Probably everyone in southern New Mexico has visited the City of Rocks, between Deming and Silver City, at one time or another. Like many things to see in our high desert neighborhood, you saw it once and then you kind of forgot about it.

On another one of our recent weekly journeys to rediscover our southern New Mexico back yard, we traveled to City of Rocks State Park. We probably had not been there for 20 or more years.

Since we last visited, there have been many improvements to facilities — better trails, picnic areas, upgraded camp sites and a visitor center which we could not visit because of the COVID-19 restrictions in place at state parks.

One thing that was particularly nice during our visit was that the park was restricted to New Mexico residents only. When we arrived at the gate, the helpful and efficient park ranger asked us to prove our citizenship, so I whipped out my new “Safe ID” New Mexico driver’s license — its first use since I got it in late December. We visited the park on a Saturday and there were few other (all New Mexican) visitors. That factor, along with spectacular mid-winter weather, left us with a great memory.

I’ve attached some photos from our trip. I hope you’ll take the time to visit or revisit the park soon. From Las Cruces, it’s just a little over an hour and one-half drive — well worth it.

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You might remember that in 1994, an Albuquerque woman received a $2.86 million settlement when she was burned by hot coffee at a McDonald’s drive-up window.

Not to be outdone, a Taos woman pursued legal action against the double golden arches in the northern New Mexico community during 2016.

In this case, the woman claimed that when she attempted to roll toilet paper off the dispenser in the women’s restroom, the entire unit detached from the wall of the stall and struck her in the head. I could not find information about whether the case was settled.

I’m hoping the chain did not counter sue for destruction of property, perhaps arguing she was pulling too hard on the roll of toilet paper. If that was the case, it certainly would have said a lot about the tensile strength of the toilet paper and how comfortable it might have been to use.

An Albuquerque TV station seeking tips on local news stories got a call from a man in 2015 who said his next door neighbor’s bee boxes were a source or annoyance for the surrounding area. The neighbors complained of the constant buzzing and cringed about the danger of being stung by one of the critters.

Apparently desperate for something on a slow news day, the TV station rushed a crew to the scene, whereupon the cameraman was promptly stung by one of the bees.

Point taken, literally. The neighbor with the bees acquiesced and agreed to relocate his bee boxes to a location out in the country.

I never cease to be amazed by the new things I am constantly learning about New Mexico history. For example, did you know that Thomas B. Catron, the attorney known for his role in the “Santa Fe Ring” and the Teapot Dome Scandal in the early 1900s was once the largest private land owner in New Mexico?

Okay, well I guess only a New Mexico history nerd like me gets excited about that stuff.

Anyway, a good friend of mine has recently published a book with 13 engaging stories about some New Mexico historical events, most of which are not well known.

The book by fellow Las Cruces resident John P. (Jack) Wilson, entitled New Mexico Episodes, Stories from a colorful past, is an easy and entertaining read which I recommend to everyone. It has perhaps the best summary of the Lincoln County War I’ve seen, a great story about a faithful dog and tales about early stagecoach trips and mail delivery in the territory. And there’s the story about a legal effort to pinpoint the location of a historic home in a land dispute. In the legal proceedings, a 91-year-old witness, interrogated by none other than Thomas B. Catron, was asked for the location of the kitchen in the dilapidated structure. His response was that he did not know where it was because “I was not the cook.”

The book is available online through Barnes and Noble, Amazon.com., Ebay.com., Thriftbooks and other online booksellers.  Local bookstores may stock it as well.

My friend Jack, a Harvard graduate nonetheless, has written several other books of a historical nature and has an outstanding career as an archaeologist, historian and author. I hope you’ll give his new book a look.

We spotted this spectacular purple RV in the parking lot of Wal-Mart last week. It appeared as if someone had been sleeping in it overnight.

It’s somewhat similar to the “Bounder” RV that Walter White used as a mobile meth lab in the TV series “Breaking Bad,” but it probably would have been a poor choice for him. A little too obtuse, don’t you think? Or maybe this was repurposed after Cousin Eddie from National Lampoon’s “Christmas Vacation” sold off his rusty RV to move to Nevada.

Roswell, home of the 1947 UFO incident. Home of the bleeding picture of Jesus. Home of the guy who escaped from law enforcement last year and tried to disguise himself by wearing a skirt, carrying a pink purse and forgetting to shave his red beard.

Last week, we had a report of another memorable Roswell incident. In this case, a reporter for an Albuquerque TV station was arrested for impersonating a police officer on at least four occasions last year between March and June. He was also suspended from his job.

Arrest warrants said the suspect arrived at crime scenes in his look-alike unmarked police unit which sported flashing lights, a blaring siren and a dash camera which recorded his nefarious activities. At one incident, he was wearing a badge, carrying a pistol and wearing tactical gear, which he said was required at his job as a security officer. In another incident, another law enforcement official mistook him for a real policeman and asked him to direct traffic. In a third incident, he chased down a suspected drunk driver, pinned his car in his driveway and called for real police assistance to arrest the man. At that point, the cops were onto his ruse.

After his arrest, police recovered the dashboard camera which provided some very incriminating evidence. One video clip, which he entitled “En route to a shooting,” showed him racing to the crime scene with siren blaring and red lights flashing while running four stop signs and a traffic light.

If aliens ever show up near Roswell again, it’s too bad this guy won’t be there to record the incident. He’d probably have no trouble getting through police and security barriers for some great video.

In 2012, a woman was displeased with only placing fifth in the highly competitive Miss Texas contest and moved to New Mexico to enter the Miss New Mexico contest.

Apparently, fifth best from Texas was good enough for first place in the Land of Enchantment and she was selected as Miss New Mexico.

Perhaps thinking that the New Mexico title wasn’t prestigious enough for her, she then moved to New Orleans and entered as a contestant in the Miss Louisiana contest. However, when scouring her somewhat checkered contestant past, contest authorities discovered that she was too old to compete for the Louisiana title.

Undeterred, she then entered the Miss Louisiana USA contest, which she won.

As an aside, stories about her beauty contest odyssey also noted that her boyfriend owned a chain of Cajun restaurants called “Slap Ya Momma.”

I’m glad Miss Fifth Best from Texas ultimately decided New Mexico wasn’t good enough for her. We deserve better. And we certainly don’t want a restaurant with a name that would have to be translated to “Abofetear a tu Madre.”

Several years ago, my wife and I made a quick day trip to fly fish on the Rio Penasco, a spring-fed stream between Cloudcroft and Artesia which always produces surprising results in place where you might not expect it. Fishing on the private section of water requires membership in the Mesilla Valley Fly Fishers, which is a great organization for promoting fly fishing and conserving the few but spectacular cold water fisheries in southern New Mexico. Check it out below.

mvff.org

On our trip from Las Cruces, we passed through the village of Mayhill, where we often stop at the only convenience store and gas station east of Cloudcroft.

We stopped for snacks and some water but took time to look at the store’s latest tacky souvenir offerings. Two things caught our eye. First was a keychain made from a real rattlesnake head, preserved for eternity when dipped into heavy clear plastic. And the second (for the easily offended, I did not make this up) were a pair of earrings with a merchandise tag noting that their unusual shape was because they were made from the penis of raccoons.

I report this not for purposes of shocking anyone with uncomfortable discussions of things prurient, but to remind us that New Mexico is always offering up the unexpected.

I will always remember the time I purchased a kitchen magnet at a roadside stop near Socorro with the shape of New Mexico and the words “Arizona” emblazoned on it. And to add insult to injury, there was an image of a suguaro cactus on the item.

A man from Chaparral, in southern Dona Ana County, checked himself in to a hospital in El Paso this week, claiming to have overdosed on methamphetamine. He received treatment, but when he saw security approaching him, he bolted and ran for the parking lot.

There he spotted a 10-wheel fuel tanker truck idling with the driver waiting inside. He yanked the driver out of the cab of the tanker and them proceeded to speed off — well maybe lumber off is the more appropriate description.

The man led El Paso police on a chase along Interstate 10, crossing into New Mexico, but not heading towards his home on the opposite side of the Franklin Mountains. New Mexico State Police placed “stopsticks” in the roadway to rip oven the truck’s tires and bring the vehicle to a halt near Las Cruces. Police then arrested the man they described as being “out of it” but nonetheless compliant.

In addition to the $40,000 cost of the truck and its 10 now-flat tires, Police said the vehicle’s tank contained about 500 gallons of fuel worth $5,000 and the truck was carrying about $4,000 in special refueling equipment. Police had to close the Interstate briefly as a result of the incident.

Because he transported a vehicle across state lines, the suspect is now facing federal charges.

This incident raises several questions in my mind. First, why was a fuel tanker in the parking lot of a hospital? And second, how did the suspect get to the hospital in the first place? And if he drove himself there, why not use his own vehicle or something else faster and less visible than a large lumbering fuel tanker for the escape. And finally and perhaps most important, what was he going to do with all that fuel if he had succeeded in his escape? If convicted for his caper, he’ll have 10 years to think about that in federal prison.

Some of you may remember the 2014 World Cup soccer match when professional footballer Luis Suarez, representing his home nation of Uruguay, bit the shoulder of an Italian player. It turns out that Suarez, actually a very talented player, had bitten opponents at least two other times in his professional career.

The 2014 bite seen round the world prompted one great joke which was “What’s for lunch? — Italian!”

Okay, that was tacky. But a year later, a woman in Albuquerque must have had some inspiration from Suarez when, during a fight with her boyfriend, nipped off a chunk of his ear.

When police arrived to the scene of the fracas, the woman presented officers with the chunk of her boyfriend’s ear. Perhaps it was in hopes that the court might view her retrieval of the severed part as a conciliatory gesture to receive a milder sentence. Or maybe she didn’t have enough Tabasco sauce to make it a meal. Okay, that was tacky too. I’ll try to write something more uplifting next time.

The Los Alamos National Laboratory is a high tech, super secure research facility located in the foothills of the Jemez Mountains. It was so secret that during World War II, when it was working on the Manhattan Project to perfect the atomic bomb, mail and equipment deliveries to the lab were addressed to a single post office box in nearby Santa Fe. The first time I visited the secret city with my parents in the late 1950s, I remember having to go through a heavily guarded check point where we were all carefully scrutinized.

The main residential and commercial parts of the city are now open to all, but the research facilities and laboratories are all guarded by high-tech security measures and are strictly off-limits for regular visitors.

So it was surprising that in 2005 Lab security forces discovered an Amarillo man had been living in a cave in one of the deep rugged canyons which thread through the high security part of the laboratory property. When questioned, the man admitted he had been living there for the last four years. In his time there, he had managed to upgrade his cave with a glass door, heater, solar generator, satellite radio, mattress and other accoutrements, including equipment to set up and operate his own website.

Keeping in the spirit of his surrounding scientific environment, security forces said his website explained his “Single Big Bang/Single Expanding Universe/Finite Cosmos” physics theory.

And no, they didn’t offer him a job after his arrest for trespassing.

During the 2010 New Mexico election campaign for governor, Republican candidate and Dona Ana County District Attorney Susana Martinez and Democrat candidate Lt. Gov. Diane Denish engaged in several contentious debates.

During one, Denish was attempting to accuse Martinez of giving large pay raises to her staff. She meant to say the Republican candidiate gave big fat bonuses to her staff. Instead she said they had received “big fat boners.”

Denish ultimately lost the race to the Republican, but it’s not clear whether her slip of the lip had anything to do with it.

In 2005, the New Mexico State Fair Commission was faced with a difficult decision. It seems that many people had begun to complain that the annual fall exposition had become to long and cumbersome.

The commission decided to go into special session to discuss how they might cut some of the days out of the 17-day event.

After a day long session, they had a solution — they decided to add an extra day to the event and make it run for a marathon 18 days.

Which just goes to show — well, I don’t know what.

I’m known by my family, friends and neighbors for being fastidious about keeping my vehicles well maintained and showroom clean. I can see my neighbors rolling their eyes when I’m outside on a 42 degree morning, washing my cars or pickup. I even wash off the inside of my wheel wells and scrub dirt off the visible sections of my exhaust pipes. I know — it’s on the edge of obsessive compulsive behavior

But I did get some reinforcement for my habit last year when my cardiologist confirmed that washing cars was a good cardiovascular activity to help me recover from my heart surgery. I felt renewed justification for my aberrant behavior.

My 2012 GMC Sierra pickup is a bit too long to fit into my garage and besides I already have it filled with my vintage 1975 BMW 2002 and my wife’s vehicle. So the pickup sits outside and gets washed even more frequently than my other cars.

Lately, I’ve been parking it under some branches of a Russian olive tree at the side of my house so it gets a little protection from the damaging UV rays in our high desert environment. But in addition to being a good spot for the pickup, it’s also a great spot for nesting white winged doves, who locals like to refer to as the “rats of the sky.”

And like rats, they poop everywhere — including on the hood of my pickup. GRRRR.

Several years ago, enraged by the amount of bird poop on my outdoor picnic table, I bought one of those plastic owls that are supposed to scare away birds and other critters. Mine is now so old that its formerly scary giant yellow eyes now have cataracts. But in some parts of the yard it has worked pretty well.

So when an unexpectedly large amount of bird pickup pooping started a couple of weeks ago, I thought maybe it was time to move the owl from “guarding” my outdoor picnic table to a spot near my truck. The first place I located it was near our trash bins, but it didn’t seem to work very well, judging by the volume of “stuff” left behind. I moved it to the base of the tree and suddenly, no more dove dung.

Then the collection of crap came back with a vengance. So this time, I thought I would place the own directly on top of my hood, just inches away from where I figured this one outlaw dove was spending the night.

The next morning I found this:

My plastic owl might have literally scared the s*** out of the dove, or it just didn’t give a s*** about its presence — I’m sure of the latter. At any rate, the pooping continues.

My brother once told me that when he lived in Philadelphia, pigeon poop at city hall had become a huge problem, mostly for defiling the statue of William Penn which graced the dome of the dignified historic structure. Various methods were tried to eradicate or relocate the pigeons. One involved feeding the birds seed that had been infused with tranquilizers. That didn’t work out well for the people walking near city hall when a drunken pigeon would suddenly fall out of the sky on their head or splat on the sidewalk in front of them. The next method — and my brother swore this was true — was to record the yowls of a cat being hung upside down in a cage and then blasting its shrieks on loudspeakers at full volume around city hall at various times during the day. The problem with this was that the usual rhythm of downtown streets would be stunningly interrupted with the cringe inducing yowl of a tortured cat, followed by an immense fluttering of pigeons which would then defecate on everything and anyone as they fluttered to safety.

I’m not sure my neighbors — already probably annoyed by my frequent car washing regimen — would go for that. The alternatives, I suppose, are daily washes for my truck, cutting down the tree, building a third bay on my garage or tethering a real owl to the tree. None of these seem to be practical, so I’ll await your suggestions.

In the meantime s*** happens.