Whatever you do, don't try to drive a large trailer or Class A motorhome to the old mining town of Mogollon NM. You might possibly make the 9 mile climb of a couple thousand feet, but only if nobody is coming the opposite direction. I made it because it was Thursday and the two businesses in the town were closed, so nobody did come down when I was going up.
Once again this shows the advantage of small RVs; I can't wait until mine is less than forty feet long, combined.
What a marvelous first impression the old place made. It's in a ravine that wasn't too tight, fortunately. Greenery, running water, and butterflies are everywhere. It would be nice to know some names of these beautiful insects, but when something sounds like a big project it gets put off.
This guy looks like a mountain biker doing an end-over:
The next impression was just as pleasant: a small, fast-moving stream ran right down Main Street. A small RV could squat overnight on a gravel turnoff at the edge of town and listen to that stream at night, and wake up to it in the morning, instead of to roaring pickup trucks and boom cars.
A couple dozen people do live in the town. Some of them had to walk over the little stream just to get to their house.
The town certainly had funky people and houses:
That last one was especially strange. It was sheet metal sided.
This was a great time to contemplate the difference between the unplugged-in lifestyle and the more typical frantic madness and noise of a city. Next time, maybe.
Once again this shows the advantage of small RVs; I can't wait until mine is less than forty feet long, combined.
What a marvelous first impression the old place made. It's in a ravine that wasn't too tight, fortunately. Greenery, running water, and butterflies are everywhere. It would be nice to know some names of these beautiful insects, but when something sounds like a big project it gets put off.
This guy looks like a mountain biker doing an end-over:
The next impression was just as pleasant: a small, fast-moving stream ran right down Main Street. A small RV could squat overnight on a gravel turnoff at the edge of town and listen to that stream at night, and wake up to it in the morning, instead of to roaring pickup trucks and boom cars.
A couple dozen people do live in the town. Some of them had to walk over the little stream just to get to their house.
The town certainly had funky people and houses:
That last one was especially strange. It was sheet metal sided.
This was a great time to contemplate the difference between the unplugged-in lifestyle and the more typical frantic madness and noise of a city. Next time, maybe.
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