The street where we live is kind of like a red-headed stepchild. We live within the corporate limits of the Town of Mesilla, but really have little in common with the historic community to the west of us. We seldom see the town marshal’s vehicles patrolling our streets or any maintenance crews showing an interest in our streets or other infrastructure.
A couple of weeks ago, a pothole just east of our house seemed to have appeared overnight. Although not large enough to swallow a vintage Volkswagen beetle, it might have caused serious damage to the front suspension of a Ford F250 Super Duty if driven fast enough. After wandering through the Mesilla Town website I was finally able to find a phone number to speak to a human. (Seriously, go on the website and see how long it takes you to find a good phone number https://www.mesillanm.gov/). Luckily I finally reached a nice young man, told him about the pothole and a couple of others nearby and he promised to fill out a work order to fix the problem.
The next day, someone — I assume from the city — had spray painted white lines around the offending potholes in hopes that a feral Chihuahua dog might avoid getting lost in them. Then came the rains. It rained for four solid days and soaked us with about 1.66 inches of the wet stuff — more than I remember experiencing in all my years here. That was followed by several nights of below freezing temperatures. That was the perfect combination to make the potholes grow even bigger.
When it finally seemed that the water had drained out of the potholes, I called the Town of Mesilla again and asked them if they could address the problem. Much to my appreciation, they appeared the next day and the potholes were filled. I made the point to thank them in person as they were dumping globs of hot mix on the offending street chasms.
This made me think of a story told by a good friend of mine in Santa Fe a few years ago. He said that a recent article in the Santa Fe New Mexican announced that the city was “declaring war” on potholes along the city’s ancient streets. As an example, the newspaper showed a picture of a nasty pothole near the downtown plaza.
He was a collector of old newspapers and proceeded to pull out a copy of the New Mexican from about 20 years earlier showing a photo of the same pothole in about the same condition it was in the most recent photo. The photo accompanied an article saying the city was “going to get tough” on potholes.
So looking at the illustration above, it appears we only have two choices to stop potholes on city streets:
- Control the weather so we don’t get rain followed by freezing temperatures
- Eliminate vehicles from roads
I’m not sure when the first oxcart or wagon rolled into New Mexico, but I have learned that the first automobile that came to our state showed up on a drive from Denver over Raton Pass to Albuquerque in 1897. That vehicle was a steam-powered “Locomobile” that was purchased by Albuquerque bicycle dealer R.L. Dodson.
The first gasoline powered vehicle in the state was owned by Taos physician Dr. Thomas Paul Martin, known locally as “Doc Martin.” His home is now the famous Taos Inn on the town’s main drag and includes a restaurant known as “Doc Martin’s.”
Martin is said to have brought the vehicle to Taos in 1900. There are no know photographs of that vehicle but below is a picture from a few years later with a newer car, loaded with members of the Taos Pueblo.
We really don’t know for sure when the first potholes arrived in New Mexico, but it may have started with what you see below.
I suspect potholes will be around to annoy drivers even after the whole transportation thing is fully automated and cars and trucks just float above the surface of a roadway. I think I’ll take a photo of the next pothole I see on our street and ask that it be compared to that same location 100 years from now.
aero-cordero.com 