Good news!!! Lindsay, our daughter, tested negative for the COVID-19 virus, as her husband Tedd, had done the day before. Hannah has been symptom free since Saturday (except for the erroneously low blood oxygen level reading due to her application of glittery fingernail polish.)
The family should be able to return to “normal” activities today. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers. Take this seriously, and wear a mask. We’re not out of the woods yet.
Earlier this year, police in Las Cruces spotted a vehicle inching along a city street as it emitted an ear-splitting scraping noise. Upon closer investigation, the police discovered that the vehicle had only three tires and the fourth corner of the car was propped up only with a steel rim, gouging the pavement as it lurched along.
Police tried to give chase, but the car’s driver ignored the siren and lights and the vehicle eventually wobbled into the parking lot of a Wal-Mart. When the officers coaxed the man out of the tilting vehicle, it was clear he was inebriated. At one point, he tried to take a swing at an officer, but lost his balance and fell down. He was promptly arrested.
But it begs the question of whether he was intentionally heading to Wal-Mart to pick out a new tire to fit his now-mangled wheel.
Things are looking up for Hannah. She has gone 48 hours without any symptoms of COVID-19 — temperature normal, blood oxygen normal, no coughs, aches, etc. Her parents and Hayes are getting tested this week for the virus. If everything is okay, they will be back to normal — whatever that is these days — by Friday.
For those of you who are inclined to think “see, it was no big deal, no worse than the ‘common cold,'” please consider these points. Her parents (and grandparents) have been under incredible stress and anxiety for the last week. They had to take even more extreme measures to isolate themselves. They are still not absolutely sure she is out of the woods. And we still don’t know for certain what kinds of long-range effects this virus may have on anyone. Others in the household may still become infected. For those of you who are focused on financial issues, consider how much time and cost this one case has placed on the medical system. Then multiply it by more than 6.8 million cases so far in the United States alone. So please, take this seriously and wear a mask until we get through this.
Now on a funny note last Saturday, Hannah’s blood oxygen level had fallen below what medical experts say is normal. At home, they had been measuring the blood oxygen level with a finger clip-on monitor. Earlier that day, Hannah had decided it was time to paint her fingernails with a sparkly fingernail polish — most likely pink or purple, knowing her preferences. They took her to the doctor and used a more professional instrument to measure her blood oxygen level and found that everything was fine. I mentioned the story to our physician friend who lives across the street, and he laughed, saying it was a “classic” case of fingernail polish, particularly of the sparkly variety, interfering with the reading. “It happens all the time,” he chuckled.
Hannah’s mother says her temperature, which was as high as 105 at one time, continues to move up and down. The peaks have not been as high, as we understand it, so we’re hoping it points to continued improvement. This morning she wanted to eat “Cheerios with sprinkles,” which her mom said was “something that helps.” Mostly, she is tired of being sick and quarantined in her room. In the meantime, her mother, father and brother are also on lockdown as they wait to see if the virus has spread any further. We continue to remain optimistic about her recovery. Thanks to all of you for your kind thoughts and prayers.
We received incredibly disheartening news this morning from our tearful daughter who announced that our beautiful five-year-old granddaughter, Hannah, has been infected with the COVID-19 virus. We feel confident she will recover, but I do ask for your prayers for her.
For now, I’m going to try to limit my anger at the leadership in the country that might have prevented this from happening had we been told the truth much earlier about this virus. And I’m going to ask you all to wear a mask, which science continues to say is the best way to prevent the continued spread of COVID-19.
Again, your prayers for Hannah would be incredibly meaningful to all of us.
In case you missed it, I’m attaching a YouTube video of a porta potty that was pushed down Central Avenue in Albuquerque last week during a high wind weather event. Someone cleverly enhanced the video with a sound track of the song “Dust in the Wind” by the group Kansas.
When I first read the story in the Albuquerque Journal about the mobile toilet, I envisioned the unit tumbling down the street, end over end or on its side. But as you can see in the video, it was basically just skating along completely upright on Central, part of the old Route 66. The more I looked at the video, it seemed that the portable toilet had just decided to make a run for it. It escaped — it was finally free! Maybe it got tired of what disgusting things people did inside it. Maybe it didn’t like its location. Maybe it just declared freedom from its sedentary life. Maybe, as the song suggests, it just wanted “get your kicks on Route 66.” It was as if something had “hit the fan” — or a gust of wind in this case.
Okay, if you have a better pun, send it to me and I’ll post it, as long it’s not too offensive and it passes the sniff test. Yuk Yuk.
I’ve been flying hot air balloons since 1983. I’m proud to say I’ve never had an accident (knock on wood). And although I’ve had a couple of memorable pucker moments, the only passenger injury I ever inflicted was when a woman broke the tip of her pinky finger on perhaps the softest landing I ever made. I didn’t even find out about the “injury” until several years later when she confessed to me at a cocktail party that her physician husband, an orthopedist of all things, diagnosed her lingering sore finger as a broken digit.
But through it all, there have been many memorable and happy moments. Most of those involve the joy of giving people their first ride in a balloon. Others are spectacular flights over valleys, hills and rivers on early mornings above the unparalleled New Mexico landscape. I’ll post my thoughts on some of those memories later. But some of my recollections are downright funny. Here’s one.
When I was completing my training in the late 1980s to become a certified commercial pilot, my instructor required me to conduct several “on the edge” flights to handle emergency situations and unusual weather conditions. Most of those flight operations were done on Albuquerque’s West Mesa, where, at the time, the terrain and skies were wide open to make sure you couldn’t get into too much trouble.
On one of the flights, my instructor wanted me to test the balloon’s performance at maximum load weight while doing low level contour ground tracking. Ground tracking, in the right place, is one of my favorite things to do in a balloon. You fly 10-15 feet above the terrain, preferably at a fast clip, and adjust your altitude to accommodate deviations in landscape, vegetation and other objects while zooming along just above the earth. The sensation you get is, that because you’re so close to the ground and you are moving at the speed of the wind, the earth is just rolling toward you while you are stationary in the air. I don’t think I can describe it in any more understandable terms, but those who have done it will know how thrilling it feels.
Anyway, on this particular fall day on the West Mesa, we were zipping along just above low hills and ridges, dodging cedars and other desert bushes. We had dipped into an arroyo just ahead of a major ridge, which was so high that the top of my balloon was below the crest of it. When we successfully cleared the ridge, we spotted an unusual gathering of horses, humans and dogs. The men and women were riding on beautiful horses. All riders on horses were dressed in bright red velvet coats, black helmets, tan or white riding breeches and polished black boots. The dogs, milling around the horses, were all hounds of various breeds, ready to begin a chase. Was it a time warp and we were suddenly on the set of Downton Abbey? NO, IT WAS A FOX HUNT! IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE ON THE REMOTE WEST MESA OF ALBUQUERQUE!
As soon as we had topped the ridge, the dogs suddenly noticed us. A baying sound from the dogs, as loud as anything I’ve heard before, erupted from below. Dogs are particularly sensitive to the high frequency noises produced by a balloon burner, and when it is emitted by a very large object floating in the sky and moving toward you, you can imagine how the dogs reacted. It was utter pandemonium. The leader of the hunt began blowing his hunting horn to try to regroup the dogs, but they would have none of it. Ear splitting baying, continuing blasts from the hunter horn and shrieks from humans erupted.
Observing the unexpected chaos on the ground, we tried to fly on and not interrupt the activity. But it was impossible to stop the pandemonium. Those of us in the basket of the balloon began laughing so hard at the totally unexpected sight that we couldn’t control ourselves. As the pilot, I had a hard time maintaining my focus, and I think we accidentally smacked into the ground a couple of times before I regained full control and flew far enough away to allow the hunt to continue. As we drifted on, we could still hear sounds of the hunt horn blaring, dogs baying and human voices yelling to try to refocus the hounds.
I’m not sure if the hunt (for a coyote, as I understand it) was successful. Our flight ended with a safe landing and we all had a great memory. I’m sure the fox (or coyote) hunters found it just as memorable. I’m almost certain that the coyote got away safely and thanked me for our intrusion.
I’m attaching a link to the organization, Juan Tomas Hounds, which I think organizes these fox (coyote) hunting events in New Mexico.
http://www.juantomashounds.com/
The thing I noted in the organization’s website is that coyotes are usually much faster than the dogs or horses that chase them and so I assume most of the critters get away safely. (I hope so). And in the end, fox hunting, New Mexico style, much like ballooning, is just a fun and unusual way to “get out there” with friends. Our two groups would probably have a great tailgate together. And it’s one more reason “Why I Love New Mexico.”
My father was a self educated man and became the well-respected editor and publisher of the Ruidoso News, a weekly newspaper he and my mother owned in the town where I was raised. He didn’t have a high school diploma until he obtained a GED late in his life. Yet, he possessed great writing skills, a savvy business acumen and a nose for a good story. (I’ll probably write more about him in later posts).
But on at least once occasion, his nose for a good story got a little too stuffed up to discern truth from fiction.
I was probably somewhere around 10 years old at the time when my father came home to tell me he had been approached by two men with a fantastic tale. They said they had discovered a giant rattlesnake in what is now the “Valley of the Fires” State Park and Bureau of Land Management recreation area just north of Carrizozo in Lincoln County. The area, also called “The Malpais” (Spanish for bandlands), is a lava flow that occurred about 5,000 years ago and left several thousand acres of twisted black rock on the northern edge of the Tularosa Basin. https://www.blm.gov/visit/valley-of-fires
The two men claimed they were hiking in the rugged area when they approached a depression in the rocks and spotted an 18-foot long rattlesnake. They told my father it had a head “as big as the steering wheel on a car” and when it raised its head and hissed at them, they could “feel the heat from its breath.” Although I can’t remember the details of how they said they killed the giant creature, they managed to skin it (sans its streering wheel-sized head) and brought it to my father’s newspaper office as proof of their claim.
My father recognized what he thought was sensational story and called the Albuquerque Associated Press and maybe the Albuquerque Journal to report it. Someone suggested they find a herpetologist who could verify the claim. In the meantime, he published his snake story as the banner headline on the front page of the Ruidoso News.
As I recall, someone from Albuquerque, probably from the University of New Mexico biology department, drove down to inspect the headless snake skin. After examining it for what I remember as being most of one afternoon, he made is pronouncement.
It was, he said, the skin of a common and not unusually large boa constrictor, probably purchased at someone’s garage sale or a roadside store dealing in tacky tourist souvenirs. It had lived its life in South American jungles before being caught and skinned and had a very distinctive pattern of scales, nothing like that of a rattlesnake.
My father, deflated at the loss of breaking what might have been the biggest story of his life, humbly admitted in the next week’s edition that he had been duped. I’m not sure whatever happened to the two guys who made up the story or their snake skin. I think they just slithered out of town, hoping to find another person who would swallow their story.
I looked in my “Why I Love New Mexico” file from five years ago to find this story out of Clovis.
A completely naked man was found standing in the middle of a busy Clovis street, ranting about the state of the world. A policeman with his body camera on stopped his cruiser and stepped out to try to persuade the man to move out of the street. The naked man seized the opportunity and jumped into the still idling police cruiser and streaked (yes, pun intended) off in the vehicle, leaving the dumbfounded policeman and body camera watching the car fade into the distance. The man eventually showed up at a local hospital where, hopefully, they put a gown on him that at least covered his frontal region.
I’m not sure what eventually happened to either the “streaker” or the police officer, but I can speculate. I’m sure the streaker was charged with resisting an officer, stealing a police vehicle and impersonating an officer without wearing a proper uniform (if there is such a crime). The officer, no doubt, was admonished for leaving his vehicle unattended but maybe given a medal for his role in removing a public eyesore.
A good friend of ours recently commented about the current sad state of affairs where just about everything we choose, do or say can be judged on some kind of constantly shifting political scale. As she pointed out in her sage observation about the turmoil, “soon the New Mexico Question ‘red or green’ will become politicized.”
For those of you readers not familiar with the odd things that happen in New Mexico, we are probably the only state in the nation that has an “official state question,” passed by the New Mexico Legislature and signed by the governor several years ago. The question, “red or green?” has to do with providing your waiter at a restaurant your choice of red or green chile on or in your enchiladas, burrito, tacos, chalupas, steak, pizza, tamales, huevos rancheros, etc.
And it’s not a question to be lightly regarded. Next time you’re in a Mexican restaurant anywhere in New Mexico, observe someone who has just been asked that question. You may be amazed at how much time it takes many of them to come up with an answer — which they often change immediately after making their initial decision. In fact, entire tables have been known to shut down while someone dithers for minutes over the proper response as they consider heat levels, location where the chile was grown, reputation of the restaurant for accurately evaluating what is “hot vs tasty” and observing what the guy at the next table has just been served.
So let’s reflect on the question and its political ramifications. At first, you might want to assume that if someone orders “red,” they’re likely to be Republican. But I know Democrats who order nothing but red. And is “green” a sign that someone is on the left edge of the ledger for their beliefs about environmental issues? Of course, chile turns from green to red over time — possibly signaling a slow movement to the right because of age? And how do you interpret someone ordering red chile enchiladas on blue corn tortillas? A blue dog Democrat? A Republican for Biden?
What about my Republican friend who uses green chile in some mushy concoction he calls posole? How wrong is that? Red only for posole, thank you. And how about those who insist that red goes only on one type of dish and green on everything else? A one issue voter?
Full confession — I’m actually one of those who has ironclad rules on what goes with what. Red chile should never, ever, be ordered in the morning for huevos rancheros, breakfast burritos or anything else breakfasty. I mean, what kind of conspiracy weirdo wants red chile on their huevos rancheros? In my opinion, you can only order red for lunch if it’s in a carne adovada burrito. Well okay, I have had red enchiladas for lunch but only because everything else on the menu was frightening or insipid sounding. Either green or red are okay on most anything after lunch and for dinner. And don’t get me started on corn or flour tortillas. I mean really, corn tortillas on huevos rancheros are just dumb — it’s just like having enchiladas but calling them something different. Flour only for huevos rancheros!!! And when my daughter in Austin, Texas, orders “breakfast tacos” (Texas-speak for expensive mini breakfast burritos), they can specify corn or flour tortillas. Honestly, Texans telling US how to make real Mexican food??? And then they introduce all sorts of snooty, trendy ingredients to try to make a simple burrito into haute cuisine!!! Just tell ’em to stick to canned chile — and they can’t even spell that right!!!
Well, as you can see, I have launched myself into a downward spiraling rage over a subject that clearly is not as important as those issues which have unfortunately turned friends against each other and politicized our view of the world. I certainly have my opinions on red, green, flour and corn and while I firmly believe that I am absolutely correct — maybe, just maybe, I shouldn’t be as judgmental and not get so wound up about these and other things. A good conversation over enchiladas between friends who listen and don’t taunt the other’s views might do us all a bit of good. And maybe have a sip of cold Corona beer to go with it. WHAT??? You like Dos Equis???!!!???
*For those out-of-staters, Christmas style is having both red and green chile in or on your favorite dish. I think it could be a sign that a person who choses this combination is a Libertarian. Or maybe they’re just wishy-washy. “:^)
This sheep, in a pen behind the historic Wortley Hotel in Lincoln, NM, has a guest on its back, which according to the owners of the hotel, spends a lot of time there. The chicken, which is one of several that provides eggs for guest breakfasts, apparently gets along fine with the sheep, which seems content with the arrangement as well. I guess you could call the combination a “sheepicken.”
The Wortley is an excellent base for a couple of days of exploring Lincoln County and historic old Lincoln, where outlaw Billy the Kid staged a shootout in a daring escape during the Lincoln County War. Unfortunately, it is temporarily closed because of the COVID-19 pandemic.
My wife Margo, our dog Chester, and I completed a day trip to the Gila Wilderness last week, with my goal to finally catch an elusive Gila trout on one of the streams where they have been re-introduced.
Thanks to very low water, failure to venture far enough up the stream and my dog’s need to investigate every hole before I could sneak up on it, I didn’t catch anything. I think I spotted a couple of very small Gila trout, which was encouraging.
But the trip was far from a failure. I renewed my appreciation of this first designated wilderness area in the United States and forced me to think about how much it is “on the edge.”
https://www.fs.usda.gov/recarea/gila/recarea/?recid=4826https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aldo_Leopold_Wilderness
Why is it “on the edge?” First, it’s one the very western edge of New Mexico, far away from population centers and largely forgotten by many in our state who have never ventured south of Socorro to that “drive-though” part of the state. It’s on the edge of catastrophic destruction from wildfire, thanks to climate change and already challenging meteorological, geographical and geological conditions. And for me, it’s “on the edge” of my ability to understand how such a complex eco-system exists in such an arid landscape.
It’s easy to love the wilderness areas with snow-capped mountains, lush meadows, lakes, roaring rivers and dense forests. At first glance for many, the Gila is probably not easy to love — too rugged, too dry, too far away, not enough big mountains, too few rivers, hardly any lakes and maybe just too ugly for some.
But if you take time to explore it, you’ll find it fascinating and spectacular in its own way.
I think the thing that amazes me most is the incredible contrast in the eco systems of the rugged slot canyons on the western side of the wilderness. Small streams wander though narrow solid rock walls towering hundreds of feet above you. In the bottom of the canyons is an unbelievable variety of lush vegetation, including giant sycamore and walnut trees, flowering bushes, vines and grasses. But if you glance up just a hundred feet above you, the canyon walls sprout cactus, yucca plants, stunted pinon trees and mesquite bushes better suited for a high desert landscape.
Our trip took us up Mineral Creek canyon, and I’ve included some photos. Some parts of the canyon make you fear a delicately balanced rock formation is about to fall on you. Other sections look like someone took a giant ice cream scoop and carved a trough through a layer of pumice and volcanic rock. Remnants of mining activity a century ago are everywhere — rusting pipe, iron anchors in the stream bed and canyon walls, slowly rotting timbers from a mine shaft or a mill. I’ve seen spectacular waterfalls tumble off the overhead cliffs following summer thunderstorms. I’ve encountered elk and other critters, thrashing through the underbrush. But I only occasionally see another human in these places.
Mineral Creek Canyon is very similar to nearby Whitewater Creek Canyon, which was my favorite place in the entire world for fishing and solitude until the 2012 Whitewater-Baldy Complex fire transmogrified it. The horrifying blaze destroyed the watershed and subsequent thunderstorm-induced flooding wiped out virtually every fish in the stream. The fire, the largest in New Mexico recorded history, burned 465 square miles of forest. At least, finally, native Gila Trout (I’ll post a blog on Gila Trout later) are being re-introduced to populate the stream, but I fear it will never be the same as when I discovered it more than 20 years ago. I remember noting in my fisherman’s log that day that I caught more fish in one day than I had ever caught in a single day before. All were tiny 6-8 inch hybrid Gila/Rainbow trout, feisty for their size, colorful and all were returned alive to the beautiful waters of that spectacular canyon.
I hope you’ll forgive my rambling. It does my soul good to go to places like the Gila, and I hope you’ll consider going there yourself and discovering why it’s such a significant and spectacular place. And I hope someday it won’t be “on the edge.”
P.S. There are many wonderful books written about the Gila, much more eloquent in their description of the country than I can do. And be sure to note the contributions of M.H. “Dutch” Salmon to preserving the mystique of the Gila. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M._H._Salmon
You’ve probably seen videos of the strange ice wheels that form in streams during colder months in northern climates. They spin slowly and mysteriously on top of the water, apparently formed by just the right combination of temperature, speed of the current and shape of the stream bank.
This morning, on our daily walk through the neighborhood and farmland surrounding our home, we found an unusual sight. It appears that the Rio Grande Irrigation District had been mowing weeds and grass along the Laguna Lateral which bisects our Mesilla Park neighborhood. As the grass and weeds fell into the ditch, they flowed with the current and through a culvert underneath McDowell Road. Just below the culvert, two eddies of water gathered up some of the weed and grass clippings and formed these two “weed wheels,” slowly spinning in the water.
There is a neighborhood Mexican restaurant/carryout in our neighborhood that is much beloved for many reasons. Their carne adovada burritos are tops, rolled tacos were once voted best in the city and their folded tacos come with double crunchy shells (probably to prevent them from dissolving from the ample grease — er, I meant juice that drips from the ground beef. (probably 60-40 at best). And of course, it’s pretty cheap.
Perhaps its most interesting culinary feature is the shredded cheese-like product sprinkled liberally on just about everything edible at the restaurant. Affectionately known as “mystery cheese” by the locals, it is heaped on tacos, rolled tacos, burritos etc. from a large metal pan at the end of the food assembly line. Yes, it’s yellow and kind of looks and tastes like cheese, but I question whether a cow was ever involved in its production. It does have some good melting properties, but so does shredded plastic. I still love it.
I won’t name the place for fear it will be “discovered” by trend-seeking outsiders, and more likely because they might take exception to some of my descriptions. But what they serve is extremely tasty (if not always healthy) and I’m sad to say that I haven’t been there is several months because of the COVID-19 situation.
Late last year, however, this humble eatery moved into the modern era with the announcement to customers that they now have their own wi-fi hotspot. The best part of that high-tech advancement is the password to gain access to the wireless network, as shown below:
aero-cordero.com