After two nights "inside" I was more than ready to get down the road.  The itch hits after just a day of sitting in one place regardless of how warm or comfortable it may be.  I'm somewhat worried that this nagging trend will continue for the remainder of my life. Perhaps it has always been there since I was a kid moving around with military parents?  I love to get out on the road, pick up things and move on to somewhere new.

The snow had begun to melt and the roads were mostly dry. A 15mph wind blew from the NW but fortunately that was the direction I was headed! My fingers and toes grew numb but it was a sunny day, no room for complaint!  Approaching the small whistle stop of Valentine, TX, a strange sight appeared to my right. I had heard about the Prada store in Marfa but wasn't quite expecting this.  It is a permanent art installation in the middle of the desert housing designer shoes and handbags in a display window.  Time has taken it's toll on the modern storefront. The glass is dirty, the sign slightly ripped, the purses inside slowly folding under their own weight. 9.8 m/s^2 is a real doozie.

Not long after my stop here in the sunshine, I spotted one of the large blimps I'd seen elsewhere in NM and AZ.  A sign out front read "Tethered Aerostat Radar Station".  These moored static balloons help along the border in identifying drug trafficking and smuggling operations.

Following up on some advice, I made a stop at the Food Shark food truck in Marfa, TX for some Falafel and hummus.  It was delicious.  The "dining car" was an old schoolbus. Inside, the local Marfa NPR station was airing Science Friday while I ate.  Sun streamed through the rectangular windows, their little plastic catches reminding me of my youth.  How many times had I opened and closed those windows?  Taking some time to fill in my journal, I realized it was time to go. OFF THE BUS!  Back out into town to see what I could see...

I'm going to get a cup of coffee at a local joint then head over to the Marfa Lights Viewing Area 10 mi east of town to see what I can see.

The ride toward Texas was cold and windy.  I was welcomed to Texas by a 75mph speedlimit sign and narrowing two lane highway. perfect...

I cruised past the impressive Guadalupe Mountains and Texas's highest peaks (over 8000ft) then began the downhill ride toward Van Horn. My low fuel light came on but fortunately my spare can was full.  A tailwind finally set in from the North and helped keep my speed around 35mph. I felt like I was FLYING!

Van Horn is truly a blip at the crossroads of I-10 and the Texas Mountain Trail, a scenic driving tour through the impressive and rugged landscape of West Texas.  The 3 MI main street is full of motels, many closed, shuttered businesses, garages and a small market where I stopped to pick up eggs and pancake mix for breakfast.

A winter storm warning was in effect with precipitation and falling temperatures so I settled in to the KOA cabins south of the interstate for a much needed rest and conforming shower(first since leaving San Diego).  The little uninsulated cabin was a bit chilly, helped only by a small space heater which eventually was upgraded.  Light could be seen through the cracks in the wood and the strong northern wind blew the curtains inside the windows. Fortunately, I was sheltered and safe from the blowing wind and sleet.  It would blow through the night except the brunt of precipitation fell to my NE. 

The morning sun shines bright this Friday and I look forward to the road ahead.  I'm going to scoot out of here south for Marfa, TX and spend the night at the Marfa Lights Viewing Center.  The low temp is 22F so this should be a good test of gear and preparation for the cold.  Hopefully it won't get much colder than this on my southern sojurn in the coming months.  Once I shed this elevation, I expect the extremely cold temperatures will slip away. At least I hope!

I continued on from Alamogordo with a used belt driving the Ruckus forward.  It has slipped earlier in the morning, or was that just a gust of wind? No way to be sure but it felt like a belt slipping.  I have two spares, one is shredded pretty poorly and the other missing a few teeth.  What lays before the 10" wheels of La Tortuga is the Sacramento Mountains over 4500ft of elevation gain in 16mi on the route to Cloudcroft, NM (elev. 8650ft).  At an average GPS verified speed of 15mph, I tackled the 16 miles of switchbacks in the morning light.  The temperature in Alamogordo was only in the low 40's and it continued to fall as the elevation ticked higher.  The grade was relentless and for over an hour, the little scooter chugged along climbing proudly and without protest.  

The rise in elevation brought more moisture and vegetation, shrubs gave way to trees and eventually forests of juniper and pinyon pine. Beautiful snow covered hillsides abutted the roadway, closing in small roadside vendors selling Apples and trinkets. Most shops were closed in this, the cold winter season. Following the old path of a railway once used to haul timber in the 19th century, mountain cuts, a tunnel and even the remains of an old trestle mark the history.  

The few photos taken on this triumphant climb remain on my point and shoot. Not once did I stop in fear that the little motor couldn't make speed again at such an elevation and grade.  When the road tipped at Cloudcroft, I pumped my fist in the air in celebration! The guy at the cycle shop said it was all downhill from here. 

I made a brief stop in Cloudcroft, shivered a bit, had a snack and rolled on.  Despite the altitude, the little ruckus purred up to 38mph on the downhill run toward Artesia.  The Lincoln National Forest provided a wonderful winter scene of pines, small ranches, horses beside the roadway chewing alfalfa and smoke curling from chimneys. A tailwind propelled me forward from the west making the ride eerily quiet except for the whir of the belt, the minor noise of the motor and the hum of the tires on dry asphalt. Continuing east, the forests gave way to grasslands and pasture, then back to an arid desert climate again.  Few small towns exist between Cloudcroft and Artesia, 70mi east.  It is a predominantly downhill section of road with great distant views of small valleys and canyons cut into the landscape under slivers of peaks beyond.

It seemed like I was just in Hope?  Oh that was Hope, AZ! This is now Hope, NM. Both towns still could use a lot more HOPE. A tumbleweed rolled past behind me as I snapped this shot.  It was nearly comical except it continued on toward the burned out volunteer fire department. That place alone would be worth a photo essay.  Back into the headwind.

Artesia was much nicer than I thought it would be. There was obviously some money here as evidenced by sculptures, streatscaping and nice storefronts.  I'm sure there is a more run down corner of town just a street over.  This was as close as I'd ever get to Roswell, NM which lies roughly 45 mi north.  The higher elevation and the incoming winter storm meant that a visit to my ADV friend Patrick, would have meant a 3-4 night stay as the storm passed.  There were more sights south I wanted to check out and most importantly, warmer temperatures.  I regrettably messaged him that I was heading on south down the road and would meet up on a future loop that direction.
A quick stop in Carlsbad for water, food and gasoline and it was time to camp.

Using Freecampsites.net,  I spotted a BLM area about 10 mi north of Carlsbad Caverns known as Dark Canyon.  Arriving just as the sun set, it quickly lived up to it's name...but not before a beautifully painted southwestern sunset. Two nights in a row!

Frost on the tent and seat in the morning. Ice on the helmet makes it that much harder to put on and get the day started. Alas, I've got a storm to outrun and sights to see!  My fingers grew numb in the biting morning crosswind. "How much farther to Carlsbad Caverns?", I thought.  Soon the turnoff appeared and I began the slow climb up Walnut Canyon, RD.  It was only one canyon south of Dark Canyon so had a very similar ecosystem and design, dry but channeling large amounts of water during flash floods. Caves dotted the canyon walls

The caverns lie 750ft underground so visitors have an option of either walking down a mile or taking a 15 second elevator ride.  In the interest of time, short days of winter and an oncoming storm, I took the elevator.  Ordinarily I would have enjoyed the hike up and down.  The elevator opened into a lobby and through a set of revolving doors I escaped into a damp and cool environment.  It was actually warmer than it was "topside". My eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lights and metal guard railed paths leading into the cave.  The size and immensity of Carlsbad is unlike any other subterranean space I've visited.  It makes the impressive Luray Caverns of the Shenandoah Valley look like a mere room in this underground cathedral of geology.  A photographer could spend years down in the bowels of this sprawling cave.  It is truly a wonderful sight and I would highly suggest it to anyone travelling through the area.

Emerging from the more than a mile walk underground, I returned to the scooter and out onto the 4000' mesa rim.  The wind had shifted directions to blow chillingly from the SE.  A lone 1945 penny sat on my torn and abused gel seat pad.  A mark of praise from some fellow tourist admiring the capabilities of the small rig. Thank you sir or madam! Cruising out of the park downhill, I only held up a few vehicles before reaching the defunct gas station that accepted my card and told me to pump, then dispensed nothing.  Fortunately I carry an extra gallon and was sure I could make it to Van Horn, TX 100mi away.  Time to get out onto the 70mph highway and head south hoping I don't get rear-ended by a semi.