I take about two weeks to explore southwestern New Mexico.

I’ve been going south for the winter ever since I moved to Washington State in 2013. (Before that, when I lived in Arizona, I went north for the summer starting in 2008.) I usually spend most of my time in Arizona, although there’s a hot spring in California that I like. And, of course, in the winters of 2022/23 and 2023/24, I was on my boat in the southeastern US, spending an awful lot of time in Florida. (You can learn more about that in the My Great Loop Adventure blog where I’ve written quite a bit about that trip.)

The Backstory for My Trip to New Mexico

Last year, I came dangerously close to buying a 5-acre piece of land southeast of Tucson, AZ. It was partially developed with a driveway, a building pad, and a well and was close to electricity for an easy hookup. And views! Although they weren’t as good as my current views, I certainly could have lived with them.

You see, I’m looking for a year-round home. I love where I live, but I absolutely abhor it in December, January, and February. It’s not the cold — after all, the temperature isn’t that bad. And it’s not the snow, which is actually kind of pretty. It’s the short daylight hours and the dreariness of the area’s winter inversions, which put my home above, inside, or just below the clouds four days out of seven. I definitely get SAD in the winter and the few times I’ve tried to stick around or delay my departure for points south have been maddening. No amount of Vitamin D or daylight light bulbs in my home can help.

Anyway, I got home in late January of 2025, right around the time the orange idiot in the White House started his reign of tariffs. The stock market, which was where just about all of my retirement money resided, was nose-diving. The cost of building materials, which I’d need to build a home, was skyrocketing — you know a lot of our lumber comes from Canada, right? The future looked very uncertain. If I bought a piece of land in Arizona, would I be able to build a home on it without tapping into my retirement investments? And then there were the crazy political antics in red states like Arizona. Did I really want to be part of that?

So I told the Realtor that I’d changed my mind due to economic uncertainty.

And I spent a very pleasant spring, summer, and autumn at home and on my boat cruising the San Juan Islands.

Meanwhile, the stock market had recovered and grown even, but I’d also moved a bunch of my investments into other securities, including FDIC-insured accounts. While TACO Don’s tariffs aren’t causing as much uncertainly these days, the crazy feeding of the AI bubble (and don’t fool yourself — it is a bubble and it’ll burst soon) has got me convinced that my investment values will fall before they rise much more. I have become more fiscally conservative since I have no idea what my portfolio will be worth a year from now and I have absolutely no desire to become a Walmart greeter after signing up for Medicare next year.

This Year’s Trip South

Of course, I planned to go south again this winter. I made arrangements with my house-sitter, who actually likes living in my house during the months I hate being there. (He’s a skier and there’s a ski resort in nearby Wenatchee, although he’s been pretty disappointed so far this year with the lack of snow.) On Thanksgiving, I rolled out on the long drive. By the first week of December, I was selling my work at the first of two definite (and a third possible) art shows and camping out in, of all places, the town where I used to live, Wickenburg, AZ.

I sent my drone up in Constellation Park to get a few shots of my campsite there. I spent 2 days on arriving in Wickenburg and then another 9 days after the art show. I was able to set up my jewelry studio and make a bunch of new jewelry=, including my first three turquoise rings.

But I also had plans to go to New Mexico.

You see, I buy most of my silversmithing supplies from a company called Rio Grande, which is based in Albuquerque, NM. One day, when I logged in to shop, I saw that they were offering tours of their facility. I love a behind-the-scenes look at anything, so I signed up. The date was December 18. I booked two nights in a nearby RV park and, on December 17, I rolled out of Wickenburg to start the nearly 500-mile drive to Albuquerque, treating myself for lunch at the Turquoise Room at La Posada in Winslow along the way. I rolled into my Albuquerque RV spot just before sunset the day before the tour.

I’d already decided to make my trip to Albuquerque the first stop of an exploration of New Mexico’s southwestern towns and cities. If I didn’t like the politics in Arizona, maybe I’d like New Mexico better. And maybe there was a town I’d actually like to move to, one that wasn’t so dreary in the winter. The only way to find out was to take a look and see.

And that’s how I wound up spending a week and a half exploring southwestern New Mexico.

Albuquerque, December 17-19

I started in Albuquerque. I wound up taking my bike the 1.6 miles to Rio Grande, where I was the only person on the tour. I walked around the facility with Sean, who showed me various parts of their manufacturing, receiving, and shipping departments. The one department that I wanted to see — the place where they cut metals to order — was not part of the tour because of security concerns. I was disappointed, but understand. This is the part of their facility that handles large quantities of precious metals, including gold, silver, and platinum. Although I was mostly interested in seeing the machines they used to measure, cut, and weigh the metals, it also would have been cool to be in a room with materials worth that much. Have you seen the prices of gold and silver lately? They’re outrageous.

A bar at the top of Rio Grande’s website pages shows the current market prices of four precious metals. These are the prices as of December 31, 2025. When I started silversmithing back around 2020, silver was under $30/ounce.

After the tour, I took my bike down to Old Town Albuquerque. (The route had me going through a few questionable neighborhoods, but I can ride pretty fast if I need to.) That’s where there was a square surrounded by a lot of touristy shops. I looked at a lot of authentic Native American jewelry, especially in a shop called Warpath Traders, that had dozens of squashblossom necklaces.

I did what I call an “RV refresh” before leaving the campground the next day. That includes dumping both waste tanks, rinsing the blackwater tank, and filling the water tank. I’d been plugged in for two days so my batteries were already fully charged. I also filled two 6-gallon water jugs since I wasn’t sure how long it would be before I stayed someplace with water again. My camper holds 30 gallons (I think) and I can make that last a week.

On the way out of town, I stopped at the Albuquerque Museum, which had a number of interesting exhibits. In addition to the local interest exhibits you’d expect, they also had an exhibit of German modern and political art from 1910 to 1945. Some of it was very interesting, including artist reactions against Hitler and the Nazis.

After some soup in the cafe, I left town, heading south.

Isleta Resort and Casino, December 19-20

I made reservations for a facial at the Isleta Resort and Casino, a casino complex that’s part of the Isleta Pueblo. The reservations were for Saturday morning at 10:30, but I figured I’d boondock overnight in the Casino’s truck and RV parking lot. (If you’re not familiar with the term, boondocking means parking an RV somewhere other than in a campsite or other place specifically intended for RV parking or camping. It’s usually free. My rig is set up for boondocking so I do as much as I can. Two or three nights of free camping pays for a facial.)

I got there a little earlier than I expected, but decided to just relax and take it easy. Although I wasn’t sure I was allowed to park there overnight, by nightfall I realized it was okay since I was joined by several trucks and RVs, all of which spent the night. The lot was huge and I was on one end of it so I had plenty of privacy and enough quiet.

I was one of a handful of boondockers at the casino that night.

In the morning, I got a shower bag together and went up to the resort around 9 AM. I took a little look around the hotel area and was pleased to see that there was no sign of gaming anywhere outside the casino. In fact, signs approaching the casino warned that people under 21 were not allowed.

I checked in at the spa, got the usual tour, was assigned a locker, and was shown where to wait at 10:20 for my treatment appointment. I wasted no time changing into my bathing suit — nudity is not allowed — rinsing off in a shower, and hitting the indoor jacuzzi. I was the only one there. After about 20 minutes soaking, I grabbed a towel and went outside to try the outdoor hot tub, which was considerably larger and equallly deserted. After 20 minutes there, it was back to the first tub for a while, then a good hot shower before putting on my spa robe and waiting for my facial.

The jacuzzi room on the ladies side of the spa. There was a steam room off to one side, but I did not use it. I can’t stand high humidity.

The facial was a full hour, but that doesn’t mean it was good. On a scale of 1 to 5, I’d give it a 3. (Oddly, the last facial I had was about a 2.5; I haven’t had a really good facial since a spa day at the Arizona Biltmore years ago.) She spent a lot of time putting creams on my face, massaging my hands and arms, and getting a shit-ton of cream in my hair when she massaged my scalp. There was no exfoliation or pore checking. And those warm hand and foot mitts and booties? Definitely not part of the program. (Maybe I should give it a 2.)

Afterwards, I got back on the road again, heading south along the I-25 corridor.

(Understand that I went south instead of north because although I do like Santa Fe and Taos and that whole area, it would not be suitable for a year-round home. Too high in elevation means too cold. So I was checking the southwest part of the state where the elevation got lower.)

I went through a handful of towns along the way and wasn’t impressed by any of them. I’d made an appointment at the Walgreens in Los Lunas for a pneumonia vaccine, but I arrived before their lunch break and they refused to give me a shot until afterward. I killed some time in the local Albertson’s, buying some groceries. When I finished stowing them in the camper, I still had an hour to wait. I didn’t want to wait. So I cancelled the appointment and continued on my way.

The Box, Socorro, December 20-22

I drove through the town of Socorro in late afternoon. There was a BLM campsite at a place called The Box about 8 miles away. I covered the distance quickly on State Route 60 — the same 60 that goes through Wickenburg, I think — and turned off pavement. About a half mile down the road was a parking area with a toilet at the mouth of a narrow canyon. I was the only one there, which seemed odd on a Saturday with beautiful weather right before Christmas. I maneuvered my rig to get a nice view of the canyon out my back window and parked for the night.

A view of my camper at the mouth of the Box, shot from a bit up the trail in golden hour light.

It was a nice, quiet night. No one came into the parking area, although a few vehicles did pass by on that gravel road, which wound up into the hills. I woke in the middle of the night and took a look outside; there were billions of stars in the sky.

In the morning, after my chores — mostly coffee and puzzles, breakfast, feeding dogs, and doing dishes — I put on my hiking shoes and set out with my pups on a trail that climbed one of the nearby hills. I wasn’t planning on going far, but every time I’d get to where I wanted to go, I’d see another feature a bit farther away and continue on. I wound up making a 2.8 mile out and back hike to the top of a small peak with great views. (Clicking this link will show you my path and photos.) At the top of the peak, I met up with two mountain bikers. We chatted and it turns out that one of them had built the trail I’d hiked on.

Back at the camper, I had lunch and relaxed for most of the afternoon. But around 3 PM, I decided to try moving the camper up into the hills. I wasn’t happy about the way the morning sun didn’t hit my solar panels until almost 9 AM where I was. So I moved it. I wound up somewhere other than I’d hoped to be, but it was a nice enough site with views down into the valley. In all honesty, I wasn’t worth moving and I should have stayed where I was.

The Very Large Array, December 22

Meanwhile, I’d been chatting with some friends on Mastodon — I had to use StarLink at both sites to connect to the Internet — and someone had suggested visiting the Very Large Array, which was about 35 miles west on route 60. Seemed like a good idea to me. So that’s where I headed on Monday morning, as soon as I was done with my chores.

It was an easy drive through high desert terrain. I started seeing the enormous dishes when I was still miles away. I can’t remember the exact numbers, but I think there are 28 dishes arranged in a Y-shaped formation. Each arm of the Y is up to 13 miles long.

I arrived at the visitor center at 9 AM, paid my $10 fee, put my phone in Airplane mode as requested, and watched the orientation video, which is also available on YouTube (recommended). Then I did the self-guided walking tour that takes you (eventually) up to the base of one of the telescopes. To my surprise, the entire array repositioned while I was standing beneath it. It happens slowly but is definitely noticeable. (And no, this wasn’t normal tracking. They were all pointed one way and then they were all pointed in an entirely different direction.)

I bought a mug and a few cards and a denim shirt. I wanted to support the facility, which is funded, in part by the federal government (don’t tell Trump). Then I left, back-tracking down to Socorro. I stopped along the way to get a propane bottled filled.

Truth or Consequences, Old Ladder Ranch Road, December 22-23

I continued south along the I-25 corridor, trying my hardest to stay off I-25. Route 1 took me south through “towns” that weren’t much more than names on a map. I was in the Rio Grande valley and there was a lot of agriculture. I saw picked cotton fields and alfalfa and nut trees. Nothing was worth stopping at. Then I was dumped onto I-25 — there was no other way south in this area — and took that to Truth or Consequences.

I was not impressed. The town was pretty much dead on that Monday afternoon. There were a few hot springs along the river, including one with a campground, and I drove past. But the campground looked impossible to get into and the whole area was crowded with people. I don’t like crowds. I couldn’t even find a restaurant that looked open. So after driving around town twice, I continued south.

There was a BLM site on one of my apps called Old Ladder Ranch Road just past TorC. I followed the direction to get to that. Big mistake. The road was in deplorable condition, with giant dried mud holes that really required proper tire placement to negotiate. (I know a lot of people with capable rigs who wouldn’t even try it.) But eventually I got to a nice campsite right on the Rio Grande River. I backed in and parked for the night.

My campsite was right on the Rio Grande, which wasn’t much more than a stream.

It was a nice site because it was quiet, private, and right on the river, which wasn’t much more than a stream. (I know I could have walked across it.) I let my dogs run around — supervised, of course. I wasn’t fooling myself. There would be predators in the area. I got confirmation of that early the next morning when it sounded like a pack of coyotes howling and yipping right across the river.

Leaving in the morning was a lot easier. There was a more direct route back to pavement and that road was in much better condition. So after my chores, we headed out. It was probably around 9 AM. Some guy had shown up that morning and built a bonfire on the riverbank a bit farther downstream from my site for reasons I can’t fathom.

Leasburg Dam State Park, December 23-26

Although I enjoy boondocking, especially in a quiet place with great weather — and we certainly were having great weather, with temperatures 15-20°F higher than normal — I decided I wanted an easy Christmas. So in the morning, before leaving, I booked three nights at the Leasburg Dam State Park Campground with a power and water connection.

I managed to stay off the freeway all day, driving instead on route 187 south. We passed through more towns that were just map names with post offices. The terrain was mostly desert, but occasionally there would be some agriculture. I could see Caballo Reservoir from the road; it was like any other desert lake I’d seen.

We eventually got to Hatch, which is famous for its chiles. Again, I was disappointed. Although it looked a bit nicer than Truth or Consequences and seemed to have a few funky shops that may or may not have been open that Tuesday, there wasn’t much going on. I did stop at the local grocery store, which was a lot nicer inside than it looked from the outside, to buy some tissues — my runny nose was back. And I stopped at the local Ace hardware store for some penetrating oil to work out the rust on my StarLink mount when I got a chance. Then onward, now on route 185. I think I arrived at the campground at around 2 PM.

My expectations were low. They are always low for campgrounds. The one in Albuquerque had been a parking lot with gravel islands between spots. But this campground had me pleasantly surprised. Not only did I have a pull-through spot with a mostly level concrete pad, but there was a picnic table, fire pit, and ramada (shade structure). The place was spotlessly clean — it had even been raked before my arrival. And the sites were spread apart so I even had a certain amount of privacy!

By the second day, I wished I’d booked four nights.

I had a relaxing stay. I took care of some financial stuff that needed to be done before year-end. I got into the mobile studio for a few hours on Wednesday and Thursday (Christmas) and made two new earring styles. (These days, earrings seem to sell the best at art shows. I think people are being very careful with their money.) I re-packed some of my studio equipment in new bins to replace the ones that had broken on my way to Albuquerque. I soaked the metal parts of the StarLink mount in penetrating oil and used a brass brush to try to remove some of the rust. (No joy.) I fully charged the batteries inside my cargo trailer; I use them with an inverter to run studio equipment like my flex shaft and tumbler.

Here’s a shot of my mobile jewelry studio’s workbench on Christmas day when I was just finishing up some work on some new earrings. It might look like a mess, but it contains about 80% of my equipment and materials and I can make just about anything in there that I can make in my home studio. Everything gets stowed when I get under way.

On Christmas Day, I took my pups for a hike down to the river and back — about 1.6 miles total — that gave us a chance to see the empty diversion canal, dam, and original dam keeper residence. There were only 4 other people on the trail. For my early dinner, I grilled up a gorgeous tenderloin and sweet potatoes and had them with a salad and bottle of wine.

Before the end of the day, I packed up and secured everything I’d taken out in my jewelry studio to work. I put my bicycle in the trailer and secured it. I was hoping for an early departure the next day and knew that the more I got done that day, the less I’d have to do in the morning.

In the morning, I decided to take advantage of the shower available at the campground. I’m not sure if that was a good idea. My camper does have a shower and it isn’t bad. In fact, I think it might be better than the one in the campground, which required me to push a button every 10 seconds — and no, I’m not exaggerating here — to keep the water running. The only good thing about the shower was that the water was hot. That’s especially good because the temperature could not be adjusted.

Once I’d recovered from that little ordeal, I finished packing up my rig and topped off the water tank. It took more water than I expected. (The water gauge sensor in my camper is broken so the amount of water left is always a mystery.) Then, after a walk-around, I climbed into the truck with my pups and headed out.

We stopped at the dump station along the way. I dumped both waste tanks and rinsed the blackwater tank. I added water and chemicals to the blackwater tank. I must be doing something right because my toilet and blackwater system never stinks. We headed out, southbound.

Las Cruces, Deming, City of Rocks, December 26-28

I wanted to stop at a bookstore in Las Cruces before going into town to check it out. It wasn’t far — maybe 20 miles? The Maps app offered two ways to get there. I picked the way that would keep me off the freeway and I’m really glad I did. Along the way I passed through an area of nut orchards and got a chance to see them harvesting nuts — pecans? pistachios? — by shaking the trees. It was fascinating. I wanted to stop and watch and ask questions. But I also didn’t want to be a nuisance, so I kept driving.

Barnes and Noble was at a dead mall. You know the kind — at least 25% of the stores are empty. I got there early and the store was open, although the only folks in the mall were mall walkers. Everything in the store was at least 25% off. Everything. I bought a few good printed maps, a book to motivate me to get back into writing — I have dozens of those and they don’t work, but I keep trying — and some magnetic bookmarks. I think I spent $40. I walked the entire mall. I found a shoe store and bought a pair of Vans slip-on canvas shoes to replace the open back shoes I’d been wearing (and hating) for weeks.

I drove into downtown Las Cruces. Again, I was underwhelmed. Malls and strip malls and big box stores and online shopping have certainly killed enough downtowns. Las Cruces is one of the bigger cities in New Mexico and it’s downtown was a dismal bore. I even managed to get a parking space on the street — remember, I’m in a 26-foot truck/camper combo pulling a 16-foot utility trailer. I visited the Coas bookstore and bought three more writing books. I would have bought a fourth, but it was a review copy clearly labeled “Not For Resale” and they were asking $20 for it. There’s just something so very wrong about that.

After that, I drove around a bit looking for a place to get lunch and coming up empty. Sure, I saw fast food joints away from downtown, but that’s not what I wanted. I was hoping for some local food, maybe Mexican. I stopped at a Harbor Freight to buy some files; I’d left most of mine at home and really needed them in the studio. There was a Mexican restaurant next door and I asked the guy at checkout about it. He said he’d tried it a few times and didn’t like it. He suggested instead that I stop at the Kwik Check (a gas station) for some burritos. I thanked him, got back into the truck, and headed west. I did not stop at Kwik Check.

I’d had such a positive experience at Leasburg State Park that I decided to try City of Rocks, north of Deming, for a few nights. The guy camped next door to me for my first night at Leasburg had mentioned it. I wanted to check out Silver City, which was north of there, but I didn’t want to visit on a weekend. So I booked three nights at City of Rocks, planning to go from there to Silver City on Monday. I got a basic campsite with no hookups, which was fine since the camper had been refreshed at Leasburg.

There wasn’t much choice in routing. I had to take I-10. I got off at Akala, which is on the Apache reservation and followed highway 549, a two lane road, from there into Deming. It was all just desert, with patches of agricultural areas here and there. Deming had a decent little town, but I wasn’t in the mood to park and walk. I was hungry, though. I found a local place called the Cactus Cafe, and went inside. I had the most amazing burger and seasoned fries.

From there, I headed northwest on Route 180 for a bunch of miles and then turned northeast on Route 61. Then I was driving down a steep hill into a valley filled with boulders. The City of Rocks.

I shot this on my way out of the park on Sunday morning. Same view as Friday, but better light.

I stopped at the visitor’s center to check in. Before I knew it, the ranger had suggested that I swap my back-in campsite for pull through in another area of the park. Sounded good to me. I followed her instructions and found myself maneuvering my rig into a spot among boulders bigger than my camper.

My campsite at City of Rocks just before sunset on the day I arrived.

We had just enough time before sunset for me to put on my hiking shoes and go out for a hike with my pups among the boulders. We didn’t go far; even though I found a great spot to watch the sunset from, we didn’t stay because I didn’t want to have to hike back in the dark. Along the way, I saw the site I would have been in and agreed that it might have been tough to back in there. The bigger problem, however, is that it was nowhere near level.

We settled in for the night. I was exhausted.

I put out the StarLink the next day. Although I had a bit of a signal on my phone, it wasn’t really enough to do the research I wanted to do for my next few days of travel. One of the rangers had mentioned Gila Cliff Dwellings and I was interested. I was especially interested later in the day after a 1.9 mile hike through the length of the park. I felt as if I’d “done” City of Rocks and didn’t need another day.

It doesn’t look very impressive in this photo, but if you consider that most of these rocks were considerably taller than me and there were hundreds of them — well, maybe you get the idea.

Before sunset, I pulled my camper out, turned it around, and pulled back into the site with my window facing out toward the setting sun. It was a lot more pleasant than looking out at a picnic table I didn’t use nestled among the rocks. I watched the sun set while reading at my camper’s table.

My view of sunset from the camper. The building with the two pipes coming out the top was a bathroom.

The wind picked up and blew hard all night. The cold front that was bringing normal seasonal weather back to the southwest had arrived. There was snow in the forecast for Monday.

Gila Cliff Dwellings, December 28

I got an early start the next day. It was 72 miles to the Gila Cliff Dwellings and I’d already been warned that the roads could be a little challenging for a rig like mine.

It was a gorgeous day. The first part of the drive, northeast on Route 61, was just like the drive from Yarnell to Prescott through Skull Valley in Arizona. High desert terrain, sweeping curves on the road, small settlements, open range, boulders and rock formations. As usual, the towns were more names on the maps than anything else; there were very few businesses along the way.

When Route 61 ended, I was on Route 152 for a short distance and then Route 35. The road seemed to get a little narrower as it took me northwest, up into the mountains. The terrain changed; there were more tall trees and fewer vistas. Then Route 35 ended and I turned north on Route 15. And that’s when the fun began.

Route 15 was a winding road that climbed up and down steep hills with drop offs on one side or the other. It threaded its way among mountain peaks 7000+ and 8000+ feet tall. (Somewhere along the way, I had crossed the Continental Divide.) This went on for miles through the Gila National Forest. Finally, it descended down out of the National Forest, through a town called Gila Hot Springs, and back into the National Forest where it would eventually end at the Cliff Dwellings parking lot.

I detoured to the Visitor Center where I got some information and two very good maps. Then I drove to the Cliff Dwellings parking lot, used the toilet there, and let my dogs out to do their business. They would not be allowed on the trail to the Cliff Dwellings, so I put them in the camper where they had food and water and set off alone.

A ranger stood at the start of the trail. She gave all hikers a briefing. The trail was a mile long with a steep climb in one area. (The total ascent was just under 200 feet, so it wasn’t a big deal.) Hikers were not allowed to bring snacks or flavored drinks (water only) and they couldn’t chew gum or smoke. This is to keep litter off the trail and out of the ruins. When she was satisfied that I wasn’t breaking these rules, she let me continue. I crossed a bridge over the Gila River, noting a beaver dam just upstream, and started up the trail.

The trail wound up a canyon with a small creek and I must have crossed eight or so bridges along the way. The canyon was in the shadows and it was chilly. Then it started to climb more steeply, offering views of the cliff dwellings as it got out into the sun. The steep part was steps and I climbed them with a few short rests along the way. Then I was there at the start of the ruins, which I had pretty much all to myself.

One of the dozens of photos I took at the Gila Cliff Dwellings. There were very few people up there with me.

I explored the ruins to the extent visitors were allowed. I took a lot of photos. It was interesting to see how they had built in the space. The ruins are about 80% original, but they are not complete. Still, original wooden beams exist in situ and that’s how they dated the ruins back to around 1200-1300 AD. Visit the website to learn more.

I spent about an hour up there, really taking my time. As usual, it felt good to take everything in at my own pace, without being rushed or delayed by someone else. For some reason, I felt really good that day, like I was doing something worth doing. I wish I could explain it.

I hiked back down and, after chatting with a different ranger at the trailhead, went back to my rig. I got my girls out of the camper and back into the truck. We headed back down Route 15, away from the park, stopping briefly at Doc Campbell’s Post, where I bought an ice cream.

By this time, it was about 1:30 PM. I’d passed a camping area right on the Gila River just south of town and I really wanted to stay there. The trouble was:

• It was supposed to get very cold overnight.
• It was supposed to snow the next day.
• There was 45 miles of winding mountain road between Gila Hot Springs and Silver City.

Although I’d be fine there overnight, I was not prepared to drive in icy conditions the next day. And although I had enough food to last me a week, there was unlikely to be enough sun to keep my solar panels charged. That meant if I got “stuck” there, I’d have to run my generator to be able to charge up the batteries so I could run the heat overnight. None of that sounded good to me.

But I did pull into the spot for lunch. I let my dogs run around a little, then went into the camper and cooked up some gyro meat with onions and eggs. I followed that up with some ice cream. Then I stowed everything, got back into the truck with my pups, and headed out.

The first part of the road seemed to go more quickly than it had on the way up. Then I got to the junction of route 35. As I continued south on Route 15, I caught a glimpse of a sign that said something like large trucks or vehicles towing should reconsider driving on that road. By then it was too late. I was on it and heading south.

The ranger at City of Rocks had said the road was 1 1/2 lanes wide. Now I knew exactly what she meant. It did not look wide enough for two cars to pass each other. It had hairpin switchback curves that I wasn’t sure my truck, with its horrible turning radius, could negotiate. But I managed, often while climbing what looked like 10% grades. The road climbed and twisted and climbed and turned, mile after mile. Eventually, I reached the “top” where it traced a narrow ridge with drop offs on either side and not a guardrail to be seen anywhere.

What a road!

Once I got past the initial shock of the kind of road I was on, I just went with it. I was the only one on the road — there was no one in front of me, behind me, or coming at me. So I just drove at a comfortable speed, trying to enjoy the views and the novelty of where I was and wishing, more than once that there wasn’t any snow in the forecast so that I could find a place to pull off for the night and enjoy being at the top of the world.

Eventually, the road started to descend back into the forest. Now vehicles were coming from the other direction, passing me. Sometimes they would stop and slow at the edge of the road on their side and sometimes I would do the same on my side. There were no close calls. These people weren’t idiots.

The closer I got to Silver City, the more vehicles there were. It was the week between Christmas and New Year so a lot of people apparently had time off. Most of the vehicles coming up were pickup trucks. There was one motorhome. One guy was pulling a decent sized trailer — okay, maybe he was an idiot.

I eventually passed the Cherry Creek campground, which had been my last forest service option for the night before Silver City. I thought again of the rain or snow and slick roads and being “stuck” in a forest with no sunlight to keep my batteries charged and having to listen to the drone of my own generator and kept going.

I crossed the Continental Divide again. (If you’re keeping track, I was now back on the east side.) Then I came out of the forest and started descending into Silver City.

I had already decided — after a suggestion by the Ranger up at the Cliff Dwellings trailhead — to try spending the night at Walmart. But first I drove through town. I was pleasantly surprised to see a relatively vibrant downtown that actually had shops and restaurants open on a Sunday night.

But I was tired. I drove to the Walmart, went in to do some grocery shopping, and then repositioned my rig to a side parking lot where I could park parallel to an earthen berm away from any traffic. I let my pups run around on the berm to do their business, then went into the camper with them and my grocery bags, put away the groceries, and started making dinner.

I’d driven more than 120 miles on twisting mountain roads and was exhausted.

Silver City, December 29

I slept remarkably well. The parking lot was quiet and no one bothered me. I wasn’t the only boondocker; there was a big motorhome at the edge of the main lot and a ridiculously bright yellow Sprinter van parked about 200 feet from me. The Sprinter van was gone by the time I made my coffee and the motorhome was gone when I left at about 7 AM.

I went to a local laundromat that just happened to be next door to the Visitor Center, where there were RV parking spots. I took one. I did my laundry and visited the Visitor Center during the dry cycle. I got some info about the town, including the name of a Realtor I could talk to.

I put the laundry into the camper and walked over a little bridge into town. I spent the next two hours walking around, talking to people in the shops that were open. (The Monday Curse strikes again; more than half the shops there are closed on Mondays.) I learned a lot of positive things. I talked to a Realtor and she showed me, on her computer, multiple homes within my price range and even a few commercial properties. I liked almost everything I saw. This was the first town in New Mexico that I could actually imagine moving to.

I had lunch in a local diner, then went back to the camper. I had to decide whether I wanted to stay another day and maybe look at properties or keep going. I decided to keep going. I wasn’t ready to move and couldn’t see looking at properties I wasn’t ready to buy.

So we headed south, out of town, stopping for fuel along the way.

I had found another forest service dispersed campsite not far off Route 90 on the way southwest to Lordsburg just past the Continental Divide. Unfortunately, I missed the turn for it and could not easily turn around. But I found another turn into the national forest land there a bit farther down the road. I pulled over, checked the satellite image to make sure there was a place to turn around once I got in there, and then pulled in. I had to open a gate, pull through, and then close the gate behind me. Then there was a steep climb up a dirt road before I reached a powerline road. The road circled a clump of trees and I drove around it, stopping next to a rock firepit with my truck pointing out. I killed the engine. We had arrived at our overnight destination.

After my pups got out and ran around for a while — and I mean that quite literally — we climbed back into the camper. It was around 3 PM and the wind was howling. I realized that I was pretty much at the top of a ridge and had a wonderful view out the back of the camper down into the valley where Lordsburg was. But the wind was relentless and it was cold. Worse yet, because it had been cloudy most of the day, my batteries hadn’t fully charged. I had to conserve power and that meant turning the heat down. Way down.

Two large black cows walked by as I sat at the table reading. Open range.

Before it got dark, I fed my pups and let them out one more time. It was bitter cold. We went back in and I closed all the blinds, including the one over the skylight, to help keep the cold air out.

I snuggled in bed under the blankets. I was just cold enough overnight to know I was cold.

Leaving New Mexico, December 30

In the morning, I stayed snuggled in bed with a book until it got light out. I checked my power levels and was surprised that they were as high as they were. I got up and turned up the heat a little. I made my coffee and got back into bed. When the sun hit the solar panels and my levels started to rise, I cranked up the heat. I took my pups out to do their business and we all hurried back inside. That wind! I fed them and got right back into bed.

I realized that I had become road weary. I wanted to stop for a few days someplace easy where I wouldn’t need to worry about battery power or finding a place to spend the night. Fortunately, I had friends back in Arizona and they had already told me I could stay at their second home in Sierra Vista. That’s where I’d go.

It was well after 10 AM when I got back on the road. We came down the mountain into the desert. I drove through Lordsburg, just checking it out, and was disappointed again. I set my Maps app to direct me to Bisbee, AZ.

Somewhere on Route 80, just past the town of Rodeo, NM, we crossed back into Arizona. My New Mexico explorations were over.