The traffic around Santa Fe started to annoy me. There was no way to access the national forest near town so we headed off towards Pecos to find public-lands-camping with wireless internet. With this topography it would take a lucky ridge or mesa.
I spent most of the afternoon striking out and then struggling to turn around. It would have been more sensible to drop the trailer and go searching just with the van. Late in the afternoon, options were running out. Rather foolishly I headed up the only dirt road that climbed this part of the mesa. It was so narrow and steep that if someone had been coming down the other way, it would have been a mess. Getting on top of the mesa required flooring it, in first gear.
Finally I reached a flat area, large enough to get turned around. The fork to the right had a tire-swallowing cattle guard. I've never seen one so damaged. The left fork headed back in the direction where there was no internet.
As much as I despised the idea, it was time to admit defeat before I got into serious trouble. There was always the option of retreating to Walmart for the night, and the honor of camping with the RV kindergartners there.
It was the oddest thing to feel peacefully resigned one second, and then angry the next second--anger that could only be relieved by action. I plunged down the left fork, feeling the giddiness of reckless abandon.
I didn't deserve it, but luck seemed to be on my side: the road kept climbing and turning toward the mesa rim. Some unknown and evil road-engineer of 70 years ago was trying to sucker me into fantasies of a perfect camping spot right on the rim, perhaps the highest and coolest mesa in New Mexico. But so far, there was no internet signal. I really didn't know where I was, or whether I could get turned around.
And just then blue sky appeared behind the trees--there could be only one explanation for that--we were almost at the rim! When the road was no more than 100 feet from the now visible rim, a spur road led to a perfect camping site.
The altitude was just a tad under 8000 feet -- probably the highest mesa in New Mexico. Off to the north were the high peaks. Nobody could camp nearby. The nearest town facilities were within bicycling distance. It had a clean line of sight to Glorieta Pass, where there was a cell tower spitting out 3G wireless. Of all the backcountry campsites this is one of my most memorable, not just because of its high-quality but because of the pains it took to stumble upon it. This will always be my favorite type of RV camping.
How many RVers, who say they are out for "adventure", would have enjoyed this?
I spent most of the afternoon striking out and then struggling to turn around. It would have been more sensible to drop the trailer and go searching just with the van. Late in the afternoon, options were running out. Rather foolishly I headed up the only dirt road that climbed this part of the mesa. It was so narrow and steep that if someone had been coming down the other way, it would have been a mess. Getting on top of the mesa required flooring it, in first gear.
Finally I reached a flat area, large enough to get turned around. The fork to the right had a tire-swallowing cattle guard. I've never seen one so damaged. The left fork headed back in the direction where there was no internet.
As much as I despised the idea, it was time to admit defeat before I got into serious trouble. There was always the option of retreating to Walmart for the night, and the honor of camping with the RV kindergartners there.
It was the oddest thing to feel peacefully resigned one second, and then angry the next second--anger that could only be relieved by action. I plunged down the left fork, feeling the giddiness of reckless abandon.
I didn't deserve it, but luck seemed to be on my side: the road kept climbing and turning toward the mesa rim. Some unknown and evil road-engineer of 70 years ago was trying to sucker me into fantasies of a perfect camping spot right on the rim, perhaps the highest and coolest mesa in New Mexico. But so far, there was no internet signal. I really didn't know where I was, or whether I could get turned around.
And just then blue sky appeared behind the trees--there could be only one explanation for that--we were almost at the rim! When the road was no more than 100 feet from the now visible rim, a spur road led to a perfect camping site.
The altitude was just a tad under 8000 feet -- probably the highest mesa in New Mexico. Off to the north were the high peaks. Nobody could camp nearby. The nearest town facilities were within bicycling distance. It had a clean line of sight to Glorieta Pass, where there was a cell tower spitting out 3G wireless. Of all the backcountry campsites this is one of my most memorable, not just because of its high-quality but because of the pains it took to stumble upon it. This will always be my favorite type of RV camping.
How many RVers, who say they are out for "adventure", would have enjoyed this?
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