My home life has most certainly changed since I last wrote. I’m house-sitting for one of the most senior attorneys for the remainder of my stay in Roswell. I have been incredibly blessed with this opportunity. I’ll have to take a picture of what my rent is for this place. I will, I promise.

My adventure last weekend was a trip to Carlsbad Caverns. It really was something else to be so far underground–to see the natural cathedral burrowed so deep in the earth. And all around–above-ground–there’s just open desert, some rock formations and some really wowing 360º views. I love my home state, but this portion of New Mexico has a good reign on natural wonders being within a day-trip of one another.

This weekend I went out to White Sands. I really have no grand idea what to expect when I venture out to these places. I just look them up on a map, check the hours, pricing, etc. Then I load up the car and drive on. The drive to White Sands was just as it had been described by one of the attorneys in the office. He said, “You drive up into the mountains, you’re winding around them at a pretty high altitude, then all of a sudden, you see the sands.” It was just like that. It’s one of those times where you could put the car in neutral for several miles as you make a rapid descent into this valley, this big expanse of sand sandwiched amidst mountain ranges.

The sands were intriguing. It was hot, but no hotter than the surrounding parts of New Mexico (Roswell included). It felt like it was more dry, but that may have been the psychological effect of being surrounded by sand for miles and miles. I did get thirsty much faster. I drove the whole 8-mile circle they have set up at the monument, slowly. I got out to walk some trails, then I forged my own by climbing to the top of a larger dune. The sand shifted underneath, not unlike loose powder does right after a good snow.

After time at the sands, based upon a wise suggestion, I drove through a mountain town named Cloudcroft (elevation: 9,000 something, my ears were popping). It was very charming, and I drove through a tunnel in the mountains. No snow or anything, unfortunately. The air was cool, though. And it was nice to be back in the mountains after having been in the desert not even 2 hours earlier. I had some pizza at a local shop with odd combinations on their sign (Cappuccino, Espresso, Latte, Pizza, Subs, Ice Cream).

I started to venture back toward Roswell. But, my TomTom was misbehaving a bit. It took me on the strangest route to date. A dirt and gravel road turned into washed out mud road. Then, no road at all, just an off-road vehicle path. Eventually, I had to cut my losses. After a 25-point turn-around and more than a few large rocks pummeling the car’s underside, I made my way back, somewhat terrified that I might make another wrong turn in what was very isolated wilderness as far as I was concerned.

I made it back to the main highway–and insisted that TomTom follow my lead. Eventually, our wills met and I was taking the main highway back to Roswell, down and out of the mountains. Several miles, very few car spottings, many deer and jackrabbit spottings, and a local apple purchase later, I was back in Roswell.

My weekends have been quite the adventure. I’m already looking forward to next weekend (no plans yet).