Thursday, August 16th
We got a fairy early start from the Cibola National Forest, somewhere between McGaffney and Fort Wingate. A few miles down I-40, we ventured into Grants to explore a bit more of the Historic Route 66. After I-40 by-passed the small town, Grants was not kept up quite like Williams, so we made our way down Main Street until it crossed the interstate again and took us to the interagency Visitors’ Center. The helpful Park Service and Forest Service rangers directed us to the local coffee shop as well as to take a more scenic route to Roswell than the one we had originally charted. Before setting off for the land of the alien encounters, we enjoyed coffee and muffins at Cocoa Beans Café and left our mark on the map there as the first customers from both Talkeetna and Tallahassee.
Getting into southern New Mexico, highway 380 brought us to the edge of the White Sands Missile Range, the location of the Trinity Site, the site of the first atomic detonation by the United States. We hoped that we could check out some of our nation’s nuclear history, but the security guard at the gate politely notified us that it was a secured military installation and we certainly were not welcome beyond the gate. Passing White Sands, we stopped for a quick lunch at a “roadside table” before hitting the road again. Unfortunately, this time the road hit back, and we suffered a flat tire. Not just any flat tire, but approximately a half inch gash that left air gushing out the tread. Before we lost too much, we jumped back in and milked the Pilot into the parking lot of the Capitan Municipal High School to switch it out. Our goal was to be back on the road before school got out for the day, but we weren’t that quick, and we became our own sort of tourist attraction for the juniors and seniors who were driving home.
We rolled into Roswell significantly later than planned, arriving at the International UFO Museum and Research Center with only twenty minutes left until closing. While we didn’t have time to read all of the newspaper clippings, letters, and other information in the exhibit, we still learned a lot about the “Roswell Incident” and close encounters of the first, second, and third kinds. Perhaps the best part of our visit there was when a fog machine came on, filling the center room with a cloud while the flying saucer started spinning and the aliens started communicating(?).
After the museum closed, there was not a lot to do in Roswell, according to both the museum attendant who suggested going to the local cinema and to the gift shop clerk/novelist/alien enthusiast who suggested checking out the town library. So, we got out of there faster than the little green guys back in 1947 (or faster than the military cover-up, if you choose to believe that chain of events). Back on Highway 380 East, we crossed the border into Texas and started scoping out a place to throw up our tent for the night. Our search led us to the Glenn Howell Park in Brownfield, where we were able to make a delicious pasta dinner, watch the stars, and sleep by the peaceful lake.
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