Baja: The Experience - Day 1 - A Rough Start

2/18, “A Rough Start”

In Port, M/V Storm, Puerto Los Cabos, Baja California Sur, Mexico

As this dateline gives away, we have gotten off to a rough start.  It should have read “At sea…”, but our departure has been delayed due to a storm.  If we can leave port at first light tomorrow morning, everything will be in line with our original schedule.  If not, we may need to call an audible.  However, it was not just the storm that led to a rough start.  In fact, everything that led up us getting on board the boat was rough one way or another.

After I closed, took care of some stuff and then headed to the gate.  We soon boarded, and I was asleep almost as soon as we were in the air, I fell asleep.  Next thing I knew, we were landing at Benito Juarez.  With my recent Viajero Confiable enrollment, I was able to bypass the line at immigration, and I went to the familiar cigar store to buy more cigars.  I then saw the other store also had quite a selection of cigars, but I think the prices had increased a bit, and I didn’t want to buy any more than I already had.

I went to the customs check, and, it turned out I didn’t have a customs form.  Either the machine didn’t print it for me, or I didn’t take it.  I had to fill out a new form.  She asked if I had any cigars.  I told her that I had 40 cigars, thinking the limit was 50.  No, it was 25, it turned out.  I had to go another check, where they would count my cigars and impose a duty on them.  There were two stations, but both were in use, one by a a guy who was bringing back these odd commercial products, the other by a family with literally a dozen suitcases, all tightly packed.  I had time, so I waited, and waited.

Finally it was my turn.  She counted my cigars.  I had brought even more than I had thought.  I actually had 59.  That was a genuine mistake, as I had intended to bring 40 cigars, but I packed more than that.  She said the duty would be very high.  (How high, I wondered).  She asked if the cigars were expensive, and I said that they were not.  I learned that rather than charging per cigar, they impose a duty of 330% the cost of the cigars for excess cigars.  That was outrageous.  Fortunately, she only recorded the value of each cigar as about a tenth of what I paid for them, so the price was steep, but it only added 33% to the cost of each cigar.

I paid the duty and then went back to the customs check, where they had to search my bag again.  After that, I went through security again and headed to the Aeromexico lounge, only to find it was closed.  There was another lounge on the other side of the terminal, so I went there.  I got some coffee, pastries, fruit, and granola, which served as breakfast, before taking a nap.  I woke up every hour or so, and, each time, different people were sitting next to me.  Eventually, it was time to head to my gate, so I got one last coffee, and they had some mini quesadillas out, so I had three slices of those.

When I got to my gate, someone (old enough to be a grandfather of a young grandchild) was acting very drunk or otherwise misbehaving.  Either way, it was clear he was not in control of his actions.  I hoped that his behavior would not disrupt our flight.  I settled into my seat, and, next thing I knew, he literally crashed into the seat in front of me, breaking the glass of orange juice there.  He was made to disembark, and we had to wait while they found his suitcase.

We then took off, and I was wowed by the urban sprawl from the air of Mexico City.  I had coffee and whiskey during the flight, which they served with a bowl of nuts.  After my coffee, I had a severe allergy attack of some type.  All of the sudden, at the same time, my eyes and throat started itching, and my nose was stuffed.  It was quite a process to even make the symptoms manageable.  My eyes were visibly puffy.

When we landed, I made my way to the exit, where I found both Roberto and Scott about ten feet from each other.  Roberto immediately noticed my eye, so we decided we would need to stop to get Claritin for me.  Scott had a van take us to the boat and said he would meet us there.

It was a bit of a process to reunite, but, when he found us, he said that the port was closed for the day, and we would not be able to set sail until the morning.  We agreed to review the schedule at lunch, and he gave us a tour of the boat.  It was very small, and it had three cabins with bunks.  The galley connected the deck and the cabins.  We each took one cabin and settled in before lunch.

Fried fish with rice and beans, along with beer was lunch, and we looked at the schedule.  We figured that we could leave tomorrow morning and still be good on time to get back to shore Tuesday night.  If we had to leave past noon tomorrow, we would need to call an audible, and Roberto and I would instead begin our drive and come back here for the boat trip Wednesday to Saturday.  After lunch, we went to the upper deck for cigars, and I had an Oliva.  I then took a nap, as we had nothing better to do.

Once I was refreshed, and the rain had cleared up, I went outside to the deck, where I sat down, lit up my 2011 Christmas Pipe, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish before dinner.  This is the pipe that I have smoked so many times before a great adventure began, especially on New Year’s Eve in Quebec and Port Lockroy and Hong Kong and Sydney, but also at Everest as the Nepal trip went underway.  The adventure that will follow this trip promises to be just as epic, assuming we can indeed set sail in the morning.

Baja: The Experience - Day 0 - In Memoriam

“Baja: The Experience”

2/17/17, “In Memoriam”

John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York

When I last wrote, as I reached this Travelogue’s millionth word, I provided a rare insight into how these entries are produced.  What I did not mention is how they are distributed.  My Facebook post is one method of distribution, but a select few people receive it directly by email.  When I wrote that last entry, four people were included on that email, but henceforth it will be one less, as one of the members of that group has passed away since I last wrote.   These “prologues”, as he called them, were his favorite part, so it is only fitting that this one be written about him.  It is in memory that this entry is dedicated.

It will be a mundane entry, and perhaps it seems unworthy to dedicate such a mundane entry to such a great man, but he understood that value of life was in its mundanity.  To him, life in and of itself was something that should be celebrated.  It did not matter if we achieved greatness, it only mattered if we achieved.  It did not matter what we chose do with our lives, so long as we chose to live, chose to create life, rather than to destroy life.  He understood Objectivism in its purist form, even if he preferred to buy into his own version of the philosophy.

Our last discussion was about this very topic.  He placed community values above individual freedoms in many instances, and we would debate that topic in great depth.  We were working together on a thesis about whether cultural values could override moral norms, or if we needed to allow certain absolute moral principles that overrode all cultural values.  We both could have argued either position at length, but we were deprived of our chance to write our essay together on it.  I will continue that project in his name.

These were the mundane things about life that mattered to him, along with a hot cup of coffee and good conversation, both of which we enjoyed together numerous times.  His name was Eugene G. Schwartz, and he was a man who chose to live.  For over 90 years, he chose to live.  No trip to Southern California was complete without a sharing a meal with him, and next month I will return there to honor his memory, just as this prologue does.

This is the sixth time I am flying Aeromexico Flight 401, and, if the trip goes well, it is the last time I will do so for many years to come.  It is the fourth time I am meeting up with Roberto in Mexico, and it is the seventh time I am journey to Mexico to see World Heritage Sites.  I aim to say “Mexico Complete” this trip.  If so, other than a possible stop in Tijuana next month, I will have no need to return to Mexico for quite some time.  Usually I write something here about the familiar within the unfamiliar and the unfamiliar within the familiar, and, from 6 PM on, I did almost exactly the same thing as I did during my last trip to Mexico.  I will get to that in turn.

There is not much to report on Day 0.  It was a very busy day at the office, but I got my work done, and was out before 4 PM, which left me plenty of time before my flight.  Too much time, in fact.  Time enough to get bored.  I had my traditional pre-departure lunch from Hop Won, but I had to eat at my desk, since I was so busy.  After work, I lit up an Oliva and biked back to my apartment.

When I got home, I discovered that my shower had backflowed, and there was a thick black sludge in the basin.  I tried to rinse it out with a moderate amount of success.  I then backed up and transferred some files on my laptop and phone and went out for dinner.  At this point, from 6 PM on, my actions almost exactly mirrored my previous trip to Mexico.

I went to CPK and got bread and butter and seltzer to start, followed by crispy mac and cheese for an appetizer.  For my pizza, I got garlic chicken on thin crust.  After dinner, I lit up a Cohiba, and as I was about leave, the shower got worse, and my bathroom was now flooding.  The restaurant’s office was also flooded, so one of the workers had to clear out the basin for both the office and my shower.  The bathroom will require a bit of cleaning when I get back.  I then walked up to the bus with the rest of my cigar, stopping at Duane Reade to get some ibuprofen for my tooth, and waited for the 8:30 PM bus, which, like last time, came around 8:45 PM.

I was at the airport by 9:30 PM, but there was a huge line for security.  There was only one station open for some reason, and neither my business class ticket nor TSA PreCheck afforded me any expedited entry.  It was a long wait, but I had plenty of time.  At 10 PM, they brought a dog and opened another two stations.  I was through security ten minutes later.

I then headed to the Air France lounge and got some snacks and mixed myself a dry martini with half a measure of vodka and two measure of gin, shaken not stirred, of course.  I then sat down, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish and lounge around a bit before my flight.  When I send the email, it will be hard remembering to not include the fourth name.

Taos: The Return - Day 2 - Thwarted Again

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 7^th 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.” 

Taos: The Return - Day 1 - Of Forts and Volcanoes

1/28/17, “Of Forts and Volcanoes”

Taos, New Mexico

When I travel domestically, I almost exclusively do so to visit the various units of the National Park Service, which now number around 420.  At the onset of this trip, I had visited 263 units, and these trips allow me to pursue that moving target, as new sites get designated almost every year.  Like World Heritage Sites, National Park Sites can either be cultural sites, such as a famous, historic fort, or natural sites, such as a beautiful, scenic volcano.  There are also use-based sites known as National Recreation Areas, but that is for another entry.

When I set out to see America the Beautiful, I do not look at the various National Park Sites and decide which ones pique my interest.  In fact, I do quite the opposite.  I pick a geographical area I want to visit and then plan a trip based on which National Park Sites are in that geographical area.  I do, after all, want to see them all eventually.  While National Parks do take precedence over other types of units, I have already visited every National Park on the continental mainland.  I do not do any research on the sites beforehand, other than logistical concerns (operating hours, location, time necessary to allocate on-site, etc.).  I do not care why the fort was famous and historic, and I do not care how beautiful and scenic the volcano is.  I care about how where it is located, when I can get my stamp, and how long I will need to spend on-site.  That’s it.  Everything else I will either learn at the VC or by seeing the site itself.

I have been to so many forts and battlefields like this, knowing nothing about it, or even what war it was from, until I arrive at the VC.  Likewise, I have been to so many volcanoes and mountains with a similar lack of knowledge.  It doesn’t matter.  It’s all about the stamp.  America the Beautiful, indeed, and one day I will have seen all of them, along with every state capitol, but that day is a long way off, probably close to a decade off.  Until then, I will carry on and keep checking off units.  That, along with some unfinished business at the nearby Taos Pueblos, was the purpose of this trip.

After I closed last night, I went to sleep and was soon awoken, as Connor was about to pick me up.  We stopped at a Jack-in-the-Box for breakfast, which we ate in the car.  After breakfast, as we drove to the fort, we listened to Connor’s road trip mix, and I lit up a Davidoff Yamasa Toro.  After his CD, we put on Red, but we were at the fort before the album (or the cigar) was done.

We learned at the VC that the fort (Fort Union National Monument) was from the 19^th Century and was pivotal in the defense of the Southwest during the Civil War and various Indian campaigns.  We walked around and took some ceremonial pictures.  It was actually a lot more interesting than some of the other forts I had scene, since the clay construction was well preserved in the desert.  After our pictures, we headed back towards the car, and we lit up a pair of Auroras for the road.

We stopped in Raton for gas and lunch at a Mexican place attached to the gas station.  In addition to procuring a bunch of snacks for the car, I got a chimichanga and nachos with cheese.  After lunch, we got in the car, lit up a pair of Aroma de Cubas and headed to the volcano (Capulin Volcano National Monument).  When we got there, about half an hour later, we learned that it was closed for renovations.  NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

The VC and the road to the volcano was completely closed for renovations.  Without a stamp, there was no way I could mark this as my 265^th Unit, and it would necessitate a return visit.  There was a closed off gate, but the sign was not far down the road, and I could walk to it to take a great picture, but, still, no stamp, no credit.  I was devastated, but I would need to make the best of this.  I attempted to walk around the gate, which meant walking over the cattle guard, only to get my foot almost stuck in the cattle guard.  Connor wants me to record the exchange that followed in its entirety.  “What do you expect,” he asked, “it’s a cattle guard!”  “I’m a human,” I responded, “not a cattle.”

I made my way to the sign and took a picture there, though it was hardly ceremonial.  We got back on the road and figured out how to plan a return visit.  In the end, we figured out it would have to be another 2-day trip with one day for Gila and another day for Capulin.  It was really fucking annoying.  We made our way to Taos, only to have our eye caught by a line of various state flags.  In figuring out what the flags were doing there, we discovered that it was an NRA Center.

Since we had time, we figured we might as well check it out, and I also figured that a gun center would not stop me from my smoking my cigar inside.  I was right.  They had a shop inside, but the ranges were BYOG (Bring Your Own Gun).  We looked around a bit, and Connor said that when we return to visit Capulin, he has some old rifles he can bring for us to use at the range.  That sounded like a plan.

We made our way to Taos, and he asked where the hotel was.  I told him that it was the same hotel we stayed at last time we were at Taos.  Well, it turned out that I had actually booked the hotel across the street.  Whoops. That was pretty representative of the comedy of errors that today has become.  Once we got to the hotel, we engaged in some tomfoolery involving Connor filming himself talking backwards and reversing the video on Snapchat to do some funny effects.  We then took a nap before heading out for dinner.

We went to this dinky little Mexican restaurant that was absolutely packed.  We got chips and dips to start, and I got enchiladas for my main course.  It was beyond delicious.  We got a cake to go, and then our plan was to go to the cigar shop, which was across the street, but it was closed.  Instead, we went to the liquor store to get some drinks for later.  There was some drama involved in figuring out how much we wanted to drink and when, and he wound up going back to get more while I went to the hotel to eat my half of cake and get started on my entry.

I ate half the cake, which was quite good, and then I went to fill up my Christmas Pipe.  It was at that point that I had realized a huge error.  I had packed my 2008, 2010, and 2011 Christmas Pipes (I do not own one from 2009), but I had thought that I had packed the 2010, 2011, and 2012 Christmas Pipes, as the 2008 and 2012 Christmas Pipes both do not have sleeves and look somewhat similar.  Because of that, I had smoked my 2010 Christmas Pipe last night, and that meant I had gone out of order.  Fuck!  I was seriously pissed.  In all my years of smoking Christmas Pipes, I think I had only made that error once before, confusing the 2006 and 2007 Christmas Pipe.  Well, the 2008 Christmas Pipe had to be smoked.  It was the same pipe I smoked in Mont Tremblant, Vienna, the Corinthian, Xi’an, and Cairns.  Taos will do well to join that list, even if it was smoked out of order.

I then went outside and sat down.  I had the perfect establishing shot, and I was about to start writing my entry, when Connor pulled up in his truck and parked directly in front of our room, ruining the shot.  I told him that he ruined the shot, and he said that he had actually thought about.  Something about Connor is that he is very observant, and I am very predictable if you observe me properly, so he knows all my routines, all of my quirks, and often makes jokes to that effect, knowing that certain actions he takes will necessary find their way into the Travelogue.  I moved the chair, then with some difficulty, cutting my finger on the cap in the process, managed to open my beer.  I then sat down and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish before we get toasted.

Taos: The Return - Day 0 - "Elections Have Consequences"

“Taos: The Return”

1/27/17, “Elections Have Consequences"

John F. Kennedy International Airport, New York (JFK)

This time two years ago, after decisive midterm elections, Republicans had just taken control of both Houses of Congress, and, other than literally “setting foot” in the state at the Four Corners Monument, I had never properly visited New Mexico.

Now, two years later, President Trump has been sworn in as the 45^th President of the United States, an event I witnessed in Washington a week ago today, Republicans still control both Houses of Congress, and I am about to head to the Land of Enchantment for what will make my fourth trip since Mitch McConnell became the Majority Leader of the Senate.  He has accomplished next to nothing at that post, but with a President more willing to sign legislation he passes, that will change over the next four years.  What has occurred since McConnell took that post, however, is that I have fallen in love with the Land of Enchantment, as is evinced by the fact by my frequent return trips.

What, however, has President Trump accomplished in the time since I saw him sworn in as President?  Well, actually, a lot.  He did exactly what he said he would do, and people seem shocked that he followed through on his campaign promises.  Is that what this world has come to, that the media goes into a tailspin when a politician follows through on his campaign promises?  For better or worse, by securing our border and restricting high-risk immigration and visas, President Trump has done what he said he would do.

When I saw him in Washington, he explained his doctrine of “America First.”  He said that it is the absolute right of every sovereign country in the world to put her own interests first and that America will no longer seek to impose her way of life on other countries, but instead serve as a model for every countries to emulate.  It’s about damn time we had a President say that.  America cannot and should not be the world’s policeman.  That is a concept I despised from the the time I first heard the expression as a young teenager.  We should neither be the mother nor father to the world.  Trump’s actions of the past week has proved that he meant it when he said, “America First.”

He said that he would “Make America Great Again”, and he is doing just that, much to the chagrin of the liberals whose sense of humanity he has offended.  Well, it should come as no surprise that he is doing this.  It is all right there in his “Contract with the American Voter.”  On November 8^th, the American voters signed the contract, and now he is keeping his end of the contract.  My political beliefs should be obvious, and this is the last I will say on the issue, but the fact that he is doing what he said he would do on the campaign trail should be celebrated, not condemned.  As his predecessor said, “Elections have consequences.”

Okay, so what about the Land of Enchantment?  What keeps bringing me back?  I have already written much about why I love this state so much, and my need for completeness keeps brings me to new places in the state.  The fact that one of my best friends lives there makes it convenient, and the discounted airfare got me there this weekend than later in the year.  So, that’s a bit of an issue for me.  I seem to always forget that New Mexico is cold in the winter.  Very cold.  It’s even cold in the spring.  Very cold.  I figure that, it’s pretty far south, so it must be warm.  Well, that is true, but it is an, um, alternative fact.  The relevant fact is that it’s at a high altitude, so that makes it cold almost year-round.  This time, however, I have packed properly for the cold weather.  I have not done that in the past.

Okay, so Day 0, which was entirely unadventurous.  I had packed the night before, but I had neglected to pick my suit up from the cleaners.  I also needed to get to the office at 8 AM due to my early departure.  That meant that I had to wake up very early, which I did, so that I could get my suit and get ready, which I did.  I took a taxi the short way up Park Avenue to the office.  I did my usual Friday morning stuff and then went out to lunch with a coworker, to Hop Won for my traditional pre-departure lunch.

After lunch, I huddled in the plaza on 43^rd Street and smoked my pre-departure Cohiba.  I then went to the office, finished up what I had to do, and ate the McDonald’s I had in the fridge before I left for the airport.  There was a fair bit of traffic, but I got to the airport around 6 PM, and I was able to bypass the usual long security line at Terminal 5 since I had PreCheck.  I got through security with no trouble, and went to get a snack or something.  I was about to get some packaged cookies, but I checked the price, and it was way too high for what it was.  I headed to my gate and find something cheaper.  I ate my cookies and then sat down at the gate, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close as we are about to board, though I will not be able to publish this until I write tonight’s entry from Albuquerque.

Corrales, New Mexico

Two years ago, right before the trip to New Mexico that I mentioned earlier, I wrote a similary underwhelming dateline of Greenbelt, Maryland, as I smoked my 2007 Christmas Pipe, the same pipe that had previously been smoked under datelines of Ottawa, Budapest, London, Kingston, and the Beagle Channel.  I had taken a spontaneous trip to Washington with Raymond, and we stayed at his brother’s apartment in Greenbelt.  Now Pete is living here in Corrales, and I am once more staying overnight at his apartment, which means my 2010 Christmas Pipe can add this dateline to the list that includes Quebec, Istanbul, the Bransfield Strait, Belmopan, Nassau, Kathmandu, Sydney, and, recently, Santo Domingo.  Corrales, New Mexico does not measure up any better than Greenbelt, Maryland did, and this establishing shot is equally unimpressive.  The journey that brought me here, however, is of some interest.

After I closed, we soon boarded, and the plane looked like it better belonged in the Reagan Administration than the Trump Administration.  There were no outlets, and the entertainment system was lacking.  The lack of outlets was a problem, as my computer and phone were both around 20%.  I would be able to drain the charge off of my laptop on to my phone, but that meant I would not have enough battery on either device to really surf the internet in-flight.  The movie options were limited, and certainly no Oscar Noms were available. I watched Fox News, had some snacks and seltzer, and soon fell asleep, only to be woken up by bumps and screams.  It was a bit of a struggle to get back to sleep, but I probably got a full REM cycle throughout the flight.

We landed early, and Connor and Pete were waiting for me at the airport, though I somehow managed to walk right by them, as we were both recording our adventures on Snapchat.  That was when the fun began.  I mean that both sarcastically and literally.  We took a picture together and then headed to Pete’s Land Rover, which, again, looked like it was from the Reagan Administration.  The backseat was tight, and my suitcase had to go in there, as well, since the trunk was full.  During the drive, Connor asked if Raymond had been complaining about a problem with his roommates.  The question was directed at Pete, but he and I both answered in the affirmative simultaneously.  We soon figured out that Raymond had been telling three versions of the same story to the three of us.

We went to Wendy’s to get food to go, which turned out to be an adventure at the drive-through.  I asked for a seltzer, but they said they didn’t have it, though they did have Sprite.  I explained that I didn’t want anything sweetened.  I asked for a small Frosty instead, which, I’m sure, had more sugar than a Sprite.  She asked if I wanted chocolate or vanilla.  I answered, “Yes.”  She said, “Okay.”  I shit you not.  We also got fries and burgers.   When we got to the drive-through window, they had figured out how to make a seltzer, and I got it for free.  That was a nice boon.

We got to Pete’s place in Corrales, and sat down for our dinner.  Connor left after dinner, and I resituated myself before Pete and I went outside to smoke our pipes.  I sat down, lit up my 2010 Christmas Pipe, and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish.