Farley Hits the Desert Southwest, Day 17: I Shied Away From the Brothel Tour

We headed north out of Las Vegas, back into the unending desert.  We stopped for gas and a soda at the Area 51 Alien Center.  I couldn't resist a photo of the brothel but I did resist the free tour.  I wasn't sure what I might see but WAS pretty sure there was nothing I DID want to see.  All the Area 51 stuff cracked me up, too. 

The desert is always beautiful
at the beginning of the drive.

I hope the ladies here are prettier than the building.

Oh, the wonders this place held. 
And right next door to the brothel.

How did they know I wasn't one of them?

Because I look like one of them!

These are not gag alien glasses. 
They're my real sunglasses.

World's largest pistachio in New Mexico,
world's largest firecracker in Nevada.

Marc pulled me away from souvenier shopping for alien trinkets and we continued on toward Death Valley National Park.  I'd planned to do a few hikes, but it was 102 at the visitor's center when we got out of the car.  Sweet baby Jesus.  I'm a lizard, but I need a little acclimation from 80 to 102. So we just made stops at a couple of mining ghost towns and kept moving. 

I actually felt like I was in Burundi.

Wild desert burros.

Part of the Rhylolite mining ghost town.

We stopped for the night at Walker Lake.  Once again, it was dark when we got there, so we were happy to wak up to a gorgeous morning lake view.

 Not a bad view to wake up to!

Farley Hits the Desert Southwest, Day 16: Meeting an Icon

We got up early this morning and headed for Las Vegas, for the NOFX concert at the House of Blues at Mandalay Bay.  While Marc was driving, I found a spot on freecamping.net in a parking lot behind Bally's.  We pulled Farley in amid a bunch of big RVs and headed to the Strip.
 
We wandered south toward Mandalay Bay, doing a little gambling along the way.  We stopped at one of the restaurants on the walkway between Excalibur and Mandalay Bay for a bite and I watched the passing crowd closely for NOFX band members but didn't see any.  We got to Mandalay Bay and Marc bought our tickets and we headed in.  At security, the guy asked me to empty my pockets and put my arms out.  I was so focused on him, I didn't realize that Fat Mike the lead singer of NOFX, walked by the other way.  After we were past security, Marc said, "Fat Mike walked by the other way while you were emptying your pockets.  In fact, you bumped his girlfriend when you put your arms out."  Dammit, Marc; epic fail!  And, of course, I couldn't leave once I was inside.

This is how old men dress for punk shows:
In punk record label shirts and peepers.

The concert was great.  I am not the hugest NOFX fan.  However, I am a huge fan of the band's between-song banter.  Again, we were right in front.  I feel a little guilty taking up valuable big-fan space, but I enjoy being up there, unless I start getting shoved too much. 

Fat Mike, best stand-up comedian in punk rock.

After the show, Marc pointed out their manager, Kent, in the sound area.  Years ago, NOFX did a TV series of their international tour.  Kent was hysterical.  He drank quite a bit and got into a lot of hijinks.  I've watched the episode of him on the train in Russia several times.  Some snowy night, you should borrow my DVDs and binge-watch them, even if you don't like NOFX's music.  Kent is worth it. 

I've looked for him every time I've seen the band.  So, after Marc spotted him, I walked up and tapped him and asked, "Kent, could I take a selfie with you?"  He said absolutely.  I said, "I loved you in the band series.  You were the best part."  He laughed.  I said, "But you're sober now, right?"  He said yes.  I said, "Congratulations."  He said, "Thanks!  But I'm still the best part."  It was pretty awesome.

Kent will always be the best part.

And with that, we walked back to our home-away-from-home behind Bally's for the night.

Farley Heads for the Desert, Day 15: I Heart Flagstaff

This morning we got up and started off toward Flagstaff.  We knew we were going to go to the Voodoo Glow Skulls concert there at night, so we had plenty of time for side trips.  One of which was to the Walnut Canyon National Monument.

We looked around the informational displays about the cliff dwellings and then I got in line to ask one of the rangers about hike options.  I don't think she was a hiker.  She had a deep Southern drawl, which doesn't necessarily mean she doesn't hike, but, she doesn't hike.  She pointed out the Island Trail, which dropped deep into the canyon (she emphasized twice the 200+ stairs) past the dwellings, and the Rim Trail, which went by two areas of ruins.  I replied that those two hikes were only about a mile-and-a-half combined, and how far was the Arizona Trail we'd passed on the entrance road.  She said, "That trail just goes into the trees."  Um, we're OK with that. So we hiked both the trails she recommended, then drove a couple miles of dirt road to reach the Arizona Trail trailhead.  It goes the length of Arizona, some 800+ miles.  We only ran a couple, but it was a great, pretty flat, smooth singletrack. 

View from inside one of the
cliff dwellings.

Cliff dwellings from across
the canyon.

After a little trail run.  That no one takes.

On to Flagstaff, where we tried another one of their breweries.  This time we went to Mother Road.  Another winner.  The bartender was washing glasses right in front of us at the bar so we got to chatting.  Turns out he has an old Toyota van he plans to fix up and drive all 48 continental states.  We told him about freecamping.net and he was super-psyched to check it out.  In fact, as we walked out, he was telling one of the locals sitting there about it.

Demographics here look pretty much like Blackfoot.

Beautiful pour, inspiring motto.

We quizzed him a little about living in Flagstaff.  He said it's a great place if you have a job lined up first, or you're retired.  He had a bachelor's and master's in some kind of engineering and is working in a tap room.

From there, we wandered back to Proper Meats and Provisions so Marc could get some of their homemade chorizo.  And then we had to stop at Historic Brewing.  Just like in Montana, they let you bring in food, so we grabbed some Vietnamese food from down the block and came back to enjoy a couple of beers.  I had an orange Dreamsicle beer that was insane as far as fruity beers go.  I ended up buying a baby growler to go.

Vietnamese food and
Orangesicle beer.  A delightful combo.

And then we continued on to the Green Room for the Voodoo Glow Skulls concert. They had a great set-up where you could get near the stage with a drink, but a no-alcohol area right up front.  I stood toward the left side of the stage, out of the fray of the pit (which, I should note, if I did get bumped, the friendly Flagstaffers apologized) and Marc was in the center.  He did make a loop or two in the pit and his glasses got knocked off and broken right at the nosepiece.  I thought he should've taped them up, engineer-style, and continued wearing them the rest of the trip.  Luckily, though, he had just stocked up on contacts.

Cock Sparrer fan dad taking his
daughter to a punk show.

I touched the Voodoo Glow Skulls.  Indirectly.

We left the concert and camped for the night in the trees somewhere outside of town that we found on freecamping.net

Farley Heads for the Desert, Day 14: And, Back to Albuquerque

This weather is bullshit.  We woke up to rain that made us feel like we were back in Seattle.  A quick search of Albuquerque events for the day let us know that the farmers' market was opening for the first week of the season and it was half-price day at the zoo.  The zoo was packed.  But, on the plus side, families were very polite.  We both noticed in northern Arizona and northern New Mexico, everyone seems to be very polite.

Seriously, bullshit weather.

Marc finally bought a souvenir:
Stuff to make green chili at home!

We've all had days like this.

Not quite the wingspan of a condor.

After the zoo, we visited the New Mexico Holocaust and Intolerance Museum downtown.  It's by donation only, with displays on not only the Holocaust, but several different examples of ethnic cleansing throughout history.

Then, maybe we had to hit Golden Crown Bakery for more bizcochito for the road.  Again, they gave us a free one while we were in line.  We bought another six to go. It's becoming a habit.

We continued on to Winslow, Arizona, and camped a state park on a creek. We got there in the dark with no idea where anything was so just found a spot and crashed for the night.

Not bad for finding it in the dark.

Farley Hits the Desert Southwest, Day 13: (About the Weather) This Is Bullshit

This morning we got up and visited Bandelier National Monument. I'd been bummed when planning this trip that the cliff dwellings outside Taos are closed right now.  But last night I did some agenda-planning and realized that there are cliff dwellings right on our way to Santa Fe.  So we stopped and hiked the loop past all the archaeological sites.

There was a frightening series of ladders
to get to the "Alcove House."

As I was reading the Santa Fe travel info last night, I learned they have something like 365 days of sun every year.  Exaggeration, yes, the but number was well over 300.  So, after a stormy night outside of Phoenix last Thursday and a continuously drizzly Sunday there as well, then traveling in driving rain on Tuesday, today in Santa Fe it was cold and cloudy most of the day, at least until the rain started.  As Marc said about rain in Phoenix, "This weather is bullshit."

We did manage to see a lot of sites.  We checked out the Santa Fe Cooking School's store, then wandered into the Georgia O'Keefe museum gift shop.  I wanted to see the San Miguel Mission and, in following Googlina's mistaken directions, we wandered up Canyon Street, where the majority of the galleries are.  We didn't go IN any galleries, but the outside sculptures alone were plenty to see.

What $108k can buy you in Santa Fe.
In Helena, it could almost buy my condo.

A little course correction and we found the church, the oldest church in the United States, built in the 1600s.  We also visited their capitol, which houses $6,000,000 in art in its hallways.

San Miguel mission

The New Mexico capitol is like a museum.
$6,000,000 in art on three floors.  I'm not sure
if they have a hawt governor, though.

Truth.  As told by one who now knows.

I'd read about a restaurant, Maria's New Mexico Kitchen, that offers 200 different margaritas, so that's where we stopped for an afternoon libation.  I chose "The Mike Smith," after my favorite jockey when I lived in Saratoga.  He used to work out at World Gym in August and I'd see him there.  I also had their green chili, which I'd read about in the AAA magazine as being the best in New Mexico.

To know him is to love him.

AAA's recommendation for best green chili
in New Mexico:  Maria's in Santa Fe.

As we wandered today, I picked up the local free newspaper to see what was going on in town.  I read a funny quote attributed to someone at the local cider house and wondered how I didn't previously know it existed!  So we stopped in there for a pint or two while the rain came down.  While there, we checked out the weather forecast for Colorado, as we planned to go north tomorrow and into Denver to visit friends Sunday.  I didn't believe Marc when he told me large parts of Colorado are under storm watch and Denver is supposed to get eight to 14 inches of snow.  That weather is bullshit, too.

So, we hemmed and hawed and debated different routes and finally settled on heading back down to Albuquerque to I-40, then back to Flagstaff (there just happens to be a Voodoo Glow Skulls concert there on Sunday; I love them but have never seen them) and Las Vegas (NOFX just happens to be in concert there Sunday and Monday; we've seen them lots of times but are always game for another), then somehow from Vegas to Spokane by next Saturday.

Before leaving Santa Fe, we picked up a few items at a Mexican market, one of which was carne al pastor.  Maybe I was mistaken about what I was ordering.  Marc threw it in a sautee pan and then said, "What exactly did you buy?  There are pieces of hot dogs and pineapple in here.  At least that's what I think these lumps are."  Yikes.  But we threw it in tortillas with a fair amount of cheese and ate it.

The last thing we did was attend a gallery opening at the Santa Fe Collective.  It was an artist who paints over old paintings she gets at thrift shops.  The idea sounded cool.  The execution as ridiculous.  There was glass over the old paintings and she slopped white paint on the glass over the top.  And there were five.  Five pieces of art at this opening.  More hipsters who ignored us than there were paintings on the wall.

With that, we jumped back into Farley and hit the road for Albuquerque.  The infamous freecamping.net site said you can camp for free at the Sandia casino just north of town, so that's where we are.  We did go in to gamble, with a $25 limit for each of us.  We sat down together at a blackjack table and Marc lost his fairly quickly.  I managed to double my money so we walked out even-Steven on the night!

Farley Hits the Desert Southwest, Day 12: Bombs, New Mexico Specialty Foods, and Hot Springs!

Today we headed into Albuquerque.  I had green chili and biscochitos on the brain.  My nuke had atomic power history.  It was his only request this whole vacation.  Except Social Distortion.  Let's not forget Social Distortion.

Someone had so few requests, I couldn't deny this one.

So, we visited the museum, which was far more interesting than I would've expected.  A lot of social history about WWII, the Cold War, and everything nuke.

The Tacos.  That's my kinda military unit

Then I googled the best places for chili and biscochitos.  New Mexico is famous for both.  The closest place for chili (#4 on the list) was the Frontier Restaurant across the street from the University of New Mexico campus.  It was almost a cafeteria, but so delicious.

Cheap and delicious, just how I like my food.

Next, we stopped by Old Town.  Which was a tourist trap and not very authentic.  When I saw the "Get your Star Wars Pendleton blanket here" sign, I was pretty much done.

 Maybe the only authentic thing

in Old Town besides the buildings.

Then we searched out the best biscochitos.  We walked in the bakery and the girl said, "Here you go.  Here's a biscochito.  We give one to everyone who comes in."  Um, now I don't need to buy anything.  Until I tasted this buttery, cinnamon-sugar little morsel.  We ended up buying six more.

What delicious little morsels!

From there, we headed downtown to wander around, had a beer, and then decided to head north and search out some natural hot springs near the Jemez Pueblo. We found them, along with the wallet of a guy from Colorado who was parked next to us. 

"Hot" pools at Jemez Springs

This one's just for Tina Eblen.

After a quick soak, we continued on north to a "campsite" along the road next to the Valle Grande Caldera. 

Anywhere's a campsite in a van.

Farley Hits the Desert Southwest, Day 11: Dunes and Extraterrestrials

We woke up in the middle of the night to yet another vacation interloper.  Marc tried to catch this one in the trap, to no avail.  Little bastard set off the trap but wasn't caught.  Marc opened up the cupboard to find himself face-to-face with the little vermin. He reset the trap but didn't manage to catch him.  I guess this is the price you pay at the free BLM campsites, because we haven't had any problems elsewhere.

We started the day by visiting the White Sands National Monument. Since it had rained hard the day before, the sand was pretty hard.  We were glad we didn't invest $10 in a plastic disk to slide down them.  Instead, we just wandered around on the dunes.

Cool sand patterns.

I'm king of the dune world!

From there, we continued on to Alamagordo ("fat cottonwood"), which is largely an AFB and missile-testing town.  We spent some time at the grounds of the New Mexico Museum of Space History.  Honestly, they shouldn't have so much free stuff outside because we were sated and didn't pay the admission fee to go in.

Me, operating a space capsule.

Based on the sheer mileage, we decided to head to Carlsbad Caverns some other time and detoured from Alamagordo to Roswell.  A long, dry drive.  Past the biggest pistachio in the world.  We sampled probably 20 kinds of free flavored pistachios and pistachio brittles (never let cheap people have free samples), as well as pistachio wine (no, just no) and red chili wine (who buys this stuff?).

You can't argue:  That's a big-ass nut.

From there, on to Roswell.  I'd heard the $5 admission for the museum was too high.  Those reports were right.  I was impressed, though, by the local businesses that did have aliens on them.

Apparently aliens bullfight at Mexican
restaurants in Roswell.

The highlight of the museum:  ABDUCTED!

Then was the awful, awful drive from Roswell to Albuquerque.  Barren and desolate.  We stopped for the night a few miles outside of town at a rest area on the interstate.  No pic of Farley.  You've all seen rest areas and semi trucks.

Farley HIts the Desert Southwest, Day 10: I Made It Through the Rain

We left the lovely Pima County Fairgrounds this morning, noticing an "RV park closed due to fair" sign on the way out.  Oops.  Carnies only, apparently.

As we continued on through New Mexico, we hit a storm that forced everyone, semi-trucks included, off the interstate until they might be able to see again. The kind that Barry Manilow must've been sitting through when he wrote, "I made it through the rain."

We stopped in Las Cruces, New Mexico, which I thought would be a delightful town full of colorful historic houses, based on the AAA guidebook description.  AAA was wrong.  I was wrong.  I love pretty much every city and town I visit.  This was not the case with Las Cruces.  I tried.  I really tried.  Not even the special local pecan beer buoyed my spirits about the place.

Can you guess whose is whose?

Redeeming little ceramic murals on a Las Cruces home.

Not even a funky flavored beer made me like this town.

It was like Mecca.

BLM sunset.  YOU can't smell the slight sewage smell.

We continued on to north of the White Sand Dunes National Monument area, where we staked out a free BLM spot.  As soon as this sunset ended, the jets from the nearby Air Force base started up their night-time sound explosions.