siga siga

Day 30

Tues 24th July

Intend to leave today. There is a hot spring and mineral spa within an hour or two which has RV camping and it sounds good for my back. In the morning, as a present, Angie turned my simple idea into a finished work by printing it full size on canvas. Concept to finished work in 24 hrs. I am amazed and delighted.

New Mexican lethargy and complicated arrangements on indian time keep us from leaving until its late in the afternoon so we put off leaving until tomorrow.

Angie has been amazingly generous and unselfish to us. We would have been stuck in an RV park without her. There has been a general openness and trust among people here that we haven’t experienced for a while from strangers.

Day 29

Mon 23rd July

Lay around in the camper toying with an idea involving rulers then realised I had the equipment to make it real so using the camera and photoshop I actually made some art albeit still just an idea since I couldnt see it fullsize or offscreen.

Back improving every day so felt able to lie around in the house investigating the cartoon network with River and discovering an odd show about Meat.

Day 28

Sun 22nd July

Felt a little better so as an experiment tried driving Angie’s Jeep into the town with River . I expected an East Coast Sunday shopping experience but found closed shops and limited supplies. Did buy a cheap car radio so we could have ipod music in the car.  Met sympathy and kindness as I drove my shopping cart like a bag lady, but the pain had returned, so I realised we’d have to stay another day.

  Retired often to the camper to go horizontal.

Day 27

Sat 21st July

Pain receded enough to get over to the house so decided we needed to dump the evil contents of our festering Black Tank. I drove to the RV park but everybody came in case I couldn’t make it back - which I couldnt so Angie drove us over Blueberry Hill and out into the desert to show us where the real hippies lived on free land and houses made of trash.  Mesa Dust Rats.  Every now and then they came into town to shower.  The women rescued a woman motorist on the way.

In the late afternoon we arrived at the local radio station to sit outside with the mountain as a backdrop and watch live music by James McMurtry (son of Larry) and the Heartless Bastards. A local man, Michael Hearne, played first and captivated us with sweet ballads while all us flower adults arrived, laughing off a cloudburst or two. I creaked around taking photos using River’s wooden broadsword for a stick. The Heartless Bastards played tight and clever rock and roll while the sun went down. A lovely evening.

Day 26

Friday 20th July New Mexico Taos

I lay in bed all day and took many pictures of a tree outside. Angie left on a 6 hour mission to drive Bond to the airport at Alberquerque. Lisa did washing by the basketload, dinner cooking and bill paying while I looked through all my old notes in an semi successful attempt to come up with some interesting projects.

Couldnt really move without pain so I didnt much. We’d parked in a mint patch so a lovely smell filled the air every time someone came and went.

Day 25

Thurs 19th July New Mexico Taos

Important that we leave the campsite today to take on water, pay bills and recharge our batteries. I set off to the campground toilet confident I can hobble there with my new stick but halfway I am felled again by agonising pain and lie in the mud. Lisa backs up the camper and I manage to crawl back on board but we obviously have a major problem. Angie drives our camper to her house 4 miles away while her 16 yr old Bond takes her jeep.

She offers to let us stay until I am recovered which is a godsend. Not much left for me to do but lie on the couch in the camper, type this and watch the lightning storm passing over. Not very interested in taking pictures. Earlier, each visit to our onboard loo was a painstaking manouevre planned out in intricate detail, accompanied by imps ripping nerves out of my lower spine.

This evening I feel a little more comfortable and hopefully i will be recovered soon. Now drinking a lot of water as apparently one dehydtrates very rapidly up here in the high desert. Lisa is making a roast dinner for everybody tonight. If I’m not cured by tomorrow I may be forced to see a doctor. Fortunately, being an art town, there are many to choose from, of all persuasions.

Day 24

Wed 18th July New Mexico Taos

River, the 8 yr old, comes over and chefs us a fried breakfast of tortilla, eggs and diced potato before his family wakes up. The local couple leave, having been there a week fishing and we prepare to leave and retrace our steps to find the buffalo herd which is apparently crossing our tracks 50 miles behind us.

Then I leaned over to pull on my flipflops and twisted my back. We settled down to wait out the pain since I couldn’t drive. Angie made photos of Lisa’s work in the river while Bob played guitar. I think I can make it to the toilet but get as far as Bob’s RV. I rest there and he explains the workings of engines to me.

Manuel arrived and said we were in the perfect position to see the fabled golden eagle of these parts as her nest was high above our camper (its a camper now not a truck) on the canyon wall. I tried to get up too soon and was dropped for good by the paralysing pain. Lisa turned the camper around so I could lie on the couch with binoculars and hunt eagle.

As I point out the nest to her a humming bird stops to examine my finger. Tooth appears to have stopped hurting.

Day 23

Tues 17th July New Mexico Taos

Day starts with local Leona from the riverside tent coming over to sit with Lisa. I talk to Bob in the bigger brother Toyota, a V6 Winnebago from West Virginia parked among the trees. I’m interested in his clever system of straps and torsion bars which secure his motorbike to the bumper but move the strain to the chassis.

Bob is a mature single guy on the road with a giant stag’s head in the bed and a stuffed mountain lion behind the sofa. He plays a melancholy guitar - singing soft slow rhythm and blues. Leona’s man Steve arrives with freshly caught fish using flies made by Luke, a semi-homeless wanderer from Wisconsin. We start a fire and all share a sumptuous lunch of brown and rainbow trout, bagels and ice cream.

Lisa matter-of-factly washes our dirty clothes in the river. I go into town with Luke for supplies.  Afternoon spent laughing and relaxing together, playing cards and carousing into the evening when we are joined by the only other campers in the area, Angie and her two kids, River and Bond.  Angie once owned an art gallery and is taken by Lisa’s sculptures. She encourages Lisa to exhibit and resolves to photograph them. Bob and Steve alternate on the guitar between C&W, Blues and traditional New Mexican. I learn to play the gong by firelight while the boys throw the illuminating balls at eachother and Luke tells stories about fish, accordions, bears and frostbite. A very pleasant day which arrived from nowhere.

Had a good day, washing clothes in stream to the surprise of others. Steve and Luke caught fish and cooked them for us - we gave ice cream and bagels. Bob from West Virginia in other toyota, a sad and gentle new divorcee, played his guitar. Angie and her two boys were camped higher up but joined us for dinner - more fish. She likes my sculptures and told me to sell them for at least $150 but start higher. These people are all struggling to survive, L and S camping up here for free to save on gas for their hours commute from home to work. Bob very careful with his life and belongings but would share in a heartbeat to have a woman to sing with. For 30 years he went out womanising and drinking with his father-in-law every night and hunting every weekend. He carries a complete stuffed mountain lion and an antlered stag head - both of which he regretfully murdered himself. He sits and puzzles his past behaviour and attitudes in a cloud of remorse and wonders if this new life will ever fulfil him. Leona left her 4 kids and abusive husband to find Steve 6 years ago. Tries to forget it all while tattooing their names on her body in ever more whimsical ways. Her latest a ‘prison tattoo’ done with a home-made gun, the needle made from a guitar string so the inkwork is fantastically fine with a wonderful paintbrush effect. Her sister and family live in 2 jacked-up 5th wheels at the woodyard where he works and are tiredly grateful for a place to live. There is so much wealth here yet these lovely people dont have it - they just provide the services. Sounds familiar doesnt it - seems all that changes is the colour of the workers’ skin. A magical little campground with dive-bombing humming birds, tumbling river sounds and more gorgeous butterflies.

Day 22

Mon 16th July New Mexico Taos

Early morning. The light threw detail the other way making a completely new landscape. Sat overlooking the gorge and watched small creatures appear among the rocks.

Huge breakfast back in Taos and we check out the town more closely. Actually it feels very good and people are relaxed and friendly. Decide we could live here and should stay the night at a free campsite up the mountain discovered by a hitchhiking chef from New York who we give a lift to Walmart. He is looking for land to build before Hollywood fully discovers the area and prices soar. Even Walmart makes a (weak) attempt at adobe frontage.

Many galleries in town selling expensive art.  Murals and sculptures on street corners. Several importers of world ethnic goods, restaurants with art for sale and artists painting at easels.

Spend the afternoon roaming the Taos Pueblo, the indian village under the mountain that allows fee paying tourists to tromp through their alleyways to help their preservation. They also make stuff to sell and I am tempted by a 3ft or more diameter cottonwood and hide drum - deep resonant tone - but its too big for the truck even if it wasnt crazy money. Red Willow, the old drum maker, suggests I put the drum in the passenger seat and leave Lisa there. The village is adobe - mud and straw - small homes built similarly to the greek style for warmth in winter and coolness in summer. Tempted to go back for the drum.

Try to photograph drive thru adobe bank and discover camera shutter button gone - as predicted on the sony complaints website. Failed to find button around the last stance a photo was taken in so fashioned a new one from a matchstick, a sewing popper and some tape. It works ok but I have a low regard for Sony. Found the campsite some way out of town through inspiring countryside and boondocked along a river between two high canyon walls with more stars above than I have ever seen. Could live here - given an income - first place I’ve felt that since Greece. Could be the similarity.

Into Taos for breakfast as a treat - served the most enormous platters that we struggle to share. Wandered the shops looking at all sorts of wonderful cheap impractical right now goodies, sorted the house bills again and met friendly amiable people all along the way. H discovered his camera shutter button had done a Zebedee ( a common albeit unacknowledged problem. Alongside the focus it begins to look a very overpriced shoddy piece of equipment which is sad. When new and working roperly it seemed the polar opposite.) Saw a jack rabbit - couldnt have been anything else. On to the taos Pueblo to see the Indians and their village - the buildings all adobe and not architect designed. Very beautiful in a tumbling back down to dust sort of way. Met members of the Mirabel clan. What a coincidence. Red Willow, an old drum maker, told us to look to the mountain for a decision on our direction and then offered to swap me for a drum H fancied. A little Indian lady popped up out of nowhere to sing ‘You are so beautiful’ at me (she liked my skirt). Went to free campsite towards ski area outside Taos. Beautiful spot - stream, pallisades type rocks and trees. This is boondocking - how exciting. Dont know why but we both feel very drawn to this area.

Day 21

Sunday 15th July New Mexico/ Colorado/ New Mexico.

Into Colorado to get oil changed at only Walmart for 100 miles but they won’t do it saying the truck is too high for the bay. We buy oil and a foil tray and do it ourselves right next to them with the help of a trucker called Mike, attracted by Lisa’s legs sticking out from under the truck. For future reference, Walmart will dispose of 10 gallons of oil for free.

Long climb up the mountain back into New Mexico and down the other side. Didn’t see any bears. 10 miles out of Raton on the plains we realise we didnt get petrol and there is no town in the near future so we return to Raton and start again. At $3.46 we realise the time of cheap gas is behind us to the east. Lovely open country at 40 mph with carved hills, cacti with roses, jack rabbit leaping off into the distance. Hardly any cars up here.

On through picturesque tree and river canyon country apparently owned by Boy Scouts. Canopied and lovely drive with great sheets of fiery rock pinnacles overhead. Opening out into a massive lake on the wide plain with a stunning mountain backdrop to dozens of rvs and shacks around and on the shore. Signs read ‘reintegration area’ and warn us against hitchhikers.

Lightning bolts amid dark clouds spread across the plain as we climbed at 20 mph over the hills and down again in sunshine rain to Taos, an artist town and adobe tourist center ‘the soul of New Mexico’. Nearly all the buildings are adobe - even the Best Western - and the red curves and greenery everywhere is very agreeable but oddly fake feeling too.

7 miles out of town, back on the prairie heading west, the bottom drops away and we are on a very high suspension bridge over the Rio Grande Gorge. We pull into the rest area next to the drop and marvel while we await golden eagles. 24 hr limit on parking. The toilets are lit and video monitored and we have a house on wheels so we decide to stay there in the open. As darkness fell shifty men avoided contact and moved their cars for a better view of the toilet. Taking photos of desert shrubs I disturb a lurker in a shelter. When all is still the silhouette of full burly drag totters to his truck in 3 inch heels and drives away. Sleep fitfully with one eye open and glued to a peephole in the blinds. 3 gunshots reverberate across the plain in the early hours.

Sick and puking all morning. Obviously have to get used to altitude slowly. Cant eat - only drink water and puke. My head hurts. H needed laundry doing after all. Drove up and over into Clorado to Trindad Walmart for oil change. They wouldnt take us. Did it ourselves in carpark with help of a very nice oil man called Mike. Suspect he didnt like seeing me under car. Back to raton to get on taos road. Went so far then H remembered petrol. Bad tempered back to Raton to fill up. Road wonderful all the way to Taos - which was a bit Newquayish in an adobe sort of way. Parked up at rest stop by gorge bridge where there are supposed to be golden eagles nesting. Tiptoeing round eachother while we check for cleared air. How funny - seems we chose a gay, cross-dressing trysting spot. Very strange musical cars as the voyeurs and action men jockeyed for position but once clever Hugh figured it out we both felt much happier and less threatened. I slept - H listened and worried until a blanketful of coyote, a trio of gunshots and a police patrol car made him feel better.