Then, just south of the two or three buildings that make up the Claunch metropolitan district, the pickup made some very strange noises!
I’d been doing my vacation-dad thing, asking Leticia to imagine what it was like for those Spanish explorers who’d come this way nearly five hundred years before, or for the nomadic tribes of Indians who’d scraped their existence from the harsh outer shell of the land. When we first heard the strange noise from the engine compartment I pulled over, opened the hood (as far as the canoe that extended the length of the vehicle would allow) and saw to my astonishment and chagrin that the lower pulley was gone. Nothing to drive the fan belt or alternator even though the engine was purring sweetly.
Without the fan belt the motor overheated quickly. Fortunately there was the fifteen gallons of water I’d packed for a week’s camping. Several gallons were used up re-filling the radiator as we limped into Carizozo, some forty miles from where we lost our harmonic balancer-slash-pulley, and the hardships of a pioneer existence became a little more real. We’d drive about ten or fifteen miles and pull to the edge of the road, refill the radiator and head on. We were blessed with an afternoon rain squall that gave us some relief and made Bet
ty content. For the remaining thirty miles we didn’t have to stop.
We rolled South into Carrizozo with time before the sun set to locate the Carrizozo Service Center and have an early dinner at the Four Winds restaurant while the engine cooled. Then we drove four miles east to the Valley of Fires Campground.
The campground, managed very well by the Bureau of Land Management, sits on the edge of the Malpaís (Spanish for "Badlands"), the forty-four mile long lava flow that came out of a vent approximately 3,000 years ago. The vent, just visible on the northern horizon is now called Little Black Peak. We opened up the “pop-up” on a high bluff overlooking the widest section of this stunning array of lava, Yucca, Juniper trees and myriad other flora and fauna. It was a beautiful sight with guaranteed one-of-a-kind sunsets every evening. The breezes kept the temperature down to a comfortable degree (exactly what degree I don’t think we really wanted to know) and took a walk on the lovely interpretive trail set up by the BLM.
The trail meanders in a rough circle, not quite a mile long, with stations
along the route to point out the native vegetation, animals and history, both geologic and anthropologic. Afterwards we settled in for the first of many games of Monopoly
®.
The next morning, after a breakfast of fresh pineapple and pancakes cooked on the outside stove-top with amazing views for our kitchen walls, we headed in to see Billy at the Carizozo Service Center. He diagnosed our problem and, informed us our replacement part would arrive from Chicago in three days. While that was a lot faster than it would have taken in Territorial times it wasn’t much solace to Leticia.
Despondent, we headed back to the Four Winds for a delicious lunch topped off with cheesecake for Leticia and cherry pie for me. Steve, the owner of the Four Winds, it turns out, is the owner of the Carrizozo Service Center. Hearing our plight he asked if I could make a trip to get a part. Of course I would but my truck couldn’t. With the kind of spirit that comes from having to stick together when you’re out in the wilderness Steve surprised me with the offer to lend me a car. Then he called a salvage yard in “Alamo” (the locals called Alamogordo simply “Alamo”) to see if they had a used part for us.
In high spirits now that Steve had found a part we set off on what we would then refer to as the “Air-conditioned Tour of the Tularosa Basin.” Driving south on Highway 54 we could look across the basin to the mountains and mesas on the far western edge of the basin with the Malpaís lava flow down low and out of sight in the valley below. What magnificent country. I think it was somewhere along this route while doing my Dad-the-tourist-guide thing that I shared with Leticia how our experience was very much like that of the early settlers.
“Leticia,” I said, “think of Betty White as our ox and the “pop-up” as our Conestoga wagon. Well, sometimes when a family was crossing the country the ox stepped in a gopher hole and came up lame.” Leticia didn’t seem to appreciate the metaphor.
She did get a big kick out of The Toy Train Depot in Alamogordo. The guys at the salvage yard hadn’t pulled the harmonic balancer-slash-pulley yet so Leticia and I had a traditional New Mexico lunch at Blake’s Lotaburger. Leticia chose their delicious Bar-B-Q and I had a Lotaburger with cheese and green chile. Mmm-mmm!
Next we headed across the street to the Toy Train Depot. When you’re in Alamogordo you can’t miss this place. There is a small train that runs about 3 miles on sixteen inch wide tracks. A train ride is fun and only four dollars. The museum tour is also four dollars and since the combination ticket is only six and we had time to spar we did both!
It was worth it. We got a wonderful running commentary on the train ride from the very conductor who had installed the track! Then we spent more time than we’d planned looking at all the train artifacts and hearing about New Mexico’s train history from one of the volunteers, a rheumy eyed gentleman of advanced age. He then passed us off to a couple of other volunteers who ran the toy trains in the museum.
Man they had a bunch of trains! I hadn’t seen so many trains in one place since those halcyon days of my youth (we’re talking ‘60s here, folks) at the New Mexico State Fair. Among hundreds of toy trains and set pieces, these guys had to have thirty or forty distinct trains of varying gauges, including “Z” gauge, the smallest working electronic train available. They were set up in three or four rooms, all in beautiful landscapes and cityscapes with lots of trees, mountains, cars, trucks and pedestrians. When you go make sure to ask about Roy Kong!
The Toy Train Depot was a great diversion and one I’m thankful for because the guys at the salvage yard had bad news; the harmonic balancer-slash-pulley was defective and broke when they tried to pull it. There was nothing for us to do but finish our “Air-conditioned Tour of the Tularosa Basin.”
The trip home was very quiet. We were going to spend our vacation in Carrizozo instead of Carlsbad. Thankfully the folks we met in Carrizozo took wonderful care of us. Betty White would get us to and from the campground each day and Leticia and I filled our time in a leisurely way.
We’d start our days with breakfast overlooking the Valley of Fires as the sun came up followed by some reading, some Monopoly and, once, a trip to the Visitors’ Center. The Visitors’ Center provided a rich trove of information about the Valley of Fires as well as information on Billy the Kid and other aspects of the region’s history. We referred to the Center Manager as “the Third Albert” after visiting with him about a book on the region called “The Two Alberts” (one of whom was Albert B. Fall, whose ranch is near the Three Rivers Campground and site of over 21,000 petroglyphs).
At the Carrizozo Visitors’ Center, located in a beautiful old railroad caboose, we chatted with Johnson Stearns, a man richly imbued with the history of Carrizozo and the area. Mr. Stearns had lived over ninety years in the area, had been a major force at the local bank and is the author of a pictorial history of Carrizozo wh
ich can be found for sale at the Carrizozo Museum. Mr. Stearns looks remarkably well for a man in his nineties which I took as a testament to clean mountain air.
We took advantage of the cool blue water of the Carrizozo Municipal Swimming pool – literally! The first day we were enjoying a lovely, refreshing swim when a big storm blew in. When lightening forces the closure of the pool, as it did in true New Mexico style about 3pm that afternoon, swimmers are given a rain-check (wow! A real rain-check – who knew?) and invited to return again at no charge. We came back the next day and the woman running the pool provided Leticia with some shampoo! She knew Leticia was unaccustomed to showering in a public facility like those at the campground so she encouraged Leticia to wash up in the shower at the pool. Leticia was very comfortable securely washing her hair in her bathing suit without wondering what stranger might come in – they were all already there!
I was beginning to realize that Carrizozo was synonymous with “hospitality.”
Each day after swimming we finished our late lunch at the Four Winds with one of their delicious deserts and then headed back to our camp at the Valley of Fires. We’d alternate between reading and playing Monopoly and retracing our steps on the interpretive trail at different times of the evening.
The first day we walked in the late afternoon with plenty of light to read the plaques around the trail. We learned to identify various local plants and were shown what animals to look for although we only saw some of the birds that afternoon.
The second day we hiked just at sunset and saw yet another exceptional sunset over the malpaís, more birds, a black tarantula with bright yellow markings as big as my hand, and bats – lots of bats! They swooped overhead diving in acute angles and making lots of noise we, of course, couldn’t hear.
The third day we went down the trail sometime after sunset as the red was receding over the western rim of the valley. We walked slowly and kept very quiet. I was hoping to see some of the local critters. We knew they were there because the plaques had urged us to listen for the cheerful yips of the coyote and the mournful hoot of the owls. Also, we’d seen a big fat skunk the night before on the way to the bathroom. Leticia spotted him first as he was meandering around. Although we didn’t see any of the mule deer, coyotes or owls the peaceful quiet of the malpaís was reward enough.
When the harmonic balancer-slash-pulley finally arrived from Chicago Billy went to install it and found (of course) more trouble. The original had come loose because the bolt holding it in place had sheared at an angle. Billy had to do some major work removing the radiator and grill assembly to finally get the truck running again. Billy’s 7 year-old daughter informed Leticia at some stage that her brother, Billy Jr., age 8 or 9, regarded Leticia as a “foxy lady!” Leticia was struck by this and, I think, a little tickled. At least she continues to remind me, when we talk of our adventure, not to tell anyone about Billy Jr.’s admiration.
I will not tell you how favorably Steve dealt with us when he put the bill for the repair together but I will say he went out of his way looking for ways to make the bill palatable. I know if the repair had been done in a bigger city I would probably have paid twice what Steve charged.
All in all I do not regre
t choosing to go through Carrizozo on route to Carlsbad, and Leticia and I are thankful we broke down in one of the New Mexico’s treasures. We didn’t get to have any of the famous Carrizozo Cider, but I think the sweetness of the folks who treated us so well must be one of the principle ingredients. I look forward to planning my next trip to Carrizozo, and I recommend you put Carrizozo on your list of places to know.
