1/29/17,
“Thwarted Again”
Albuquerque
International Sunport, New Mexico (ABQ)
By the time
I close this entry tonight, this Travelogue will be 1,000,000 words long. That is, a million words that I have typed
into the Word document that I have saved on my laptop. That is not a small amount. The entire Harry Potter saga, all seven
books, was less than a million words.
This document is not even four years old. It relates everything that has occurred over
my travels, the good, and the bad. It
relates the challenges I have faced, and I have overcome many of them and
failed at overcoming others. It has many
triumphant airport entries at the conclusion of trips, but that is not what
this entry will be. This entry will,
unfortunately, be mostly the bad, and it will relate challenges that I could
not overcome.
When I wrote at the end of
my last trip here with Connor, I said that “I shall return,” but I said it
triumphantly, in celebration of the (mostly) successful trip we had together
and the sites we would see in the future.
The one biggest failure of that trip was that the stamp was broken at
Taos, and the Plaque was not up yet. My
readers know how important stamps and Plaques are to me. I would need to return to Taos, which was the
purpose of this trip, to get the stamp and see the Plaque. Well, as luck would have it, Taos was closed in
its entirety today. No stamp, no
Plaque. I was thwarted again.
In fact, that seemed to be the theme of this
trip. There were five sites we set out
to visit this trip, and three of them wound up requiring a return visit. This was not a successful trip. It was a failure. I will need to return, and then, at last, if
all goes well, I will get me Stamp and Plaque at Taos and visit the other sites
I need to see to say, “New Mexico Complete.”
I have to blame myself for planning this poorly, though the main site,
Taos, was unavoidable. The website
clearly said that it was open today, and I checked both when I booked the
flight and again yesterday. However,
Capulin Volcano NM, the closure was surely announced before I left, and Valles
Caldera, I could have called ahead to learn that the brochures weren’t ready. If I had known that, I could have planned a
trip that only visited the sites that would not necessitate a return visit
while also including Gila Cliff Dwellings NM in the trip. I will return, though, either in March or
May, and I will be properly prepared that time.
Okay, so how did this disappointing and frustrating day go?
After I closed last night, we got toasted
and attempted to have a good time, despite Connor’s insistence on blasting
music from his phone that I found jarring and annoying, despite my frequent
pleas for him not to play anything at all.
Apparently his idea of a good time did not take into account what
bothered me. Instead, I wound up just
scrolling through my phone, doing my best to ignore the loud music, as we drank
our whiskey without talking. We went to
bed right at midnight, and we were able to sleep in a bit, as I had
overestimated how long the drives were today.
We went to get breakfast, and I got something I had never seen before: a
breakfast quesadilla. It was okay but
nothing special, and the coffee was disappointing.
We got ready and headed to Taos Pueblo. When we got there, we saw the words that
broke my heart: TAOS PUEBLO CLOSED.
FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There was a maintenance worker, who said
that he thought the Plaque was inside the gate and that the Stamp had been
repaired (or replaced), but we would not be able to get either due to the
closure. We would need to return. What to do now? It was 10 AM, and we were two hours under
budget for the day.
We went the casino,
which was only slot machines, but I won a small amount of money, and Connor
lost slightly more than I won. We lit up
Caobas and headed towards Los Alamos, which would wind up being the major
activity of the day, much to my chagrin.
I just wanted a stamp and a picture, but we would wind up spending three
hours there. I suppose that stress
levels were high at this point, as Connor hadn’t included anything he wanted to
do on the itinerary, and I didn’t want to go out last night, which he wanted
to, and two of the three things I wanted to do so far were closed. The trip was not going well.
Okay, I am now about to reach my millionth
word, so I would like to celebrate this significant moment. As of writing this, the word “moment” is my
millionth word. It was quite a feat, and
I am rightfully proud of the effort I put into this. When I first wrote in Rosalie, I never
expected this document to ever become this large. It has truly taken a life of its own.
Okay, so we got to the VC in Los Alamos, part
of the newly created Manhattan Project NHP.
There was a brief walking route around town, and a science museum at the
end of the route. It would take about an
hour to get to the museum, including stops, and the museum would not open until
1 PM. That would be perfect timing. We did our business at the VC and then
started walking the path. I lit up a
Graycliff, and Connor died me to walk on the frozen pond. I judged it to be safe enough and took him up
on the challenge. There was no
issue. We took a ceremonial picture
after he lit up his Graycliff, too, and then walked around town.
We saw such sites as the Oppenheimer’s
home. It was an interesting tour, but I
was the one with the map, and Connor would always walk ahead of me, so I would
follow him, only to realize he was going the wrong direction. He would then get angry at me for not telling
him which way to go before he started walking.
I told him that I assumed he knew where he was going. Stress levels increased. We eventually got back to the VC and then
parked the truck in the parking lot for the museum. We were hungry at this point, so I suggested
we get a slice from the pizzeria next to the museum. He said that pizza would take too long to cook. Apparently they don’t have precooked slices
in New Mexico like they do in the northeast.
We went to the museum, and, while we had an hour and a half budgeted, I
did not think we needed that much time.
The museum was tiny and geared towards kids. We watched a film, and then went to see the
exhibits. I only needed ten minutes to
see the whole museum, but Connor insisted on interacting with every exhibit and
reading every sign. I wanted to get out
of there, as I was bored, and he said I was rushing him. Stress levels further increased. I spent more time on my phone, even though my
battery life was rapidly diminishing. At
one point, he suggested I go order the pizza, and I asked him if he would be
out by the time the pizza was ready. He
could make no such promise. I waited, as
I didn’t want to eat without him.
Eventually, we left, and we went to the pizzeria. He then said he didn’t want pizza. I was ready to kill him. He told me to order what I wanted and then
walked to the truck. My phone was at 5%
at this point. This was when he did
something that went beyond the bounds of an innocent prank and was downright
nasty. Next thing I knew, the truck was
gone. I called him, and he told me that
the truck was where he parked it. He
gave me similar bullshit answers when I tried texting him, even though I told
him my phone was almost dead. Nothing
about this was funny, and he would not tell me where he was. For all I knew, he had driven back to
Albuquerque without me. My pizza came,
but I was too stressed to eat. I ate a
quarter of it and then got the rest to go.
I found his truck across the street outside the Subway, and he was
inside. I was furious. I ate the pizza by his truck and waited for
him to come out.
When I got in the
truck, I told him that nothing about what he did was funny. I explained that going out of your way to
annoy your travel partner makes him not want to travel with you again. I said that all he did to do was say, “I’m
across the street at the Subway.” He
insisted he did nothing wrong. We then
headed towards our next stop, but the highway had a security checkpoint, which
we thought was the lab entrance, so we kept getting lost. Stress levels further increased.
The drive was scenic, which calmed us both
down, and we had to go inside a collapsed supervolcano. That’s where the VC for Valles Caldera NPres
was, and it was all covered in snow. It
truly was beautiful and scenic. It was a
bit of an adventure driving down the snow-covered road, but we made it. When we got to the VC, we learned that the
brochures would not be ready until much later in the year. Fuck!
They didn’t even have temporary paper brochures. I had lit up a Vegas Robaina Canada
Exclusivo, and I left it out on the porch.
After my failure in the VC, I went to smoke my cigar on the porch while
Connor talked to the ranger. The ranger
(did I mention he was armed?) told me I needed to smoke in the parking
lot. Instead, I walked across the
parking lot to the Uer. It was a
primitive Uer and very smelly. While I
was in there, I heard a load knock. I
ignored it, knowing the Uer to be locked.
When I got opened the door, I saw the ranger standing at full height,
his hand not six inches from his holstered weapon. “If I told you I couldn’t smoke on the porch,
what made you think you could smoke in the bathroom?” he demanded. “I didn’t even think about it,” I answered
honestly. He reminded me that smoking
was prohibited in all NPS buildings, including bathrooms.
Connor soon came out and related the story from
his end. The ranger had told him, “Hold
on, I have to go yell at your boy. If he
can’t smoke on the porch, why does he think he can smoke in the bathroom.” “I can’t control what he does,” Connor had
said. “Don’t worry, I can,” the armed
ranger had told Connor. We too our
ceremonial pictures and then got back on the road, towards a place called
Battleship Rock. Connor said that the
real reason he wanted to go was that he had hidden a Playboy there in 7th
Grade and wanted to retrieve it. When I
reminded him that that would need to go into the Travelogue, we disavowed the
story.
We got to the site, and I went to
take a picture, dropping my phone in the mud in the process. I went to pick up the phone, only to drop my
water bottle, which was easily cleaned with snow and my shirt. We walked around a bit, and Connor said the
hiding place, which was a cave, would have bears in the winter, so we didn’t
go. From there, we headed to El Pinto
for dinner, where we would meet Pete and his girlfriend. That would technically mark the beginning of
the return journey, and my pipe is done, so I will close so that I can write
the return journey in its entirety from my usual spot at Gate B5.
Here I am,
at the exact same spot where I closed out my previous three trips to New
Mexico. I would say the same bench, but
they have slightly reconfigured the benches, so my usual bench is in a
different spot, and this bench is the usual spot. It is a place that is filled with memories
good and bad, just as the trips have been a mix of good and bad. This was a bad trip, but I can hope that the
next one will be good. That’s the thing
about failed trips. For the most part
there is always an opportunity to make up for it with a future trip. That is what led to my epic “Because It’s
There” trip. Hopefully my next trip to
New Mexico will make up for this one.
Okay, so I left off as we were driving to El Pinto, which would mark my
third trip-ending dinner at New Mexico’s “most iconic restaurant,” my second
with Connor and also my second one with Pete and his girlfriend. We saw the familiar sunset across the Sandia
Mountains as we made our way to the restaurant, and I smoke my Avo on the way,
which I knew to mean that the trip was coming to an end, none to soon.
I finished my cigar outside by the fire pit,
and we got a table. Pete and his
girlfriend joined us soon after we were seated, and we prepared for an epic
feast. I always overeat at El Pinto, and
I never regret it. The heavy food helps
me sleep well on the brief flight back to New York. We got a round of drinks and a big plate of
nachos to start. The four of us couldn’t
even finish the nachos.
They were out of
the usual red chile ribs, so I opted for the steak, which was purported to be
good. Pete and his girlfriend got a
quesadilla to share. The food soon came,
and the steak was dry and overcooked. I
joked to Pete, “If I wanted to get a bad steak for $20, I would have gone to a
diner, or an Italian restaurant.” Pete
found the joke quite amusing. Okay, the
usual bench has opened up, so I will switch to it.
Yeah, this
view is all wrong, but it feels good to be on the old bench. It is a bench that holds so many memories for
me, as I mentioned above. The steak was
really bad, but I ate it anyway. Pete
didn’t touch the quesadilla, and his girlfriend only ate one of the eight
slices. The nachos were very
filling. We talked and joked and made
plans to hang out during their upcoming visit to New York.
After dinner, I got tempted to order dessert,
which was plenty for the four of us to share.
El Pinto doesn’t do small portions.
The dessert was a Mexican version of tiramisu, and it was quite
good. After the meal, I changed into my
suit, and we said our goodbyes. From
there, it was to the airport. I wondered
if the protests against Trump’s recent immigration restrictions would extend to
this airport, but it seemed unlikely. I
got my ticket and went out to the smoking area.
I sat down and lit up my 2011 Christmas Pipe, glad to be back in order
this time, now smoking the same pipe I had smoked in Quebec, Port Lockroy, Hong
Kong, Everest, Sydney, and Cap-Haitien.
This would be far overshadowed by such locations. I then proceeded to write the first part of
this entry, but my establishing shot was ruined by a news truck parking and
putting on its flashers. Soon, I saw
another news crew running by me. Twitter
confirmed that there was a protest going on in the arrivals area. I would avoid that area, but the establishing
shot was ruined.
I wrote anyway, and the
truck soon left, allowing me to take a better establishing shot. After I closed, I went through security with
no problem and headed to the gate, where I proceeded to write this entry, which
I will now close, along with closing out this trip. Next stop: Baja with Roberto, so that we can
say, “Mexico Complete.”
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