catlinyemaker

J and I are back in Las Cruces, NM, retracing our route to California eastward in the new year.  I’ll be spending the next few posts catching the blog up to close to current events, if all goes well, starting where we left off right before Christmas.

( Christmas in the desert )

How the heck is it March already? I wanted to be sure to post something about the second half of our New Mexico adventure, which was in early February. Well, better late than never…

( Our trip to Carlsbad, NM... )

In the way of things when full-timing (plans writ in sand) right after I wrote the post about making the speed run (fast for us, anyway) to get to Baton Rouge for Mardi Gras, our friends had to cancel the party. Bummer. But no cloud without a silver lining; the gap in the schedule let us slot in some sightseeing time and some needed work stops.

( From Tehachapi to Niland, CA... )

In mid-May we wended our way down the coast to Morro Bay and Bay Pines RV Park. Still in cramped sites; in this case although they claimed we’d be able to park in our site next to the rig, once the RV was in place (wedged as far to one side as we could get it) the only way to get our truck in the site would have been to fold in the steps and block the trailer door completely. Not recommended. We parked out on the street instead and walked in to the site for the week we were there. While the campground was nice and inexpensive, I think next time we are in the area we’ll stay someplace with slightly more room.

( A Spanish Mission and an American Castle )

The spicy-pine scent of juniper is strong this morning as I step out onto the concrete patio, taking the tabby for his morning walk. New snow from yesterday’s storm blankets the nearby mountains and there’s frost on the tussocks of grass dotting the gravel field where our rig sits. It’s a beautiful morning in New Mexico.

We came up from central Texas, leaving the lush spring behind for the high desert. The bright greens went dull as we drove, blue and orange and purple wildflowers gave way to white ones, and the soil changed to red and tan adobe. Here the fields are full of juniper and cactus.

Cochiti Lake Campground is a Corps of Engineers park sited on rolling hills by a flood control lake in the Pueblo de Cochiti area. We can see mountains all around this plateau. We’re at just about 5500 feet elevation here - climbed up from Texas flatlands in one day. That explains the wheezing (both the truck and I are panting when we exercise.)

( Scenery and shopping... )

We’re rolling north and west from Houston, headed for California and the Bay area. Our plans for noodling around the inter-mountain west have been diverted by J’s work. This time it’s a half-planned change. We were pretty sure we’d be heading out to California sometime this year, and now we have a definite date; we’ll be there in mid to late April. How long we stay there is entirely up in the air, since J’s work seems incapable of making up its mind.

But for now we’re in Texas in springtime, and the wildflowers are in bloom. Coming up from Houston, we drove north to Ennis, TX for a brief stop at Waxahachie Creek Park, a Corps of Engineers campground on the lake there. The campground was pretty and the lake was beautiful. We had the loop we were in all to ourselves; the only loop that was full was the one which was all pull-through sites. I’d rather back in and have no neighbors.

We’dve headed more directly west from Houston, but I had arranged for a mail delivery to be sent to us just before we arrived there. So while we got yanked to Houston, our mail went to general delivery at the post office in Wylie. We looked into our options for getting the mail redelivered but they all suffered from too much lag and uncertainty. Easier just to run north and drive into Wylie on Saturday. That let us get a nice brunch in the little café we like there – bonus!

All the way north, the wildflowers were blooming along the freeways. We saw billows of bluebonnets, pure deep blue tipped with white, thick enough in places to resemble a foam-flecked sea. Right along with them were orange and red indian paintbrush; low growing pale pink flowers which looked like poppies; and even some mounds of crimson clover, which isn’t crimson at all but a deep velvet red. Spring in Texas would make a gorgeous quilt.

I don’t know why it works out this way (planning maybe?) but every time we leave Baton Rouge headed west, it just so happens that right about lunchtime we’re just east of Lafayette. Just in time to stop at the Boudin Shop off exit 115 for lunch. Well, we’re going right by, it would be a shame not to stop, right?

The Boudin Shop is a long narrow building with windows on two sides. From the outside, it almost looks like an enclosed porch that forgot to have a building attached. Inside, there’s a counter to order at on one end, with cold cases containing pie and packages of boudin, and tables in the windowed area. There’s a rack of Cajun spices and tourist junk in the middle of the eating space, in case you’re inspired to take some seasonings home after lunch.

Etouffee and rice and potato salad, that’s lunch. They’ve got other things, the titular boudin, crawfish boil, but we always get the etouffee. It may not be the best in the area, but it’s crammed with crawfish; and oddly, the potato salad makes a good foil, the crisp crunch of celery chunks complementing the rich stew.

We went pretty much due north from lunch in Lafayette to Ruston, LA, where we settled back into Lincoln Parish Park for a quiet week of R&R after our loud week of R&R with the folks in Baton Rouge. Just hanging out and walking around the lake and enjoying the beautiful weather. It’s coming on spring in Louisiana! Daffodils are blooming in the plantings along the campground road, and the trees are all leafing out in new spring green.

There are a couple of small flocks of ducks in the lake. They’re sorted by color; there’s a set of four or five white ducks, a set of black ducks, and one of mallards. And then there are the miscegenists; one couple, white and mallard, all by themselves across the pond. The black ducks must have been tame at one point; every time we were out on the shoreline path they came over, convinced that this time we would get the point and break out the duck chow. Hope springs eternal.

We finally left Hot Springs in mid-January after a stay of precisely two months, if you don’t count the brief jaunt to Texas between the holidays. We’d elected to do a short drive day the first day, as we knew the cats had gotten out of the habit of travelling. And as expected, no one wanted to go into their carriers. Normally we just set the carriers down and two out of three cats nip right in. In fact, I have to be careful to set the right carrier in front of the right cat, or they will be mis-boxed. (In which case they stay there; getting it “right” isn’t worth the trauma to their little psyches of prying them back out.) After a brief tussle everyone was boxed up, and hitching up proceeded smoothly.

( Pitfalls of picking a campground online )