Occupation of Independence

Now that the second big holiday of summer has passed, it's time to admit that this summer's plan is not working so well. The plan was to visit as many festivals as possible in high-altitude towns of the Four Corner states. Towns tolerate boondockers a day before and a day after the event, since many of the artists and musicians get by like that. People are fun to be around, during festival times. It was such a brilliant idea. But I'm used to them not working out. I got the idea while enjoying the free Blues Festival in the Little Pueblo in southern New Mexico. I quickly found out how rare free festivals are, and the closer you get to Colorado, the worse it gets. No doubt, the reader thinks that RV boondockers have an obsession about the word 'free.' Actually, the problem with paying to hear music performances is what it does to my expectations. It's more fun to stumble in to a free performance, with low expectations, and be surprised on the upside. A secon

It didn't rain on the parade, yesterday, the Fourth of July. The hard rain held off until afternoon. When I got back to my trailer in the national forest I was astonished to see that it had literally snowed on the Fourth of July, in New Mexico. (Of course, the campsite was at 10400 feet.) Only a trace remained, but two hours earlier it might have been impressive. But the snow inspired us to do what we had been thinking about: walking from town proper up to the top of the ski mountain, and then riding the ski lift down. I was sure that my little poodle had never ridden a ski lift, and I couldn't even remember if I had. We stopped at the bottom to buy our ticket. Not only was there no charge for the dog, but there was no charge for me either, as long as I walked up and rode down . No chubby, motorized tourist would even consider that option; they did it the other way around.   It was a nice walk up to the top. I've never deliberately sought out ski areas in the

Overdue for a vigorous hike I chose to hike up a cell tower mountain that overlooks Red River, NM. Cell tower mountains almost guarantee you a short steep hike, with a commanding view on top. They are under-rated as hiking opportunities. The hike started in an area logged ten years ago, so there were plenty of stumps to look at, but also lush grass, flowers, and a new generation of trees. I just appreciated the open views while they lasted. Soon we were bushwhacking through a typical forest—opaque and gloomy. Plenty of strawberry vines grew there, but no berries. But the walking was still fairly easy since we walked a ridge line, where trees are less thick. We enjoyed the views at the top, and then put it in reverse. Things went 'downhill' on the way back down, in more ways than one. The GPS stopped working. Apparently it had just barely worked on the way up, but on the descent we had left the ridgeline, so the forest became too thick. What a ridiculous Catch-22: the

Before this trip I saw New Mexico as the least interesting of the Four-Corner States. Perhaps this still seems true with natural scenery. But the last couple months have convinced me that New Mexico has a more interesting culture than the other three, with its Spanish and pueblo Indian heritage, funky old buildings, artsies, etc. In New Mexico you have a better chance of feeling you're outside the USA than in the other three states. Where could you find fine old wrecks, adobe buildings with corrugated metal roofs, like in New Mexico? Certainly not in Utah, where everything is squeaky clean and modern. Arizona is just California. Colorado is full of transplanted midwesterners and Texans. That's fine, but it's boring.  On my way from Santa Fe to Taos recently, I went through small villages like Chimayo and Trunchas that reminded me of Mexico, without the hassle of a border crossing. At first you notice the poverty. Then you notice much more, because you can— the stree

Taos/Red River, NM: Yesterday I was struggling with the annual RVer problem of where to camp on the Fourth of July. No solution came to mind, so I tried to solve the problem the way a full time RVer should: I tried to drive away from the problem. I made it all of twenty miles north of Taos when I started lusting for land that was pinched between the Sangre de Cristo mountains and the Rio Grande gorge. Unaccustomed as I am to dropping into coffee shops, I did so in Questa because it advertised wireless internet. The bucolic barista said that she was shutting down, and recommended Red River, the little ski town/tourist trap of the Enchanted Circle drive. I don't spend much time in tourist traps, but Red River is the highest town in New Mexico. With a heat wave coming, that sounded pretty good. What fun it is to improvise at the dashboard--to head off with no hard and fast goal in mind, and work things out as you go. But was I really foolish enough to go to a tourist trap