Back to Texas... But Not For Long

New Mexico 

We crossed into New Mexico in the warmth of mid October, inching closer to our winter home, Bosque Del Apache National Wildlife Refuge.  We watched the US Border Patrol float quietly above the warm desert and mountains - in an unmanned blimp drone.

We parked in the Deming, NM Walmart parking lot - one of three RVs seeking refuge on the asphalt campground that night.  Compared to other Walmart's we'd stayed at, it was relatively quiet but we still heard traffic noise all night long.  Walmart lots offer a free overnight stay option on those days that we just need to stop and sleep.  Otherwise, we prefer city, county or state parks as our stopping points.

The next day we decided it was still too early to arrive at the refuge, as we were not expected until October 26th.  Instead, we decided to go to El Paso, Texas.

Rio Grande River isn't very grand after use for irrigation

Haze and smog from the cities

Texas. Again.

Returning to Texas allowed us to do two things.  First, we'd be able to find someone to work on the Jeep, which needed the front end rebuilt to rid it of the "wobble of death" we'd been experiencing since buying it.  Second, Kathy had reconnected with her favorite high school band director, and mentor, on Facebook who now lived and taught in El Paso.  She hadn't seen him since 10th grade! He knew we were headed to town and arrangements were made to visit over dinner.

We decided to stay a few days and located Arvey Park,

Our ride for a few days

an Escapees park on the outskirts of town. Escapees is an RV club that offers many benefits, including discounted stays at affiliated parks.  We paid $15.00 a night which was a steal, even if the park  was run down and occupied by full timers, almost like a mobile home park.  This one was nothing fancy but very practical.  

After researching automotive repair reviews, we found Jerry's Automotive and spoke to Jerry, who actually understood what "death wobble" was.  He said they had just rebuilt his son's Jeep for the same problem and were very successful.  When we told him we lived in the RV and that the Jeep was our only mode of transportation while in town, he offered to lend us a car, for free, while we waited for the Jeep to be repaired.

After completing the paperwork, Jerry walked us out of the shop and towards our ride for the next few days - a vintage 1988-ish 4-door sedan that reminded us both of our high school days.  The car was relatively clean and ran like a charm.  We drove it up to Fort Bliss and through Franklin Pass towards the Franklin Mountain State Park.  The park sits above the city and has great hiking trails if you are well prepared for the desert heat, even in the late fall.  The view of the city as well as Ciudad Juarez is spectacular from the mountain.  

While at the park, Jerry called with an estimate and we were approved for a 1 year interest free credit card to allow us to pay for the repairs.  Things continued to go well for us and we were grateful.  We returned to the RV to walk the dogs and then headed north again through rush hour traffic.  Traffic patterns of those going home after work have a certain rhythm. Revving engines and tired frustrated drivers are typically not a good mix. It was some of the worst traffic we'd driven in since hitting the road.  We refused to participate in the surrounding insanity and simply let the mania around us occur as we drifted with the flow.    

We met Mr. Quintanilla, Kathy's high school band teacher, for Mexican food.  Mr. Q had quite a story about his life after leaving Killeen High School.  We found out he had applied and was accepted into a PhD program at the University of North Texas.  At the time, his only mode of transportation was a motorcycle.  He left early in the morning on his way to the final interview, hit a deer and sustained substantial injuries.  After months of recovery, he never reconnected with the university and the opportunity was gone.  In response, he recommitted himself to high school music programs - eventually making his way to El Paso.  Our dinner meeting was too short and ended with an invitation to watch Mr. Q's current marching band practice the next morning.  Sadly, we declined as we were heading back out on the road the next day.

After picking up the Jeep the next morning and returning our hoochy ride, we we headed north back into New Mexico on the eastern side of the Franklin Mountains through Fort Bliss.  The area is very active with war games and we watched them along the highway for miles as we traveled to our winter home.

Back Through BC

Hwy 16 eastward from the Cassiar Hwy quickly gave indication that we were back in civilization by forcing us to share the road with speeders, semi-trucks, and unfriendly drivers.  Fortunately, the highway slowly evolved into farmland slopes, rivers with salmon and bear and humans fishing for those salmon. We never realized how much fishing is available in BC so far inland.

Trucks hauling timber to lumber mills is the number one source of the BC economy, with mining being a close second.  Communities appeared to support each other as Mennonite church members stood with striking school teachers.  Many small BC communities still hadn't gone back to school in mid September because of the teacher strike.   The small farms and ranches were preparing for winter as farmers covered hay bales and removed crops from their fields.

Our journey northward and now southward had been guided by the popular reference guide, The Milepost.  However, this book failed to represent hwy 16 adequately.  We looked for rest areas, as they were not cited in the book.  The kilometer posts were not numbered in alignment with real signposts and even the craziest math didn't help us figure out where the hell we were.  The book also excluded the native villages along the route entirely.

The highway itself is in good to excellent shape - especially when compared to the widened goat trails of the Yukon, but compared to roads of the US we still found them lacking basic amenities that would help us and others.  Often, there were no signs indicating rest areas or turn outs until we were on top of them.  Don't know if you've ever tried to stop a 31 ft fully loaded motor home towing a Jeep on a dime - but trust us, it doesn't happen.  

Being back in farmland made the drive somewhat boring without mountain views but it had been a while since we had seen horses, cattle, sheep, lamas, goats, and pigs so we enjoyed seeing familiar mammals again. As we drove east, the mountains disappeared from our line of sight several times but the calm lakes and streams allowed for some good photo opportunities.  Some communities had local radios and tv stations but we opted to listen to free Sirius XM radio during their fall promotion.  As we neared Prince George, the road widened and traffic increased.  City buses and traffic lights, a casino and a health food store told us that this was almost a real "city."  We turned south onto the Caribou highway just before crossing the city limits.

We looked for the community called Cinema, a location with a store and free camping.  Somehow we missed it and ended up at Canyon Creek RV park.  The park's beautiful setting, friendly owners, and a nature trail were nice but the facilities were old and the noise from the highway was constant.

We departed late the next day and got on the road to find groceries in Quesnel.  After driving in circles around downtown trying to find a store whose parking lot was large enough for us, we settled on a store near Wal-mart.  We used our own shopping bags was our cart in the store and this apparently became an issue during checkout as we had used our own shopping bag instead of a cart. The crotchety cashier was not certain we had emptied our bag and insisted on looking in both bags twice to ensure we had emptied them.  Accused of shoplifting by a rude Canadian!  Did we really look like we were trying to steal a block of cheese?  By this time we had had our fill of Canada and couldn't wait to get back to the good ol' US of A - faults and all.

A little farther down the road we stopped at Gold Trail RV park.  It advertised itself as an Escapees Club resort but trust us, this was no resort!  When Joy confronted the manager about the condition of the restroom and the fact that the campground was not currently an Escapees Club, he was rude and actually sexually harassed her by calling her a bitch.  He justified his behavior as only joking but is an absolute moron! He provided yet another reason we aren't too fond of our neighbors to the north.  Luckily, this would be our last night in Canada and we were looking forward to crossing into Washington and seeing friends and family.