July 17, 2005
Home from the NACR, Day 3
I took K. to Sky Harbor airport this morning so that she can be back at work tomorrow. It wasn’t exactly a fun thing. I missed her the moment I dropped her off. I returned to my brother's place and had breakfast with my sister -in-law. I left around 8 am, and after some trouble finding a decent gas station. I had decided that I wanted to see the part of Arizona north east of Phoenix. So went up towards Lake Roosevelt and saw Canyon Lake, which is relatively close to the metro area. There are lots of Jet skis, stupid cigarette boats and water-skiers.
I'm not sure what the winds would be like. It was fairly calm when I stopped there at 11:30 am. Then, I proceeded towards Lake Roosevelt on AZ route 88 and a few miles down the road form Canyon Lake found that the paved road ended and would not resume until I arrived at Lake Roosevelt. I continued, but doubted my sanity. This road, the Apache trail, was a single lane dirt road. Cars would come along in the other direction and I had a couple of close calls. The road was winding, treacherous, and narrow. Apparently it was originally built to get the supplies up to build Roosevelt dam in the 1920’s.
I arrived at Roosevelt dam, and talked briefly to the ranger on duty. I learned that there are a few sailboats there, and that the winds can be strong – over 20 knots, and that they are erratic. The Ranger mentioned that fishing is the biggest sport. I hate fishing, but listened politely anyway. Who really knows what the winds are like here? I did see a few sailboats, mostly big ones.
Having had enough of towing my poor Surprise along rough winding dirt roads, I proceeded on through Miami, Globe, and Safford, AZ and over the border into New Mexico. That part of Arizona, the Apache reservation, is depressing. There were several signs advising people against suicide, and the small towns and houses along the road were deserted or had the look of extreme depression.
I finally made to Las Cruces, NM, and decided to call it a day. After checking into a hotel, I went in search of New Mexican style food and found it. A little restaurant called Andale' in Old Mesilla south of Las Cruces. They had some of the best salsa. I'm sorry to have to admit it, but it beats the pants off of any Tex-Mex style salsa I've had to date.
Tomorrow is another and hopefully my last full day of travel. I miss K., and want to get home.
