so, but I wouldn't call that much "experience". We had tons of water. Our gas tank was full. We got our our oil changed. We felt ready.

Our first stop in the desert experience was to be Carlsbad Caverns. We had recently had our first big cave excursion in Kentucky: Mammoth Caves. Those are the largest explored caves in the world -- around 400 miles explored and they think around 250 more unexplored. When we toured those, we chose the self guided option and it only allowed a short stroll... they were large and open and impressive but we weren't able to explore any of the variety of scenery within.

Carlsbad Caverns we assumed to be more of the same, or perhaps less so -- they aren't "Mammoth", you know. We heard they were cool and we figured it would be a good first desert stop from San Antonio   but weren't sure what to think beyond that.

The drive through Texas was long, hot and arduous, precisely as expected due to how many people you hear talk about it being long, hot and arduous. So long, hot and arduous in fact that it was around 110 the entire drive. In order to not experience extreme discomfort as life and color left the scenery, we ran the A/C pretty consistently the entire way... [MAKE NOTE OF THIS. THIS WILL COME INTO PLAY IN THE NEXT BLOG.]

On the road, we researched where to camp for free. We heard The Desert was a plethora of BLM public land to just throw your tent on. We also read on the website for the Caverns that you could get a backcountry permit to camp in the area from the visitor's center. So, we drove to the caverns (just before close, no more tours) to see. As soon as you enter the national park area there is a sign that states clear as day NO OVERNIGHT CAMPING. Do we turn around and go somewhere else after all this driving, or do we drive the 7 miles up the mountain to check out the area and get more information? Well, there's nowhere to turn around so decision MADE. We drive up the mountain. I'm grouchy. However, it's already probably one of the most beautiful sights we've seen on this journey.

When we get to the visitor center we ask the woman at the information desk where there is BLM land for us to camp on nearby. She tells us a road name and some fairly simple directions. I also notice a sign that says "Bat Show. 7:30. Free." The option of something to see and do up on this mountain after closing time makes me feel much better. We did just drive 7 winding miles up this thing and it sure would lose appeal if we had to turn right back around with nothing and repeat the trip in the morning (and perhaps one more day). We wait the hour or so until the bat show is to begin. Documented our first day on the desert mountain:

 We're not really sure what to expect, apparently bat numbers are dwindling from what they once were and are also very inconsistent day to day. We sat by the entrance to the cave and listened to the ranger answer questions before "the show". One of his queries happened to be: "These here aren't the largest caverns yet discovered.. does anyone happen to know where the largest longest discovered caves are?" We both sheepishly nod, knowing we do. I poke K to be braver than I and yell out from the front row: "Kentucky." "Yes! That's right. Know what those are called?" I've worked up enough courage to respond as well. "Mammoth Caves." "And do you know how many miles have been discovered there?" "They said around 600?" He audibly scoffed. "No. About 400." I thought they told us six... I ashamedly mumbled. The distinction is they said there are thought to BE 600 miles to explore, but they've only actually been through around 400. By the way, here is the bat cave:

We had to turn off our phone to not throw off the bat's magical powers and waited for constant beeps through speakers that were sensing the nightly exodus. The ranger had told us the number of bats can range from a handful to thousands (used to be millions) and we weren't sure what to expect. They came little by little, than more and more. No one made a peep, just as we were told. As the sky grew darker and darker people began to slowly leave the show. At times the bat would fly right over your head. On our way back to the Scuttlebuss, we even saw what I initially thought was a raccoon but upon further research we think was a  desert ring tail cat. The evenings events certainly made me feel better about the too-late arrival.

When we left the bats to their hunting we went to hunt ourselves out a free camp spot. It was now our first dark desert experience. Without much confident knowledge of where to go. Without having had dinner. Without having been around the area. We found what we thought was the BLM street the woman had told us about... but as we had previously noted, there were oil refineries everywhere in these desert fields. Signs about companies owning areas, fences off the side of the road blocking you from feeling the land is "free" and "safe". Visions of angry desert ranchers with firearms awakening us the next morning in place of coffee filled our minds. The van life stress and unease came out, and after some driving and discussing back and forth (and just looking at the dusty and potentially unfriendly looking desert vastness -- pokey things everywhere, you see) we decided to go home. You know what we mean by now. Walmart.

It was about a half hour drive back in the direction away from the mountain we'd need to re-climb in the morning. Ah well. It offers a comfort level that can't be met when sleeping between an oil refinery and a cactus.

We popped in for dinner (turkey slices, a banana and some yogurt. It worked) and decided to enjoy the relaxed legal luxuries of our parking lot house -- turn on the laptop and watch us some Breaking Bad. What extraordinary comfort we have found in journeying through the seasons of that show in our van house around the country. Breaking Bad has become a kind of home on the road. (Currently on season 4.)
However, before the episode began we realized the sound of electric guitar shredding was floating through our ears from somewhere nearby. Turns out, it's a crazy desert man standing in the Walmart entrance and rippin' out the solos for potential tips. The desert is weird.

The next morning we headed back up that mountain. Before venturing into the caves we made some photographic documentation of the experience.

We headed down into the caverns, and were quickly blown away by the level of variety found below. The Mammoth Caves were beautiful, but as mentioned previously we didn't get to explore much on our self guided tour -- this self guided tour took us 3 hours and was full of all kinds of magical sights. Pictures (particularly these pictures) can't communicate the magic so well.. I recommend you take a stroll into the magic yourself.

 

Did you notice the shot of the cave bathrooms? Halfway through our journey -- and it was becoming a real problem for KG (not me for once), so they were an interesting and useful sight to see.

When we were purchasing our tickets for the cave (yes, I'm moving backwards in this story as opposed to strolling up and typing this information where it belongs) we were torn between spending $10 each for a 3 day pass to the cavers OR buying an "America The Beautiful" national park pass. Which is $80 and would get us into any national park/forest/monument for a year. KG was convinced it would be more economical in the long run.. we were still considering going to Yosemite (we didn't), planning to go to the Grand Canyon, Redwood National Forest, Yellowstone and more sights we may see along the way. GC, Yosemite & Yellowstone are all $25/car, so I went for it.... keep this story in mind for future blogs (I'll give you a hint... we haven't been charged to enter national parks as often as we'd hope after pre-paying...)

The Caverns sort of blew our minds, pals. It was really something. Probably the coolest "first stop through the desert" we could have possibly done. Highly recommended. Plus, they are "cool" -- a nice constant 58 degree relief from the 110 degree weather outside. Although there really is something to that "dry heat" business.

By the way. The Caverns are actually a bit outside of Carlsbad... Carlsbad itself being the strip of chains (Walmart, phew) etc... a pretty terrible non-place, but even those can be a comfort in: THE DESERT.

Next the two travel companions roll on through Roswell -- and The Scuttlebuss expresses her desert stress.