Of Cheeseburgers and Properties

Oh, my, another weekend, another 600 miles. We need to get moved............

Our house has been on the market about 40 days with over 30 showings. I wish some of these people would open up the checkbook already!!!!! It's nice to get a lot of positive feed-back but I'd really rather have a signed contract.

Yesterday we went to Estancia, this time we met a realtor, to check out the 2 houses on 20 acres. Now the property is on the side of a hill, which makes for some great views:

There are wonderful outbuildings---a marvelous barn and a separate tack room/horse stall that would make an ideal kennel as well. Problem is that the houses are too close to the property line and the outbuildings are in better shape than the houses. One is definitely cognizant of being in a 15 year old or so double wide. I've seen manufactured houses and mobiles that are very nice. We considered one in NH before we found the Podunk place. These two are very spacious (one has 4 bedrooms, two and a half baths, formal dining room, a breakfast nook and 2 fireplaces!!!) but all in all, you're in an older trailer. Afraid I just can't do that. So hopefully we get an offer this week and can go buy the Pecos place next weekend.

Now about them burgers----as you can tell from my new profile photo on this blog, as well as the photo on Facebook, I love green chile cheese burgers. I study them. I'd drive miles for one. I'm always willing to try out a new source of one of these culinary fiestas. So when I saw that a place in Santa Fe called Bobcat Bite had won awards for its green chile cheeseburger, I had to go there. Now I'll say this---it's the largest of the good samples I've tasted. But I'm afraid I can't rate it higher than number 3, behind The Owl and The Buckhorn in San Antonio, NM. The Owl is the gold standard---home-made patties, dare I say poignant green chile, and a wonderful atmosphere. The Bite has a friendly staff, an old adobe building, and seats only 26 so there's frequently a line at the door. But the burger just doesn't stand with The Owl. But after we move to Pecos, I'm sure I'll frequent Bobcat Bite when the craving for one of my favorite foods assaults me if for no other reason than The Owl is 100 miles away.

Driving 580 Miles for a Burger

All right, so even in "Nuevo Mehico" gasoline is approaching $4.00 a gallon. Who cares?? Not the 3 Pirate Dogs!!!!!!! They convinced their dad, mom, and auntie to load them into the vehicle and trek about halfway across the 5th largest state for a HAMBURGER. Not just any hamburger but a green chile cheeseburger from the Owl Cafe, home of arguably the best burgers in the WORLD!!!

We used to live about 100 miles from the Owl so a quick run up the Interstate was nothing. To taste the green chile cheese fries, enjoy a cold Bud, and eat a couple of those burgers was so satisfying. And to be able to just do it on a moment's notice was wonderful. Now we live half a state away----yesterday was a 580 mile round trip---si, a little planning is required. But it's the trip as well as the culinary orgasm.

Leave the flat plain of "West Texas" to encounter the foothills of one of the few mountain ranges that run east-west (the Capitans). Be alert and ready with the brakes. Off to the right a herd of pronghorn antelope graze. A few miles further and there are some of the largest longhorn cattle not yet in the feedlot. As the sign for the Roswell UFO Crash site (no trespassing, call some limo company) approaches, a paisano runs across the road with "is that a snake or a lizard?" in its beak. A few miles later another roadrunner crosses, this one still searching for its meal.

Cross the mountains. The pass is only 6900 feet on this route. But the land has changed. Scruffy trees, maybe oaks, shelter a few head of cattle. The highway allows a view of hawks from above as it proceeds in switchbacks up the mountain. Then there is the first sighting of the Tularosa Basin stretching for miles north-south and to the west we spy the the next mountains to cross.

The land has morphed into black lava flows as the car ascends into the Malpais. One more hill----and the high desert reveals itself--the "Jornada del Muerto." A fitting name for the land that was scarred by the Trinity blast in 1945. There's the turn for Stallion Gate.

It's been a long ride but that sign means the Rio Grande, El Camino Real, and the Owl are only about half an hour away. Another hill and the river valley, almost obscenely green against the adobe colored sand and mountains beyond, appears. Cross the Rio, muddy, fairly high (the dams upstream must be open). There's the sign with the nocturnal bird, our destination.

Of course the pirates can't go in, not a seeing eye dog among them, but there's a shady parking place. The humans gorge themselves on the wonderful fare. The pirates get a hamburger of their own for their patience. A quick turn on the leash for relief and renewal and it's time for the trek east.