Carlsbad Caverns

Carlsbad Caverns is in the far southeastern corner of New Mexico, with very little around beside the caverns. It’s definitely a destination rather than a, “Hmm, let’s give it a look” as you’re driving by on the way to something else.

The usual way to visit the caverns is by taking an elevator from the visitor center 755 feet underground, wandering the paths through the Hall of Giants and the Big Room, and taking the elevator back up. There’s relatively little elevation gain once you’re at the bottom, and there is a small Jetsons-inspired gift shop and café, bathrooms that have cave rock protruding along the walls, and even a mailbox if you’d like to send a postcard from deep underground. However, last November the elevators broke down.

At the time of our visit, the only option was to go in via the natural entrance, a mile-long series of switchbacks that leads past the nose-punishing stench of the cave swallow nests before offering views of the formations below. It’s actually a great way to get to the floor of the caverns, if a little hard on the knees. It’s a little less great to have to come back up that way.

Natural entrance

Carlsbad Caverns didn’t offer anything new in terms of the actual formations, compared to other caves we’ve been to. What sets it apart is size: it’s mind-bogglingly huge. The lighting is fairly dim and the ceiling isn’t visible in many places. It just recedes into the dark, as do the paths ahead and behind you. At one point you can lean over to look into the feature called the Bottomless Pit, and hope you don’t drop anything, because you’re never getting it back.

We decided not to stay for the bat flight this time, because it was still early enough that they weren’t there in numbers, but if we go back it will be a little later in the year and we’ll schedule a ranger-guided tour to see additional rooms in the caverns. We spent about four hours underground, and probably would have taken even more time if the rangers hadn’t been pushing people out hours before the last posted entry time.

  

We enjoyed our visit, and here are some recommendations based on our experience:

• Go in by the natural entrance, even if the elevators are working.
• If you want to photograph the formations, take a tripod if you can. The lighting is very dim and your shutter speeds will have to be very slow.
• If you’re using the camera on your phone, turn off the flash. Newer phones will actually do pretty well without (see photo above); the flash flattens out the look of the formations, and it doesn’t reach far enough to do more than wash out what’s closest and throw a shadow over anything further back. Plus, I can almost guarantee that you’re blinding someone every time you trigger the flash.
• An exception to not using the flash is if you’re trying to take a selfie/family portrait. Just be a good cave citizen and be aware of who’s around you before pressing that button.
• If the elevator is still out, know that you probably won’t have as much time as you think to explore, so get there early.
• If watching the bat flight is important to you, end of May through summer is probably the best time to go.
• If you have pets with you in a car during the warm months, you will be required to kennel them at the caverns. It’s for your pet’s safety, so either leave them behind, or be prepared to use the provided kennels.

Seeing the light of day was like a mirage after several hours underground

Hello New Mexico!

Rockhound State Park is located in the southwest corner of New Mexico, less than 30 miles from the border with Mexico. It’s a desert location, surrounded by spires of rock, which are reportedly home to imported Ibex, although we didn’t manage to see any.

Trail above the campground at Rockhound State Park, NM

 Like the name suggests, rockhounding is encouraged, and there are several trails into the hills around the campground that we spent many hours exploring. The area is mostly known for jasper, common opal, and geodes, and given our history of rock hoarding, we were pleased with ourselves for limiting our take to less than half a shoebox full. 

Bullock's Oriole in ocotillo cactus

 A note about New Mexico state parks: all the campgrounds are priced the same, a very reasonable $14 for a site with power. While the amenities are different at all the parks, most include free hot showers. Rockhound State Park was especially well laid out and tended, and had the cleanest, nicest showers I’ve seen on the entire trip. When you’re traveling for 3+ months, the quality of bathroom facilities take on an enormous importance.

After a few days spent collecting ballast for the RV rocks, we moved on to White Sands. Unfortunately, unless you hike in to camp in the backcountry, there is no camping at White Sands. Without a tent and other supplies, that wasn’t going to be a possibility, so my dream of photographing a sunset over the dunes was dashed. Of course, the storm clouds that rolled in probably would have made seeing any kind of sunset impossible, so maybe next time.

 

Dunes at White Sands, NM

White Sands is made up of gypsum sand, and is ridiculously white and much finer than ordinary sand. Even with dark clouds obscuring the sun, and wearing sunglasses, hiking into the dunes brought on the kind of dazzle usually associated with the beginning stages of snow blindness. Cooper had a fantastic time running up and down the dunes nearest the parking area, except for one face plant when he jumped directly at the side of a dune and misjudged the softness of the landing. 

Because of the lack of camping options, we decided to push on toward our next destination, Carlsbad Caverns. While crossing a small mountain range along the way, we noticed that the moisture in the air was crystallizing, before turning into a driving snow. Rather than stopping to camp and risk getting stuck if the snow piled up, we kept going and ended up in Artesia late at night. There, we settled in to get some sleep before the last stretch to the caverns.

 

Leaving Arizona

After the Petrified Forest we drove down the eastern edge of Arizona, through the Blue Mountains. It was a narrow windy road, full of steep climbs and harrowing hairpin turns. Vehicles exceeding a certain length are prohibited on the road because of the tightness of the turns, although we passed one very long coach with a tow vehicle that chose to ignore the restrictions.

Once we were back in the lower elevations, one of our last stops in Arizona was Kartchner Caverns. The caverns opened while we still lived in Arizona, but a combination of conflicting schedules and sold out tours meant that we never made it there. I was sad to discover that photos were no longer allowed inside, so I had to content myself with sneaking up on the wildlife in the hummingbird garden outside the visitor center.

The caves are definitely worth a visit; they’ve worked very hard to keep the environment inside as natural as possible, to keep from disrupting the growth of the formations. Where other caverns we’ve been to are mostly dormant, Kartchner is still very much alive. It’s very different to look at a “bacon” curtain when light shines through the thin rippling sheet of stone and illuminates all the shades of cream and red inside, than it is to see a dormant curtain. I’d show you what I mean if I could have taken a picture (sad face).

Roadrunner with lizard

After a night at the nearby campground, we passed through Fairbanks ghost town (very small), Tombstone (just as touristy as you’d imagine), and Chiricahua National Monument (a surprise tucked into the eastern edge of the state). After taking in some of the highlights of Chiricahua, we drove into New Mexico, and found ourselves a state park that seemed designed just for our grubby little rock collecting souls: Rockhound State Park.

Kingsnake

Painted Desert and Petrified Forest, Arizona

Even though we had visiting the Petrified Forest on our list before the trip started, we weren’t sure what to expect from it.  Not having high expectations, we were pleasantly surprised to find that the Painted Desert was right next door, and that we could visit them both on the same drive.

 

We started at the Painted Desert, which proved to be an accurate name. The dominant color scheme was red, running the gamut in shades between the lightest cream layers to the dark crimson ones. The red soil was a nice contrast to the dark green desert plants and mostly yellow or white blooms. The road runs along the hilltops, so we stopped at a few overlooks, then made our way to the Petrified Forest.

A section of Route 66 runs between the parks, with this car marking the road.

 

At first, the petrified logs were sparse, but we finally came to a part of the park where there were a number of downed trees. Some had the bark still attached, looking much like living bark, and many had formed with brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows. In one wash were thousands of smaller fragments that from a distance looked like the swirled result of a paint truck accident.

Petrified wood fragments

All in all, it was an easy place to spend half a day, and worth the trip.

Roadside Curiosity

View from the window of balancing rocks

Along the section of Highway 89A that runs at the base of the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument, is a little geographical oddity. Large boulders, that presumably rolled down the cliffs years ago, stand balanced on weathered pillars that have eroded from underneath the massive rocks. Nestled among the boulders, and built against them, are the remains of a small house built of the local rock. According to the story at the site, the house was built by Blanche Russell after her car broke down along the road in the 1920s, and she decided she loved the area.

Sometimes You Shouldn’t Go Back

Reluctant to leave Antelope Canyon, but realizing that it wouldn’t be much of a road trip if we didn’t, we headed south. We had originally planned to skip Prescott Valley, our former home, but got in touch with some friends who still live there and made plans to meet for breakfast.

When we lived in Prescott Valley, it was a small mostly residential community with only a few stoplights. Our house was north of town on 2.5 acres and we had uninterrupted views of the sunset, the brilliant stars, and often spectacular lightning storms. When we drove in from the east, we were amazed to see that the two-lane road closest to our house had turned into a full-blown freeway.

This used to be a two-lane road with a stop sign. The overpass was a minor highway at the north end of town.

 

Heading for our breakfast date, amazement turned into stunned gaping at how once open grassland, home to roaming herds of pronghorn, had been buried under housing developments that blended into miles of retail strips containing every chain store imaginable. The bypass road where you may have passed half a dozen cars 15-years ago, was now an unrecognizable multi-lane monstrosity that was already overcrowded early in the morning. The retail bonanza continued along the highway into Prescott and we were relieved to get to our destination and meet up with our friends.

After breakfast, we made a few necessary stops, including one at the Friends of the Library store to stock up on books, then fled town. We found a small campground high in the mountains to stop at and catch our breath. There, we met a lovely man who had spent his life in the film industry, and came over later to sit by our fire and share Scotch – that he kindly provided – and travel stories. His company went a long way toward washing away the stress of the day.

While we had discovered that desert living wasn’t for us, and we were glad to move back to the coast, it was still a shock to discover what Prescott Valley had become. Most disappointing of all was that, where the Milky Way had once glowed bright overhead, the lights of progress had blotted out the stars.

Antelope Canyon, Arizona

I'll tell you right up front, this is going to be a photo-heavy post. To see the whole post, click on "Read more" at the bottom; it's in tiny green type, so it's easy to miss.

Vertical streaks are from water pouring over the lip of the canyon

Antelope Canyon is outside Page, Arizona, and very near Lake Powell. Why we never visited when we lived in Arizona, and camped at Lake Powell several times, is completely beyond me. 

Lake Powell full moon