Good morning, Dimitri! Nice to see you here on your perch, and thanks for guarding the parlor of the Simpson Hotel from intruders overnight. When we got in last night, the table I sat at for writing on my previous visits was set for dinner as we were joining Deborah, Clayton, Gavin, and Richard for dinner to celebrate Richard’s birthday. While Dimitri wasn’t uninvited, he was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well, as there wouldn’t have been enough cake to go around.
This is not a writing trip but a respite from the task, which meant that we slept in, as much as remaining in bed until 6:00 a.m. can be considered sleeping in. By the time we emerged from our ablutions, Furry the Owl, a friend of Little Burrowing Owl who lives in a hole in a field on the outside of town next to their friends, the ground squirrels who live in a nearby mound, was surprised we hadn’t shown up earlier. We informed Furry that we’d been distracted by dreams that saw us looking to the clouds for the red-tailed hawk so we could warn everyone of its presence with chirping sounds. Or was all of that part of a dream? The more likely truth is that Clayton was the one surprised that he was downstairs in the kitchen well before my arrival in the parlor and then shared the song Little Burrowing Owl, from Mr. Elephant with us, which influenced this narrative and subsequently lodged itself in our ears like a worm for the duration of our adventure to stand under the shadow of the moon that promised to blot out the sun in two days.
A surprise road we’d not traveled previously became the route we’d journey on today as we were informed about a major freeway construction project on the west of El Paso, Texas, that we could bypass if we took this southerly trail. Prior to reaching this dusty stretch of highway, Caroline and I had traveled out of Duncan over to Silver City, New Mexico, to visit with old friends Tom and Sandy. The time spent out their way was brief, but we had to consider the two hours we’d lose today going east. This photo was taken about halfway between Deming and Columbus, New Mexico, on Highway 11, and as you might be able to guess from all the dust in the air, it was seriously windy out here in southern New Mexico.
This is the oldest building in Columbus, New Mexico, dating from 1902. Operating as a train depot until 1960, when the line was closed with the track and ties sold off, it is now the local museum next to Highway 9, which used to be the route of the train.
That’s the infamous fence protecting us Americans from the invaders from Mexico who arrive to steal our jobs. While I’m mostly in agreement that people should take the proper steps to emigrate to the U.S., there are pathways for that to happen for those who are well-qualified and educated to bring skills to our country, but we have millions of dirty jobs that average American’s do not want, and this is where those less-fortunate souls to our south come in to take “all of our jobs.”
We passed this art car at 80mph and whipped a quick U-turn to catch the guy before he pulled away. Weapons, ammunition, odds and ends, a couple of images of Greta Thunberg, mannequin parts, antlers, and assorted car parts made up this oddly balanced vehicle out here next to the Mexican border.
It turns out that it’s been 22 years since Caroline and I last passed through this corner of Texas on a trip that took us through Valentine, Marfa, and Terlingua down to Big Bend National Park. This famous Prada Store art installation outside of Marfa didn’t show up until 2005, a few years after our visit.
The historic Holland Hotel, built back in 1928, was where we were checking in to spend the night. Of peculiar coincidence, Deborah and Clayton of the Simpson Hotel are also staying here this evening before continuing eastward to San Antonio, Texas, in the morning. They were a few hours behind us, which had us staying up writing and knitting before they arrived around midnight, as we didn’t want to lose the opportunity for this chance encounter with the proprietors of the Simpson so far away from home.