December road trip day 2 - Miles 829-1284

I opened my eyes just before 5:00 a.m. to the sight of a faint light to the east.  The sun was not quite ready to show itself...and I was not quite ready to get out of the truck to go inside the rest area and pee.  I've been known to just go where I feel like it (if no one is around). Usually I'm in the middle of nowhere and while I could have easily walked in front of the truck to take care of business, the temperature readout on the truck screamed "IT"S 12 DEGREES OUTSIDE YOU BETTA GO INSIDE".  So I bundled up and walked BRISKLY to the rest area bathroom.  This is not your average ordinary rest area.  It doubles as a tornado shelter if needed.  They are common throughout the Texas panhandle and being in tornado alley I'm sure it's a welcome sight to summer travelers if they happen to be in the area during bad weather.  It's also very well done...looks almost like a museum.  Lots of history and displays.  I wouldn't normally think of a rest area as a tourist attraction but they have done this one up well.  I could have stayed for awhile and soaked up some history of the Texas plains, but my eagerness to get back on the road took over.  I BRISKLY walked back to the truck with the only sound being wheels churning down nearby HWY 287...being drowned out by chattering teeth.  After firing up the Hemi and merging onto the blacktop, that excitement I spoke about in day one took over yet again.  Slowly but surely the sun rose behind me and I smiled to myself due to the realization that I was headed west.  Not towards home, but towards new adventures.  Makes me smile now just thinking about it.

Getting close to Amarillo I again found myself looking out to the right for signs of I-40. I've written about it in earlier blogs, but as a kid I used to always do this.  For me, this was a sign that part 2 of the trip was about to begin.  Once we headed north through Amarillo, the landscape started to change dramatically as HWY 287 started to gain elevation.  Trees became more and more scarce and the terrain becomes more hilly.  There are places along the way that you can look back and see downtown Amarillo from many miles away.  So I stopped there to get gas and some breakfast before getting to that change of scenery.  Pumping gas when the wind is blowing like crazy (it's always like this in the panhandle) and the temperature is in the teens is NOT fun.  However it was much better than being at home.  As I was pumping gas I was thinking about all the times I had stopped at this same station in the past...sometimes in 100 degree heat wishing for relief.  Much different than the air this morning.  I thought about how many times my dad had stopped here.  Had he used this same exact pump as me?  What if there was some sort of time warp and perhaps my Dad was pumping gas here at the same time in some alternate universe?  Maybe the cold was freezing some brain cells, but what else is there to do when waiting for 24 gallons of gas to make its way into my tank.  Being nostalgic makes me happy and sad at the same time.  I can't get my Dad off my mind.

As I made my way north to Dumas, the landscape looks exactly like it did when I was a kid riding in my special place above the cab in the motorhome...with one exception.  As I near Dumas, I see the giant wind turbines dotting the plains.  Most are moving, some are not.  I've seen a few of these wind-farms before and I wonder if they truly cost effective.  A simple Google search would probably tell me, but it's not my top priority right now.  And aside from the giant Walmart Supercenter south of town, Dumas pretty much looks the same as I remember it.  Speaking of Wally World...for some reason by the time I started rolling into town I was getting extremely tired.  I wasn't completely comfortable last night and I didn't get the best night's sleep.  So to be on the safe side, I rolled into the parking lot next to a couple big rigs and a motorhome or two and took my place amongst them for some shut-eye.  After a quick nap and feeling better, I jumped back on the road into town.  Rolling on 287 it just looks the same as always.  Getting to the junction of Hwy 87, I leave the familiar 287 signs that I've been seeing since just after lunch yesterday in Decatur...hundreds of miles and many hours ago.

Before leaving town another piece of real estate near and dear to my heart approaches on the right.  A small town park with picnic benches and playground equipment come to view.  This is another stop on the Isbell family nostalgia trail.  We used to stop here for lunch and picnic, similar to what we used to do on the now extinct picnic area near Decatur Texas on Hwy 305.  If I'm not mistaken, the playground equipment looks to be the same exact pieces as what we used to play on when I was a kid.  We would eat then spend some time just expending energy and having a great time.  I remember seeing pictures of my Aunt Lou swinging and she had the biggest smile on her face.  Not sure why that particular picture stands out in my mind, but those pictures...and my Aunt Lou...are now but a memory.  She passed away earlier this year.  I didn't stop there this time, just smiled and remembered being care free and happy here. I hope they never pave it over and put a shopping mall here.  I would be crushed.

Passing through the farmland and towns of Dalhart and Texline, the outline of small mountains and buttes start coming into view.  Heading into New Mexico, the first signs that another dramatic landscape change is about to take place.  First it's one or two...then more...then more...until in the distance Sierra Grande takes shape.  It's not totally imposing, however it is the biggest single mountain in the country (as opposed to mountains that are part of a chain).  Another part of the Isbell nostalgia trail is gone...the old wooden "Welcome to New Mexico" sign is long gone, replaced by a boring metal sign.  We used to always stop and take pictures here...with the females complaining about their hair because the winds constantly blow strong here.

Passing around Sierra Grande, the familiar sight of Capulin Mountain warms my heart.  I won't go into too much detail here because I've explained this in detail in earlier blogs, however I never miss an opportunity to drive to the top.  And because winter is not really travel season around these parts, the usual crowds were not there and I pretty much had the place to myself.  I walked around a bit, ate a sandwich or two, had my nostalgia moments of past visits as a kid looking west to get my first glances at the Rocky Mountains many miles away, and eventually pressed on.

Capulin Mountain from a previous trip.

Making my way north from here, I ventured over to Johnson Mesa.  This place has such extreme winters that most of the population move away.  Some ghost farms and old barns remain, and a stone church from the late 1800's still stands today.  An old snow covered cemetery sits across the street.  The whole time I was up there, not one single car passed me by.  I was alone on top of a cold, deserted plateau...and I couldn't be happier.  Well, if I had some hot pizza I may be a wee bit happier...and maybe some beef jerky...

Lonely Hwy 72 on Johnson's Mesa, New Mexico.  The old stone church is on the left, some abandoned buildings on the right, and the snow and cloud covered Rockies are in the distance on the horizon.

I made my way to Raton, New Mexico which is where I pick up the interstate for the first time in many hundreds of miles.  This is the gateway to Colorado.  Raton Pass takes me up and over the mountains and down into Trinidad, Colorado.  On the downside of this pass, the Sangre De Christo mountains come into view.  Finally made it to the big stuff.  But as I look to my left, I can see ominous clouds and I start to worry that I may get caught in a snowstorm.  I have a route planned out to head west from Trinidad over the Highway of Legends and over to Alamosa.  Knowing that there are a couple high altitude passes along the way, I start to think I'm going to have to make other plans.  I do not want to get caught on the Colorado side of Raton Pass in a snowstorm.  I would be surrounded by mountains to the west and south, and plains to the north and east.  A snowstorm in any of these situations would not be a good thing.  After driving west towards Alamosa, the snowflakes started hitting my windshield and I did an immediate about-face and hightailed it over Raton Pass back into New Mexico before they shut down I-25.  After a much welcomed shower and change of clothes, I grabbed some grub a restaurant called Mulligans and settled in to the semi comfortable bed at Motel 6.  Not too shabby.

Before hitting the sack for the night, I looked at a few maps and started planning out day 3.  Plan A was to head back east through Colorado after a brief stop in Alamosa over to Kansas to see Dodge City.  But not wanting to risk blizzard conditions on the plains, I decided to go with plan B and head south on I-25 to an old fort and at least one ghost town I wanted to see.  No matter what, Plan A, Plan B, Plan ZZ, I was no less happy to choose any route.  I was ecstatic to be where I was.  I went to bed and slept good, tired from my day's adventures (and lack of sleep the night before) and I can't be certain, but I believe I closed my eyes with a smile on my face.