Back on the road again. Last night Debbie, Robert, and I went to an authentic Mexican restaurant (not TexMex, Debbie assured me). Excellent fare. Very hot, tasty salsa, as was my meal, pulled pork with rice and beans and green chili sauce on the side. Yum! My lips and mouth were burning even after I finished the meal.
I learned that my Uncle Charlie had served as a truck driver in the Red Ball Express during World War II. The trucks traveled in huge convoys along roads marked with red balls, since officials did not want to commit the intended routes to maps. Roads were cleared for the trucks, also marked with red balls, as they drove through Europe after D-Day to deliver supplies to the Allied troops. Most of the convoy drivers (not my uncle) were African Americans. During one of my uncle’s transports, he was shot in the leg. Shrapnel remained in that leg for the rest of his life; he couldn’t have an MRI because of it. His daughter (my cousin) Debbie said he was slated to receive a Purple Heart for his heroics but apparently he never received it.
I followed the mountain pass through Madrid to Sante Fe before heading north on the interstate to Colorado Springs. Amazing terrain. Robert told me the mountains look different depending on how the light hits them. He was right. Sometimes they look purple, At other times, brown or green. Up close, they are covered with shrubs and bushes. Red adobe houses pop out from the greenery along the ridges. From a distance they look like little Monopoly houses, but on closer view some of them are expansive, fancy, and no doubt expensive haciendas. Occasionally a house could be seen wedged higher up into the side of the mountain. What a view, but I don’t think I’d like the process of getting there. And I’m sure John, who does not like heights, would not enjoy being on the brink of death every time he stepped outside.
I couldn’t resist stopping in Madrid (pronounced MAD-rid, as in CAL-is, Maine). John and I had come upon the place about 10 years ago on one of our trips to New Mexico, and we loved it. Once an abandoned mining town, it has become home to artists and old hippies. This is not Sante Fe chic. For starters, when I arrived at 10:30 a.m. about half the stores hadn’t opened yet. I asked a jewelry maker whose store was opened what the deal was. Thought they might have closed for the season. But no, they just don’t feel like getting up that early.
There is everything from a photo arcade (where you pay to stick your head through the hole and take your picture; you supply the camera) to fine jewelry to gorgeous painted horses to wooden sculptures to boots and leather goods and much more. I talked to a guy named Ron who was painting a table at a shop owned by Lorie, the creator of the painted horse. Thinking I might find a chicken for John, I asked Ron if he had any chickens. I later learned that he owned all kinds of animals, including a parrot he raised from birth. He looked at me strangely and said, “Yes, I do have chickens. How did you know?” He thought I might have been a neighbor or someone who knew about his flock. When we got that straightened out, I explained about the chicken, but no sculptures of that type there. Lorie, however, offered to ship the horse to Maine at no extra cost.
I made a quick stop at a pawn shop in Sante Fe recommended by Ron. When I told the woman Ron had sent me, she sang his praises for the next 10 minutes. She told me how Ron had found the poor struggling baby parrot and bottle fed him and prechewed his food to help the bird survive. Now he’s the proud father of a pet whose life expectancy is 90 years.
After a long, 6-1/2 journey, I landed in Colorado Springs at the AirBNB I had reserved. Indie the dog was here barking a greeting, but the homeowners weren’t at home. After I called on my cellphone and left a message, I called John for a bit of help. He emailed them for me. As soon as he did that, I got a call and an apology. This is an army community, and Adam, the husband, had been called to the base unexpectedly. The wife, Sydney was on her way home but hadn’t arrived yet. No prob. I drove to the nearby mall and got a pizza. By the time I returned, Sydney greeted me at the door. Indie wasn’t quite as sure that I was acceptable; she spent most of the time looking at me with a wary eye with a low, quiet growl just in case I got too friendly.
Sydney and Adam have been married about 2-1/2 years and have been offering an AirBNB room to rent since March. They used AirBNB when Adam was first assigned here before they bought their house, and they liked it so much they decided to offer a room under the AirBNB system. Sydney was a bit hesitate to continue renting when Adam was deployed for four months to Afghanistan, but she’s glad she did. It gave her company and someone to talk with while Adam was gone. One guest even fixed the garbage disposal for her.
I’ll post more photos tomorrow. I have a long day ahead of me: 9 hours’ drive to Omaha, and I’ll lose an hour when I cross the time zone. Now it’s off to bed.