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.
