Cumulative Miles: 6,308
States Visited: 18
Number of Speeding Tickets: Still 1
Lesson Learned: Choose byways over highways - unless you're in a hurry
(Sunrise in Taos)
We really had an awesome time in Taos, but it was time to move on. We knew we wanted to go to Oklahoma, although we weren't sure how far into it we'd get. First of all, we had to go over the Sangre De Christe mountains on two lane roads. These are the southernmost part of the Rockies, their last gasp if you will, and beyond them to the east lay the great planes. We wound our way up them and then down them, to reach those plains.
Robert described it to me like this: "Leaving Taos valley was bittersweet, given all the accumulated emotions we have experienced nonstop since the beginning of our trip and ending in this beautiful desert valley. There was no way for me to sleep with the sun rising, and with me wrapped in blankets, with a warm coffee mug at 7 am, trying to hold onto and incorporate all we've seen and to thank the universe for sharing it with us.
Taos is surrounded by the Sangre De Christe mountains, which are relatively high. For instance, Wheeler Peak is 13,116 feet and Pueblo Peak is 12,705 feet, both looming over the beautiful Taos Pueblo which we had visited. These peaks are the highest at the southern end of the rockies, which diminish relatively quickly in size from this point on.
How do we go east over or under these peaks, but through the Cimarron Canyon. It's a rich and diverse valley with huge stands of pine forests, steeply sloped with, at last, a first glimpse of aspen trees, not in their full glory yet, but promising their golden shimmering colors in days to come. It was amazing to climb from the desert floor to a lush valley, nurtured by the rains at these higher altitudes. This beautiful road continued for an hour, each turn revealing another vista. We passed a very large swath of mountainsides that bear recent burn scars. Already, the ground level shrubs and deciduous trees are beginning to thrive. Ultimately, the forest will be invigorated as it regrows.
(Cimarron Canyon State Park)
Winding and twisting our way, we were suddenly transferred from alpine heights to a high meadow plain extending for miles and miles. We descended again through more twists and turns until all of a sudden, we reached the flat plain of the prairie. We then passed from New Mexico into Oklahoma, traversing hundreds of miles of totally flat, uninhabited plateau, filled with elk, cattle, sheep, corn, and I think some sugar cane. Endless sight lines in all directions. It was mesmerizing for the drive, which took four hours along the old the Sante Fe trail. We consciously chose to avoid interstate highways, opting for ordinary byways which are more interesting by far.
I find that the road, the scenery, and the silence adds to the process of quieting the mind and finding a way to detach, all while still minding the 70 mph speed limit. We ended up after six hours in a little town which has a decent hotel and restaurant and will serve as a launching point for tomorrow morning. No longer focusing on detours and getting lost, this is the part of the trip where the direction due east is preferred. Not sure where tomorrow's home base will be, but It's a great country. The spontaneity is part of the journey. There is always a place you'll find a bed and a warm meal.
Thanks Robert! Now back to me: The town at which the mountains end and the plains begin is called Cimarron, after the Canyon I suppose. With a bustling population of 762, it's the fourth most populous municipality in Union County. Yes, you read that correctly.
When I say it was where the mountains stopped, I mean it. They literally just ended. It was quite abrupt. Within five minutes of winding down the last of the mountain road, we were on extremely flat land. It was a bit disconcerting, to be honest. We stopped and had a coffee in a sweet little hangout (Think Central Perk, New Mexico style) then got back on the road.
I tried to snap a pic of the mountains behind us in the rearview mirror. If you squint, you can kind of see it. Mountains behind us - Flat land ahead.
Neither of us have been to Oklahoma before, so we wanted to visit the state, even though we don't have a particular destination in mind. I think Oklahoma would be a state that some folks call "the flyover states." Others call them "the square states." Both are apt, if not necessarily kind. They're also red states and the two of us are really quite blue. We passed first through a small town called Clayton, which appeared sad and quite dead. The two blocks of downtown were mostly empty storefronts. We did find a coffee shop, but I got this uncomfortable feeling walking in. As we entered, a man was exiting and held the door for us. I said "thank you" and we preceded in. But then I noticed he was chuckling at something and rolling his eyes. Was it at us, two obviously nonlocals? I had on shorts and a sleeveless tee and Robert was wearing his panama hat, but I don't think we looked crazy. Maybe I was imagining things - being paranoid - but I left feeling a little uneasy.
(The blue part of the sign says "Welcome to Clayton")
As most of you know, I was raised in the south, not in a particularly progressive area. My world rapidly changed between the time I graduated high school and the time I reached age 24, during which I came out, had four years of liberal arts education, spent a semester in Europe, moved to Pennsylvania, and settled outside of Philadelphia. 35 years later, I identify very little with my North Carolina roots and almost entirely as a suburban liberal. I don't have an unkind view of my North Carolina home. To me it feels like a familiar old shoe you loved, but that doesn't fit anymore. I want to feel the same way here in middle America. I don't want to prejudge folks and their attitudes. I don't want to contribute to the 'us vs. them' place America seems to be in right now. At the same time, I don't want to be judged. I think the next few days will be a time for me to be as open as I can and I want to challenge myself to be kind in my thinking about others and as non-defensive as possible. This should be an interesting experience.
Onto a different subject. The roads in Oklahoma are good roads. They're flat and wide and as straight as can be. The land wasn't completely flat, but almost. The towns are small and miles and miles apart here on the panhandle. In between are the endless fields in all directions. At this time of the year, most of the crops have been harvested. We did pass some corn and soybeans still growing, but these were probably second plantings and destined for the combine within a few weeks, if not days. We saw a few antelope and a few elk and I even saw a gopher.
We ended up in a town called Guymon, still in the panhandle. We're here mostly because we got tired of driving and because it was the only town within 75 miles with a chain hotel we could recognize. We're going to eat at a steakhouse tonight (we're in beef country, right?). Tomorrow we'll head to i-don't-know-where. Probably Kansas. We do want to spend a day or two in and around Kansas City, so our route will be generally north and east.
Thanks for following!!!
