Deming to Lordsburg

A bit of a slow day today.

Up and a good breakfast of bacon, pancakes (actually just pancake) and eggs. There was whipped butter on my pancake but I never really understood whipped butter so it was the only thing left on my plate.

The plan was to head further into New Mexico and hit White Sands, although strictly speaking, it’s not sand, its gypsum. 275 million years ago, southern Arizona and southern New Mexico was covered by a sea that rose and fell and rose and fell, repeat. Eventually, earth settled down a bit and the sea became lakes.

Rain and snow in the mountains that surrounded the sea (there are some pretty impressive ranges on either side of the park) dissolved the gypsum in rocks and took it down to the lakes. The lakes evaporated, and since there was nothing to dissolve or wash away the gypsum, it stayed put. Hey presto – White Sands.

There’s a whole lot of nothing between Deming and White Sands.

On the way I’m pulled over at some kind of security checkpoint. As I’m not a US citizen I have to go to the side and show my passport and visa. I’m nervous but have nothing to be nervous about. I can’t remember the name of the place I literally just left which makes me more nervous. After a quick round of questions, I’m back on my way.

I step out of the car at the visitor centre and immediately hear the sound of jets from above. Looking up, I see two fighter jets fly over. I’m too slow with the camera – in all fairness it’s still in the car – but am confident I’ll see more later. I buy a Snickers, a V8, postcards and a dishtowel. I’m a tourist.

Once again, I’m almost the only person here.

It’s beautiful.

I drive around very slowly and take lots of photos. 

I attempt to recreate a photo Annabel took of me back in 1999.

I got back

Because I’m the only person here, this means finding something I can rest my camera on and run back and forth up dunes trying to get the right shot. It’s really hot. After a few attempts I get what I decide is good enough. It’s hot and the sand is sticking to me and getting under my clothes.

The sand is very cool. It reflects the sun instead of absorbing it. Good for bare feet, bad for English skin.

After a couple of hours I decide it’s time to head back to Lordsburg. I go to the visitor centre again to buy more water and a cherry cider, which isn’t really cider but is delicious. I’m disappointed I didn’t see any jets or a Stealth Bomber. Here is the photo from 1999. I was so excited to get this shot.

It’s almost a 3 hour drive to Lordsburg, so I put on some music and sing along loudly. Eventually, Lordsburg looms into view. I check into my room and see the giant grasshoppers again. I get a better shot.

I go for a drive around Lordsburg as it seems like a rather weird place. It is. There appears to be nothing going on, anywhere. It’s as if it’s verging on becoming a ghost town. I must be missing something.

Lordsburg used to be a watering hole between Tuscon and El Paso for Mexicans and Indians. It’s the same sort of thing today, but more of a motel hole. It has New Mexico’s first airport at which Amelia Earhart stopped. It’s very odd.

I have dinner at the restaurant next to my motel. Mexican, again. Lovely. Back in my room I sit in bed and write this.

Next up are ghost towns, Portal, Bisbee, Tombstone and the Pima Air and Space Museum (Boneyard!).

I really feel as if my trip is ending now. I’m making the turn back towards Phoenix and things are winding down. It’s an odd, odd feeling.