My mother in-law likes to explore. So do I, so this past weekend we loaded our families in my Denali and set out to waste some time doing...nothing. And we had one of the best weekends I can remember in a long time.
The first stop was Tularosa. My mother in-law was born there, and most of her familiy settled there many moons ago. That was back when you were born in your house and your first crib, if you were my mother in-law, was a shoebox. Her parents named her "Dolly" because she wasn't much bigger than a tiny baby doll.
This is where her Aunt Louise and Uncle Dewey lived, where, at one point or another, everyone in the family stopped by to break bread, pick up a jar of vegetables, spend an afternoon, or spend the night. My mother in-law is pointing to the house where her cousin lived, and where he died.
Aunt Louise's house has been abandoned for over a decade, and now there's a For Sale sign in the front yard. You can have it for the back taxes that are owed on it. My girls thought the house was on some kind of playground, and they followed Nana the entire time. She told them stories, and they hung on every word.
My father in-law has a lifetime of memories in this house, too.
My baby, McKenna. Her smile melts me.
Aunt Louise had a giant garden and canned everything she grew. No telling what she had in this jar.
Christmas lights, hung with care many years ago.
We headed north to Carrizozo. At the top of our list of "nothing" we were going to do that day was eat at The Outpost. We were heartbroken to find out that Miguel, who has owned and operated this deliciously famous burger joint for dozens of years, died a couple of months ago. His wife was too grief-stricken to keep it going. Wanna buy a legend?
From there, we kept on to Ancho. My husband's great grandparents owned several sections of land there long ago, and my husband's grandfather (for whom Stevie is named) went to first grade there.
Yes, our family is weird. We love to traipse through graveyards looking at days gone by.
The Ancho Cemetary is also where my stepdad is buried. He died when I was in high school.
On the way to see his grave, I noticed his father had died last year. He was 83.
A cemetary is a great location for a photo op, right?
After awhile, my girls were starting to get restless. Like the weather.
But they were good sports, and smiled even though their mother had just taken them on a stroll through a graveyard right before torrential rain hit the high desert.
We headed back south towards White Oaks. I noticed the road to my stepdad's ranch has a new sign just off the highway, named for his family.
This is the old sign. It's been there for at least 30 years, maybe more. It says "T.A. Knight, 1 mi."
We couldn't have picked a better day for a road trip. The skies were heavy with rain, and it smelled as beautiful as it looked.
Our first stop in White Oaks: the Miner's Home Museum and Miner's Toolshed Museum. The doors are open all day, every day and it's free to the public.
Here's a peek inside, where they have replicated what life would have been like in a typical miner's home back in the late 1800s when White Oaks was booming with gold and silver mines. This is the kitchen.
Inside a little girl's bedroom.
Can you see what's on this writing desk? I can still smell my Big Chief writing tablet from 2nd grade.
Homegirl here gave me the creeps. To future historians and museum curators: mannequins belong in department stores. Period.
When you walk inside the museum, the walls are lined with old photos and plat surveys of Lincoln County. Kenny liked tracing the old roads, and looking at the faces of people who, on blind faith, came here in search of a rich life.
This is what you see when you drive into White Oaks.
Stevie needed to use the little girls' room, but changed her mind once Poppa showed her where it was.
I love windows. This is looking into the kitchen I showed you earlier.
Here it is closer. Can you see Stevie in the reflection? She still has to pee.
Out back is a shed full of old mining tools. The cattle wire is there so you don't accidentally end up with something in your pocket, not that it ever crossed my mind.
I told you we were weird. This is Cedarvale, the cemetary in White Oaks that is the final resting place of several notable people in Lincoln County history. Susan MacSween is buried there, as is the first governor of New Mexico, and James Bell, the Lincoln County sheriff's deputy who was more famous dead than he was alive, thanks to a fatal bullet fired from the gun of Billy the Kid.
Cedarvale is also where Dena Lynn Gore is buried. She was the 9 year-old girl whose murder changed the capital punishment laws in New Mexico. Terry Clark was executed for her murder. I told you we were weird, but you learned something just now, didn't you?
Our last stop was the No Scum Allowed Saloon, also for sale for the low price of $500,000.00, which includes the liquor license and all the cool stuff inside. It's a steal, too. Who wants to move to White Oaks with me? Who has half a million dollars I can borrow?
Inside the salloon the walls are covered in license plates. The ceiling is covered in one-dollar bills, enscripted by the people who left them there. I want you to know it's driving me nuts that I can't change the orientation of this photo. It should be landscape. Grr.
This is my baby and her Poppa.
This is my baby and her jackass boyfriend, who was covered in disco ball mirrors. I told you we were weird.
