Max Vending's Alien Adventure

Pecos Max
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11/10-- It's 8am, Nov. 10, in Taos, New Mexico and that means it's time to sing happy birthday to the United States Marine Corps. Happy Birthday, Chesty, wherever you are. We spent the next hour circling Taos trying to find our way out. Obviously Taos Mountain doesn't want us to leave. After firing Max as navigator and putting Izzard on the job we find 518 and head south on the High Road. Missing the first important turn leads to another firing and an extra 100 miles of place I don't care to see again, going through Sapello and picking up I25 West at Las Vegas. We stopped at Pecos Pueblo Historical Site. Interesting but there is better to be seen elsewhere.

Howard the Artist pulls off the very difficult 'Double Cross', Santa Fe, NM
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Just outside of Santa Fe I called Howard, an artist acquaintance from Seattle now living in Santa Fe, and with only an hour's notice he graciously agreed to meet me for lunch at the Plaza Restaurant on the historical Santa Fe Plaza. I had a bowl of mole (chocolate/chile sauce) over smoked chicken and cashews that even now makes my mouth water. We walked to the Cross of the Martyrs overlooking the town then over to Canyon Road where he took his leave. Thank you, Howard, for the company and conversation. I hope the museum purchases your piece and rockets you to fame and fortune. I walked past and poked around about 200 galleries (Santa Fe's art market is 3rd behind NY and LA) then went back to the Plaza where I saw a photograph by Steichen of a SW canyon, the only one known to exist. Yours to have for $900,000. It was, for me, a thrill and honor to see it. I also saw 8 or 9 men and women with black eye patches which led me to conclude that a pirate convention was in town or that this is a pretty tough place to live.

Max experiences 'Lost Time"

Tent Rocks Nat'l Monument
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We left Santa Fe at 5pm, heading south on I25 into a glorious sunset of oranges, yellows and blues that explained the vibrant colors I saw in the paintings on Canyon Road. 17 miles and an exit to Tent Rocks National Monument (hot tip from Howard the Hiker) found us in front of a locked gate on Cochiti Pueblo land. I set up and computered for 2 hours then snuggled into the bag at 10pm only to be rousted out by tribal police at 11pm. We found an Army Corps campground a few miles away and got comfortable. 40 degrees F and it's great sleeping. Good night M&M, your letter rides next to us in FYI's cab.

Hikers on Canyon Trail, Tent Rocks,NM
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11/11--Yes, again with the 6am rise to be in front of the gate. Someone showed up at 8am to open and we're on our way to Tent Rocks, an area of unique geological quality. We took the trail recommended and enjoyed a perfect morning making images and talking with a retired woman from Reno, NV visiting her mother at the pueblo and another woman, a historian from Minnesota now living in Geneva, Switzerland, in town for a convention and seeing the SW for the first time. I didn't realize it was Sunday until a flood of hikers charged past me. I re-organized the truck, downloaded the morning's images, ate lunch and got back on I25 South by 1pm. We charged past Albuquerque and did not give into the temptation of Petroglyph NM or the giant Trader Joe's seen from the highway. We did,however, deviate from the chosen path  by turning east on I60 to see the Salt Missions and travel the Camino Real route, passing serious dead truck farms with 50 or 60 each. There seems to be an engine hoist in each yard connected to an engine that hasn't moved in years. Lots of Detroit steel oxidizing in the sun. We stopped in Abo for the mission ruins and MountainAir for ice and a delicious Blue Bunny ice cream novelty. Losing the light in MountainAir, we turned south on 55 and looked to the right to see pale orange and blue sky with a new moon above looking like one of God's clipped fingernails. Looking right then left there are no lights at all except the stars.

Ponderosa survivor, Tent Rocks, NM
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Setting course right down the middle line, I choose the night's music to help me open those rusty doors to my mind's cobwebby spaces. Pink Floyd to sneak open with snake oil and black lightening, Annie Lennox to seduce open with a lilt of the head and a devilish twist of the hips and Meatloaf to just kick the suckers in with a primal scream, appropriate for this road's night. Feeling perky and making a democratic decision helped by a bag of dirty clothes we decided to ride the dark to Roswell and an all-night laundromat to catch up on journals and other business. Catching 380 east at Carrizozo we cruise in the night through the Lincoln County War and Billy the Kid, arriving in Roswell at 8pm. After a quick recon we settle in at a WIFI coffeehouse and do computers until 11pm. Down the road a bit FYI chooses our first WalMart camping experience. Cozying up next to a giant homes-on-wheels we prepare for a decent slumber period. Good night, Al the Architect

Colors of Santa Fe, NM
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11/12-- Sleep was good until 2am when the sweeper contract arrived to pretty up the parking lot. Giant Hoover sounds until 4am. We try for another hour then give up on sleep, slam on some shoes and hike the vast lot east to the Starbuck's, lit up like the Lost City of Cibola. LizBel and Christa set me up with a coffee and scone and informed me I was sitting on top of a giant aquifer that makes grass green and thus cows and milk which leads to a great big mozzarella factory. Who knew? Christa then hustled me out the door and pointed to the road I was to take. I did so and arrived at the Bitter Lake Nat'l Wildlife Refuge. I stepped out into the sound of 5000 sandhill cranes waking up and getting ready to head south into Mexico. It was like being in a stadium of 10,000 hometown fans as the local boys score the last points in overtime to take the championship. 4 hours and 280 images later I head back to Starbucks to process them into the data banks. Thank you, Christa, I wouldn't have wanted to miss that. WalMart's for fruit and vitamins, the Rib Crib for chop sandwiches and a beer and now we're ready to tackle the UFO Museum. I loved that it was tacky yet serious, presenting days worth of information on mimeo sheets and a couple of cool dioramas. I would do it again. Back on the street Max claims 'lost time' but it's really only the peach schnapps he's smuggled aboard. Gnomes can be sneaky little buggers. I picked up a native guide at the gift shop. Ed the Alien rides in his own little spaceship which should be helpful as we scan the night stars for intelligent life. After the laundromat we'll backtrack on 380 west and pick up 54 south to the 3 Rivers Petroglyphs and White Sands. Supposed to rain tomorrow so we'll just have to adjust and flexate (new word!). Good night to the crew of the Starship Redmond Parks.