City of Rocks

City of Rocks

New Mexico State Park

South of Silver City, NM

Jason and Nancy

 

 Nancy shot this story book photo.  Jason is shooting panos.  This southwestern New Mexico area has a hold on us.  Maybe because it's warm enough.  Maybe because it is panoramic.  Most photographs here are Jason's.

 Campsite view of Table Top Mountain and our morning walk to the top.  

 

 

 

 

 The view from Table Top back to our camp in the City of Rocks.  Our camp is the tiniest white dot on the right margin. 

The camp sites, isolated from each other by distance and by the rocks themselves, were nestled and perfected into the landscape, leveled with beautiful stone work.  

 

This the view from a campsite; below the view of that campsite. 

 Others were nestled down into the rocks. Ours was three sides rock and wide open to and still shaded from the big southern exposure.

 The City of Rocks is a big pile of lava cooled and eroded into odd looking shapes and groupings.  It invites imagination. The volcano spewing this lava erupted here for about 200 years.  There are paths and perches all through, in and over the rocks.  The park encourages biking on and around them.  At a certain age, maybe 7 or 8, this would have been Marky heaven.  The City is so big when you are in it, and looks so small from Table Top.

 



Another camp site sheltered and snuggled into the park, marked by the brown sign.

 Madeline's camp!  Happy Birthday Ms. Aries!

Bouquets for the birthday daughter both from Jason.  The blooming has followed us everywhere.  We have traveled through deserts at the perfect time for spring flowerings.

 Pegasus Campground, a suburb of the City.

Here what I know of the Missouri River breaks and surrounding Montana prairie lands merge in my mind with the Chihuahuan and Sonoran deserts.  Plants from both exist here and it is cooler.  We have come back to a higher elevation--very little creosote now, but still no sage.  Sante Fe had snow yesterday.

Wind.  The wild Texas wind they sing about must have been born in New Mexico.  Most mornings are calm.  Ninety-six days in, we don’t worry too much any more about blowing over.  We do laugh about getting back quickly enough to weight her down for the afternoon wind. 

I miss tenting for the total immersion in outdoors.  The camper is a shell of civilization that we easily fold into.  It isn’t the outside 24/7 feel.  I wake in the morning, reach up to the thermostat without even rolling over.  That’s pretty nice too.