¡Adiós, New Mexico!

The van squirreled between The Big Red Mountain and The Green Mountain.
Even the mountains were served "Christmas".

The pesky threat of wildfires meant that Carson National Forest was closed.
But I had to sneak under the caution tape at Palisades Sill to touch the cool stream at the foot of its dramatic cliffs.
The chill in the air made me laugh.
I hadn't used the AC since Albuquerque.

The jagged green of Cimarron State Park gave way to a long yellow stretch of plains.  
Ruminating plains.

I saw a lot for seeing so little.
Mountains, desert, forest, plains, rivers, streams.
Goofy motels, funny bars, crazy meals.
Sun-bleached hay hairdoos, framing faces like thatched roofs.
Rockabilly bouffants on women over 40.
An adobe Denny's.
Horses, elk, dogs in pick up trucks.

On this long yellow stretch I thought some crummy teenagers had lined the highway with empty beer bottles.
Funny prank, guys.
Then the bottles moved.
Agh!
Prairie dogs!


I liked you, New Mexico.
You little piece of ass.