Darkness and Sunshine

Three years ago we headed to Albany, NY to pick-up our new Jayco Greyhawk.  With great sadness we left our Fleetwood Montara in the hands of our salesman Tony, who was showing it to a prospective buyer before we had totally unloaded our belongings.  How quickly we were forgotten by him with our  sale final and another in his sights.  The Montara contained features of a vintage motorhome. These weren't found in the new Greyhawk, no ceramic sink or toilet and no barrel chairs.  However, what the Greyhawk did give us, was the slide!  Now, after stopping for the night, the push of a button enlarges our living space an additional 3 feet in width.  This may not seem like much, but it makes passing in the kitchen a breeze and lounging in the living area feel like sitting on the couch at home.

After signing on all the dotted lines and bidding the Montara goodbye, we headed south to the Delmarva peninsula (Delaware, Maryland and Virginia).  There we walked the sand dunes and camped with the wild ponies. Upon ththisise of a park ranger, we paid $10 for our National Park senior pass.  We now view that expenditure as one of life's best purchases.  On this trip alone, we have used the pass four times to enter national parks or monuments for $0.  Our last two visits were to Carlsbad Caverns and White Sands in New Mexico.  Neither of these would have been on our to do list, but knowing it would be free, changed our thinking.

Descending 750 feet of steep walkway into the Big Room of Carlsbad Caverns was indeed a treat. Just when it seemed the dripping water could not create a stalagtite or stalagmite more beautiful then the last, one was right around the next corner.

Rarely did we pass through a narrow passage on our walk through the many chambers of Carlsbad, thank goodness!  We carried a device, seen in my hand, that provided audio on our self-guided tour. 

Our camera couldn't capture in the darkness the breadth and beauty of the caves.

          A dimly lit walkway guided us.  Many times I was thankful for the railing to hold onto.

Driving 100 miles beyond Carlsbad, we settled in at the Roswell, NM, Walmart hoping for an alien visit. This didn't occur, but we were bombarded by plastic, ceramic, wooden and inflatable green aliens in every gift shop along the road to Las Cruces, NM.  While shopping Walmart for a new folding chair, I met Lissa.  Needing a haircut, I thought, Walmart......why not??  Lissa gave me the best of cuts and in the way of all good hairdressers, provided me with information both wanted and unwanted.  She had left CA with some regret to marry a boy from a well known family in Roswell. She sadly left family behind to settle in this desert  town.  I shared in her loss, but revelled in my new haircut and the knowledge of Walmart truely providing one stop shopping. 

Looking at towns on the map as either large or small dots does not give a clear picture of what lies ahead on the road.  We had no way of knowing that shortly after leaving the desert of Roswell, headed south west toward Los Cruces, that we would encounter pine covered hills and lush valleys. Horses grazed in every dooryard and large ranches boasted hundreds of horses.  Green grass lined the Rio Hondo River, allowing irrigation.  Once in the mountains at an elevation of 6,000 feet we looked ahead with some trepidation at snow covered peaks in the distance.  I wasn't prepared to see a band of white stretching out beneath these.  
I asked Bucky, "Is that a cloud?" 
"No", he replied, "I think it's the White Sands."

                               Roads created by grader, notice our error when backing up?

                                                                       Is she a Husky?

                                 Awww, bare feet and white sand, where's the ocean?

                                             Dogs, horses and bikes are welcomed

                                                        Flying saucer fun......and not an alien in sight!

                                                            Lovely picnic shelters and outhouses

                                                          Please, don't make me leave.

Full of bbq from the Rib Cage, a restful night spent in Sunny Acres 55+ RV Park and we're off to El Paso, Texas a mere 50+ miles away.

Texas

We were deposited in Louisiana as if riding a Gulf wave from Mississippi.  While the white sand beaches of Biloxi, Gulfport, Pass Christian and finally Waveland Mississippi, implied summer pleasure, less than fifty feet away, another story was told.  Katrina spared very few first row beach homes.  Those that had once been second row houses, now held the distinction of being first row with magnificent views of the ocean.  Where first row homes had sat, sidewalks lead through gates and past mature trees to vacant foundations.  Perhaps most impressive, were tall street lights standing forelorn in large parking lots. These were once needed for lighting malls and grocery stores that are no longer standing. Lines of for sale signs dot the landscape.  It is questionable as to if rebuilding should occur, but then, as time passes, the lure of owning such desirable real estate will undoubtedly win over common sense.  For now, it appears as undiscovered ocean beach.  Passing through Louisiana with her swamps, Cajun allure and New Orleans, we encountered the industries related to ocean living.  The architecture associated with oil/gas drilling and refining collided with seafood harvesting.  Here beach front communities coexist with industry.  It made eating Gulf shrimp somewhat less appealing......but maybe that’s why the breading and frying comes in!

It wasn't long before we found ourselves in Texas, hugging the coast toward Galveston.

The colorful beach houses of Port Bolivar lead us to a free ferry taking us to Galveston.
    

         

Galveston appeared from the fog as a delightful mix of old and new, having a historic downtown bordered by resorts and again, oil related structures.  Sitting on the water's edge, Galveston is no stranger to hurricanes.

                                  The ever present shutters guarding against the Texas heat.

Interstate highways led us to San Antonio and the "hill country" of Texas.  Large, leafy Oaks shaded the countryside and Bucky delighted in seeing deer scatter as we approached.  The hill country quickly gave way to sand and cactus as we drove west, our destination Sanderson, Texas, "cactus capital of Texas", but more importantly part-time home of our Alaskan friend, Curtis.

Upon arriving in Sanderson, we settled in as the only transient residents at the Canyon RV Park.  The thunder of trains moving down the tracks a mere 100 yards away, accompanied by the shrill blowing of their whistle, made for a wakeful first night.  However, by night four, I never heard a thing.  

We enjoyed days filled with sun learning the landscape and wildlife of west Texas.  We were privileged to have access to ranch land through Curtis' uncle Kendall.  It was here that we spent several days looking for elk sheds and arrow heads......who knew that elk lived in the cactus capital of Texas!
Fisher seemed more than happy to lie under the RV during the heat of the day, but she did pose here near a century plant.  We saw some that were blossomed, with what looked like trees sprouting as high as twelve feet.  Curtis' aunt Lee told us that once they blossomed they died.

What we were hoping to find.  Curtis beat us to it!

say cheese

                       Lee displays the beautiful arrow head she found, while Curtis shows what he says is a scraper????

                                                            He did however find a pig's snout!

Bandit and Katie keeping us company

                                      Uncle Kendall seeing if he can find an arrow head.

Curtis was generous with his time and toured us around the small Texas towns near Sanderson.  I was convinced that he had a relative in every town we entered.  There was always a cousin, aunt or uncle close by.  Near the end of our visit we took a trip to Marathon to pick up some Aoudad horns belonging to a hunter Curtis had guided.  I had never seen an Aoudad, so I tagged along with the hope of seeing one alive and grazing.  These beautiful African animals were introduced here and join the many exotics that inhabit the ranch land of Texas.

horns of the Aoudad

We learned so much about Texas through spending time with Curtis, his aunt and uncle, his cousins, and eventually his grandmother.  Spending time with these honest hard working and hospitable folks made us truly appreciate Texas. Many small Texas towns such as Sanderson are struggling to stay viable, leaving the residents to travel long distances for employment.  Like so much of the West, be it the US or Canada, folks survive with very few conveniences.  Those living in Sanderson need to travel 100 or more miles for groceries.  When sitting outside visiting with Curtis' family, the kids played in the dirt while the dogs tussled, often mixing it up pretty good.  Bucky said later that it had the resemblance of Opie and his family in Mayberry.  Simple, but good pleasures.  Heading home from Marathon after retrieving the horns we were busy chatting away.  Curtis had just mentioned that we were at the furthest point at which he usually saw Aoudad.  And, then there they were......"out of Africa".

With this sighting, my trip was complete!  I had never seen such a beautiful animal in the wild. The following day we said goodbye to Curtis, knowing we would see each other again upon reaching Alaska, but now sharing so much more than before.  

                                                                  Pecos County ranch land

                                                       looking for arrow heads

                                                                workings of flint???? my dry Texas skin!

                                                                      land with no water

                                                   wildlife eat the nutritious cactus

                                                                             ranch house

Texas to be continued, next stop Big Bend National Park

Music City

"Just google public parking downtown and Nashville's best barbeque."
"Trip advisor gives 5 stars to Jack's Barbeque and there is NO public parking for RVs in downtown Nashville."

Before long, we had the Greyhawk sprawled out in fan parking at LP Field, home of the Titans. Thank you Camping World sales lady for the gem of parking advise.  Thanks also to Max, the salesman originally from Lake Placid, New York, for showing us the new smaller Class A motorhome, wetting my appetite for this instead of BBQ.

The Steese Bridge provides pedestrians an easy walk to old Nashville while providing a wonderful view of this city.  Nashville is a tasteful combination of old brick and new glass architecture.

 I thought, what a perfect setting for an action thriller, as we walked just feet away from these roof tops.  How about jumping from here to the bridge, running along the metal bridge supports before dropping over, using some sort of gadgetry, to the river below.  So totally doable!

Jack found us before we found him.  A sign wasn't necessary as we followed our noses down Broadway.

We prided ourselves with our perfect timing as the line grew behind us.  Skipping breakfast helped to make the brisket, pulled pork, chicken, corn bread and overcooked green beans taste better than they looked.  We sat at a sunny picnic table near the back alley enjoying country music and laughter coming from the rooftop of Tootsies next door.

Finishing before Bucky, I stepped into the alley and to my surprise, realized that I stood in Ryman Alley, behind the famous Ryman Auditorium.  Just one of the surprises that accompanies touring with no map and Google as our guide.

Some snow and ice still held on in the shadows, but Nashville was feeling Spring Fever, or maybe this is the way Nashville always is on a Friday afternoon.  Street performers and barroom bands created a nighttime feel.

The guy in the striped hoody ended up playing the bucket and was very good, getting the sidewalk crowd clapping.  If I were to rate the street acts on Trip Advisor, these fellows would get 5 stars, whereas the cowboy playing the guitar with his cat lying across the top....maybe 1 star.  Below is another of the many seeking fame in Nashville

Tennessee, famous for her walking horses, whiskey, moonshine, music and Southern cooking.

                                                             Popcorn Sutton, R.I.P.

                                                                        Girl Power

If I were to go to Trip Advisor and rate Jack's BBQ, it would rank somewhere between so-so and don't bother, but then again, if I hadn't gone, I wouldn't have stepped out back and ended up at the Ryman.  If I were to rate Broadway, it would easily get 5 stars.  If I were giving stars for boot shops, Nashville is up with the best of the West.  As far as a place to visit on a Spring day in April, without hesitation, 5+*****.  Now, let's see how Alabama does

                                                                    Predator fans

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