Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Revealed Truth on the Road to Raton - ????



There is nothing like windshield time to allow you time to think about nothing really. And that is good because we live in a too busy world with too many talking heads telling us what to think about; what to fear. My father, who was first a pilot and then a traveling salesman, used to talk to me about the nothingness between point A and B, whether those were airports, military bases, or cities along the empty highways of the southwest.

There is a lot I can tell you about the road to Raton. It is divided almost in half between canyon through the mountains and wide open high plains. I have taken the road enough times because of art deliveries or pickups, court cases (Raton is the county seat), seeking the sometimes elusive bison, or photography treks, that I know where the turns are, what the next mile marker will say, the speed limit changes, and where the bison just might be.

I always allow two and half hours for the trip. This is an allowance I make for those bison which just might be hugging the fence. But, realistically, it is a casual two hour drive. Once it took 24 hours because of a snow storm blocking Cimarron Canyon. Yesterday I did it in a hour and thirty minutes which included a stop at the Cimarron Canyon State Park Visitor's center for renewal of my state park pass. I love state and national parks. And I love park rangers. They love the land they steward so we have immediate common ground. That stop, because we chatted about the current trend to sell off mining leases on park land to foreign countries, and that his wife is also an avid photographer, certainly took longer than twenty minutes. And then there was the pit stop at the transgender state park facility. So I did Angel Fire to Raton in 70 minutes!!! Or less. There were no bison or antelope close to the road and going out the skies were boring but still that comes close to flying.

I can bend time. Mother called it day dreaming. But Dad, the pilot, knew better. It gets close to "Beam me up, Scotty." No wonder I am a Trekkie. 

On the trip back there were still no bison or antelope close to the fence requiring a photographic rest stop, but there were the clouds and the distant storm on the horizon. 


You just have to stop for New Mexico skies even if you are not a photographer you need to pull over, get out of the car and smell the air and feel the electricity in the air. Being a photographer just makes it better. I stopped twice for the clouds. And obviously again suspended time because I reached my valley just 90 minutes after leaving Raton.

I had not been looking forward to the road trip. Seemed there were other things I should have been doing. I am often wrong on such matters. It was the perfect day to hit the road. I got my paintings picked up for the Old Pass Gallery, went to the Raton Pass Inn to meet a new Facebook friend in person, dropped off some small paintings there, and touched base with my Raton artist friend, Carl Swanson. But those are just the things on the list which necessitated the trip. I know I also accomplished lots not on that list. And those things while in the transporter were the most important.

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