Caves, UFOs, and Bats

We got a decent night’s sleep but for the a-rythmic and continual beating sound of a nearby oil drilling operation to wake us up. Who would locate a park in the middle of oil fields? Apparently, New Mexico would. And the though the park was blessed with bunnies, it had an unfortunate number of scorpions and tarantulas. I was reminded of all the small and deadly creatures that inhabit the desert when I was joined in the shower by a scorpion.

After a hike around the lake, we set out for Carlsbad Caverns. The caverns were amazing and huge. We took one of the mile long self-guided tours, but unfortunately weren’t able to get on a ranger-led tour of the unimproved caves because they only run those tours on the weekends. When we were done exploring the caves, we realized we had another 6 hours before the next Carlsbad Cavern attraction we wanted to see—the bat flight at sundown.

So what do you do when you’ve got hours to kill in Southeastern New Mexico? You drive to Roswell for the UFO museum, of course! We made the ridiculous drive to Roswell and back mostly so we could squeeze in some more attractions we had heard about for the following day.

You could probably spend hours at the UFO museum “finding the truth”—they even have a research library for you to peruse and check out books. My only critique of the UFO museum was the conspicuous absence of the WB’s Roswell teen drama. What gives? Being at the museum spurred a pretty interesting conversation about Dennis and my different personal beliefs where we forced each other to rank in order of liklihood the existence of seamonsters, chupacabra, yeti, the faked 1969 moon landing, and aliens. Forget about questions of religious and cultural differences, this is the stuff you need to know about the person you plan to spend the rest of your life with.

We made it back to Carlsberg for the bats with time to spare. I was hoping to make up for the lackluster bat video in Austin, but unfortunately no photos or video are allowed. I have to say that the bat flight was incredible and well worth the commute. At about 6:30 pm, millions of bats begin pouring out of the cave in a black cyclone swirl and fly towards their insect hunting grounds in giant cloud formations. A mesmerizing experience and one that makes you feel truly in awe of these tiny mammals.
-K

West Texas, We’ll Not See You for a While

Today was one of our long haul drive days. Having been thorough West Texas a few times, my memory had been that it goes on forever and looks vaguely the same. Contrary to my memory, at least half of I-10 is at least rolling hills, not the flat scrub I remembered. Not exactly my ideal scenery, but didn’t necessary make me wan to drive into a ditch.

Our goal was to make it to Carlsbad Caverns and stay at a park on the outskirts by sundown. But the first victory of leaving Texas and entering New Mexico was undercut by one of the central features of NM—it stinks. Our first indication was a stretch of 3 miles that smelled like an industrial revision of Lysol. Soon after, that odor was replaced by the smell of oil rigs. And just to clear that palette, we then piled on the smell of skunk and manure. Since smell isn’t on e of the 5 senses catered to by NM tourism board, we we were left in the recycled air of the car looking at the rugged beauty of the desert.

Thanks to NM’s Department of Transportation’s decision to make the speed limit 70 mph and above, we made it just in time to set up camp in Brantley State Park, though the last 30 minutes were spent desperately trying to remember the squinting-thumb-measurement-till-sundown trick from childhood to gauge how much daylight we had left. When we were down to 3 thumbs, we turned into the campsite. Our arrival was heralded by no fewer than twelve rabbits of various sizes, including super-fast giant hares. This immediately caused Kristi to regress to her 3 year old self, wildly clapping and squealing, BUNNIES! Not a bad way to end a long drive.
-D

Austin, TX

We’ve been in Austin, TX for a couple of days, hanging out with Dennis’ very fun sister Emily. She gets to play tourist by showing us the attractions. We went to an arts festival on 6th Street, and went to watch thousands of bats emerge from under Congress bridge at dusk (check out my feeble attempts to capture the bats on video).

We woke up the next morning and had breakfast at Las Manitas, a great Mexican diner serving cheap and delicious eats. If you’re in Austin, check it out, it probably won’t be there for long. Later, while kayaking on Ladybird Lake, we passed by who I can only assume was Matthew McConaughey (hard to tell because he was wearing a shirt). The McConaughey was floating by in a tiny sail boat smoking weed and made some small talk about the breeze. Ah, Austin!

So, we highly recommend going to Austin . Not only will you see several men who could be the McConaughey, but Emily could make you the most delicious homemade panini sandwiches and show you the sites.
-K

Hot Springs, AK, aka Bubbatown

Imagine a paper mill. Imagine you were a block down-wind from said paper mill. Now imagine you could capture that odor and cram it into the smallest space possible. Now sit in that room for 10 hours and you'll have a close aproximation of what its was like to drive to Arkansas from the Smokies. That kind of powerful odor has a nearly psychotropic effect at times. While I rationally knew all I needed to do was find a motel with a working shower somewhat near our destination, I had moments where I thought about driving the entire way to my sister Emily's in Austin, TX (for context that's about a 20 hour drive).

Stopping in Hot Springs, one of the two AR towns claiming to be the home of Bill Clinton, was worth it for more than just the shower. Hot Springs is a combination of an Ocean City, MD with a Berkeley Springs, WV, so picture a quaint historic town surrounded by natural beauty, combined with all the tie-dyed keychains and personalized airburshed unicorn shirts your heart could ever desire. We rolled in too late to do a full tour of the bath houses, but did get to walk around the hillside park behind the bath houses and see the "display" hot springs. Pretty hot!

One of the curious things we've noticed while touring the south is that the tourist attractions seem almost exclusively visited by the over-70 set and bikers. At least we're now feeling younger and cleaner than most! I guess we'll see how this theory plays itself out through TX...
-D

Older than Many, Cleaner than Some...

We saw this sign advertising a motel "on the strip" in Pigeon Forge, TN. Across the street was a sign reading "Welcome" Welcome Center. For non- country music history buffs, Pigeon Forge is the birthplace of Dolly Parton, and adjacent to her recently bankrupted Dollywood theme park. We were just a little too late to take in this attraction, but judging from the businesses that sprung up around it, we weren't missing much--lots of Appalachian and Jesus-themed supper club productions.

The drive out of the Smokies to Pigeon Forge was beautiful, as was the Pigeon River itself. In the early morning, it looks like steam pours off the river, giving it an overall smokey appearance--very cool.
But after two chilly nights in a national park with no showers, we were definitely feeling more like the commercial strip of Pigeon Forge, that is, "older than many, cleaner than some," and ready to drive on to what awaits in Arkansas.
--Kristi & Dennis

The First of Many National Parks

For those who had the great joy and honor of seeing our house put up for sale, you may have set eyes upon our realtor Mark Rutstein's photo of the Smokey Mountains (which much improved the look of our bathroom). What you'll notice here is a picture of the same location, which isn't as beautiful. While the Smokey Mountains are beautiful, they don't photograph well (much like the moon, I recently discovered).

Our first hike was to the highest pint in the Smokeys (though I guess when you drive most of the way up the mountain, it's cheating!) We climbed the steep, paved path up to a bizarre future-mod ramp with great views, even if a little foggy.
-D

Asheville, NC

Finally the car moves. In an attempt to get to New Zealand, the first thing we had to do was drive to Asheville, NC. And as a place to start our travels, it may be one of the better places. Nestled in the hills of the Smokey Mountains, Asheville is a wonderful combination of a mountain town, an eco village, and a sleepy southern 'burg. Even better than the city itself was being so warmly welcomed by our friends Jean and Boris, who we hadn't seen in years, as well as their great roommates and adorable son, Sava. With some world travelers in the bunch, we got some good tips, like exotic fruits to try in NZ and Jean's parting words, "remember, everything's temporary"! Pretty reassuring...