Well, that’s that

Bags unpacked, laundry done, southwestern dust washed off and vacuumed out of the car, and so here we are:

Yesterday, I drove from Santa Fe, New Mexico to Shreveport, Louisiana, with a few stops on the way. Today I drove to Alabama from Shreveport – a hop, skip and not even a jump. I was open to taking another day along the way initially, but as time went on, I started getting antsy – my usual end-of-trip I hope the house is okay hope the pipes didn’t burst for some reason hope no one broke in…and I just want to get back to make sure everything’s okay.

(I have neighbors who are apprised of my comings and goings and who watch out for me – as I watch out for them – but still. They wouldn’t necessarily know if there was a water issue inside or if someone had broken in. So…I get antsy.)

(Plus September is going to be quite busy, mostly with family-related things, not empty nest shenanigans, and I was also feeling the need to be alone in my house before all of that began.)

(Weird.)

So let’s do this. I’ll briefly survey the last couple of days Out West, then tomorrow or the next day, I’ll do my usual summary of where I went, where I stayed, and why. Perhaps I’ll have More Thoughts as well. Excited yet?

Where were we?

Oh yes, Sunday.

Sunday morning, I went to Mass at the Cathedral downtown. It’s quite lovely. I’ll refrain from playing the dreadful Mass Critic game, as well.

(For now. Just know that if in time, you read a post that begins, A few weeks ago, I was at Mass – oh, not here, but somewhere far away – you might be able to connect some dots.

After Mass, I wandered around the Plaza area a bit. My plan had been to go to the Georgia O’Keefe museum directly after Mass, but when I arrived there, I saw a sign sternly telling me that RESERVATIONS ARE REQUIRED.

Oh, okay. Dutifully, I opened up the phone and made the first available reservation – 12:30, and commenced wandering.

Shopping with the Native American vendors who sell at the Palace of Governors, chatting with a few, going into a few shops and then the Loretto Chapel and, of more interest to me, frankly, San Miguel Chapel – the oldest Christian structure in the United States. The story of it is rather interesting – it’s owned, not by the Archdiocese, but by a St. Michael’s High School, which is in turn a Christian Brothers institution.

(The TLM was celebrated there until…well, fill in the blanks. I’m sure you can.)

I was very impressed by the San Miguel situation. It was opened at the designated time, and there was a docent in the chapel, talking, explaining and being very helpful in general – and there was a lot of signage giving the background of the structure as well.

That was great to see – and rare in terms of historic Catholic structures. As you have heard me say too many times before.

Finally – to the O’Keefe museum. I was extremely annoyed (but quietly so) because ahead of me in line when it was time to check in were two women who DID NOT HAVE RESERVATIONS but were allowed admittance anyway. Well, that just goes to show – usually I’m assertive about things like this, and find that it pays – and I guess it would have, as it turns out.

There on the far left is one of the paintings of the black door which I wrote about before. The middle painting, I think, is my favorite of the O’Keefe works to which I’ve been exposed on this trip, especially after seeing the landscape and hearing the docent’s insights about it on the tour last week.

Anyway, the O’Keefe museum is nice, but. It offers a good overview of her life and career, and features one of my favorite of her paintings, but the collection is quite small, especially considering the normal price – $18. Too much – way too much – for the size of the collection.

After this, I got back in my car and decided to finish up what I began on Tuesday, the Day of the Tires – the Pecos National Historical Monument.

I began, though, by going out further, intending to hit Pecos on my way back towards Santa Fe. I went out to Las Vegas, New Mexico, which was supposed to be an interesting little town. There were a few well-reviewed restaurants out there, all of which were either closed or closing by the time I arrived, so oh well, who needs to eat anyway. Not me, for sure.

The downtown area is certainly picturesque in that Western-town kind of way, although most of the storefronts are dusty and empty. Also in that Western-town kind of way. What’s interesting though, is that chunks of the film No Country for Old Men were filmed here – most of the “town” sections – while most of the country sections were filmed around Marfa, Texas. So, for example, the hotel scene was filmed in and around this, yes, hotel.

There was this striking statue in the square, erected for the intentions of those impacted by addiction, especially the mothers of the addicted – Our Lady of Sorrows.

Which is, incidentally, the name of one of the parishes in town, and this was the highlight of my brief Las Vegas trip (no, not that Las Vegas) – the interior of Our Lady of Sorrows parish which was, honestly, breathtaking.

Above the original altar were statues representing the crucifixion, above them were electric lights in a blue painted sky, and behind them, painted on the wall, were other figures associated with the crucifixion narrative – the two thieves, the soldiers and so on. I’m sorry my photo didn’t capture the background, but I found it charming and moving. Cheesy, some might say, and sure. But of a time and place – I’m guessing the 20’s-40’s, since using electricity in this way in churches became popular in the 20’s – of its own, and I am very grateful that the parishioners and ministers of this parish over the years have chosen to keep it as it was. When I opened the door that afternoon, I was surprised by two things: first, that the doors were unlocked – and secondly, at the impact of this tableau. Lovely.

Time to circle back – to Pecos this time, at last, with just a bit of PTSD as my emotions revisited the place of the Tire Bubble. It was a relatively quick walk around the site, with the typically excellent NPS signage, respectful of all the cultures and tensions represented here.

Before leaving the area, a quick trip up to the gates of the Pecos Monastery – had to! A monastery! But I didn’t attempt to visit because it was getting late. Pecos was famous back in the day for being one of the centers of the Catholic Charismatic Movement in the US. I don’t know what it’s like now, but at least it’s still there!

I knew I’d want to do computer work when I got back, but as I’d discovered, the internet in my rental was not great. It was in a nice part of town, and the place was good, but they had my internet operating off of a booster from the main house, and it just wasn’t enough.

So, thank you Whole Foods, for having a place where I could work and have a beer without feeling like I was taking up unwarranted space. Me and the three young women, whom I suspect were studens at St. John’s because they were studying the Odyssey and cursing up a storm as they did so, incidentally. It was…entertaining.

Let’s finish this up.

Monday morning, time to get going and head back east. Good-bye, cute casita with the bad internet!

I won’t bore you with my thought processes during the Day of Driving – let’s just say that while Shreveport was a general goal, I had no place in particular in mind to stay, and, depending on how the day went, actually contemplated…going the whole way home. Seriously.

But no, that didn’t happen. I did make a couple of wonderful stops – they were brief, but satisfying.

First, Palo Duro Canyon.

Miles and miles of the landscape on the left..then…BOOM.

Looky there. It’s a whole in the ground.

It’s the second-largest canyon in the United States (you can guess the first), and a state park, south of Amarillo. I didn’t go to the state park, having read that good views of the canyon could be had by driving on 207 between Claude and Silverton. It would add time to my drive, but it’s all about the journey, isn’t it?

Since I wouldn’t be hiking or dawdling, I decided the drive would be good enough – and it was. A beautiful descent and ascent into the canyon, a drive popular with motorcyclists for obvious reasons.

Continuing just a few miles east of Silverton, I arrived at Quitaque (pronunciation helpfully offered on the sign) and the short road up to Capstone Canyon State Park. I thought this canyon was even prettier than Palo Duro – plus it has the official Bison Herd of Texas or something, and prairie dogs. It would be a great canyon in which to hike – but not on a late August day when it was 95 degrees and you were the only person in sight in the whole park except for an older couple that had just parked their RV in one of the campsites, after a lengthy discussion with the visitors’ center attendant about which spot would have the best views.

And just a few miles beyond that was Turkey, Texas, hometown of Bob Wills. And don’t you forget it!

After that point, I only got out of the car once – to get gas somewhere north of Fort Worth – until Shreveport, and I’m telling you, when I did emerge in Shreveport and enter my hotel room, I have never felt such a dramatic change in atmosphere. After being out west for a week, I walked into that room and thought Why is everything WET?

It was weird and not pleasant.

Today?

Here’s a nice view of the Mississippi River from the I-20 Welcome Center.

Of course, I have reflections on various aspects of this trip, including the meta-empty-nest aspect, but guys, let me just upload these photos and call it a night, okay?