Rockhound State Park

We cycle between giddiness and overwhelmed exhaustion today. Even at our slow pace we pace places we’d love to explore, like the rock spires of the Organ Mountains east of Las Cruces. Ann drives the rig, which is highly stressful for her still, while I experiment with using the computer in the passenger seat. It all feels unfamiliar.

On I-10 we hit a border patrol checkpoint. This isn’t even a state border. It strikes me as strange that we now have roadway checkpoints for the general citizenry. The image is one I had imagined in Iraq or Palestine, and it suprises me enough that I take a picture, then get chastised for it as we pass through the checkpoint. It could be used for planning a terrorist act, they tell me.

I don’t know what they could be doing here if they’re not profiling. They don’t look at our licenses or any other documentation. If I give them the benefit of the doubt, maybe they look up vehicle registrations.

This leaves us a little frazzled. We stop in Deming, have lunch at the visitor center, and decide to overnight at nearby Rockhound State Park. It’s still just afternoon, but the place is filling up and we’re put in the day use area. Still, it’s a nice spot with a covered picnic table. We go exploring the trails. All kinds of cactus and other nicely labeled desert plants here. Side trails marked with spray painted dots all over the place. Warm temperatures – sixty degrees. Glorious.


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