Back to New Mexico

From the Canyon of the Ancients at Hovenweep, I rode back into New Mexico along Highway 149 through Cortez to find a campground.  My first stop was at Shiprock; but forget it, there are no campgrounds in Shiprock - only that big volcanic rock (in geologic terms fractured volcanic breccia called "minette") from which the town takes its name.  The next closest town was Farmington, 23 miles to the east; and although, it was not the direction of choice, it was getting late and surely Farmington would have a campground.

BINGO!  It was well past 9:00, but Mom & Pop's RV came to the rescue - and only $7.50 a night for a campsite.

Besides having great a price, Pop (as he prefers to be called) is a congenial and helpful host who offers a guide places visit in the Farmington Area.  His top choice was The Bolack Museum of Fish and Wildlife.


Pop offered that, "Tom Bolack has a fantastic collection of wild animals that he collected over many years of big game hunting and fishing experiences - and it's FREE!"

Although, I have never hunted (except with a camera in Africa), the museum was less than a mile from "Mom and Pop's RV," so why not check it out.

For me, it was a, love-hate relationship; while admired all of the beautiful mounts, I couldn't help but abhor seeing all these magnificent beasts of the wild killed for the "sport" of it - only to support one mans vanity.

His collection is little short of fantastic; and even included the skeletal head and tusks of a wholly mammoth.  Among his 2500 mounts it seemed as if he had killed all most every conceivable creature known to man - elephant, rhinoceros, lions, leopards, tigers, zebras, giraffe, wildebeest, rare black leopards (there were two) and bear of all kinds  including: grizzly, black, brown, polar and Kodiak - to name but a few.


Tom Bolack was (he died in 1998) without a doubt a great conservationist as most hunters are; but it is so much more difficult (and more sportsman like) to take a great photograph than it is to make a great shot - and nothing and no one suffers as result.


I realize that this is a very controversial issue and that many of you many of you may be avid hunters yourselves; but I will continue (as I always have) to support your right hunt, and only hope that in return you will respect my right to have a differing opinion.

Upon returning to the campground, I had to stop to admire Pop's model train (Extraordinaire), model boat and his collection of hundreds of cast lead alloy miniature's he has cast and meticulously hand painted.   He (quite literally) had a hand, in almost everything in his collection.

The mention of lead alloy "raised my eyebrows;" and so, I asked him about the commonly held fear of lead poisoning.  His comment was - "I could swallow it and it would just flush out the other end."  Fired up now, he continued (to the effect) that, "the EPA has everyone so buffaloed with all there gibberish - I wish they would just disband the whole organization."  

Although, I often disagree with some of the EPA/FDA positions myself, but I strongly support their missions.  Like many others, I question how "in-bed" they are with the drug  and the major food processing companies (especially in light of the fact that many former congressmen and women end up working as paid lobbyists).

Pop's model train is not working, at this time, and perhaps it will never run again.  It is uncovered, which is surprising in light of his obvious extensive amount of time and money invested in its development.  As Pops' so apply put it, "If I had known that it was going to get this out of hand, I would have put a roof over it!"

Before leaving New Mexico, I had one more mission - the ruins of Chaco Canyon.  The Chaco Canyon National Monument was just a short 75 miles south of Farmington - too close to just pass it up?

Getting to Chaco, however, was not the easy task that it was assumed to be.  It was an easy ride for the first 59 miles; but then, the road turned to a "washboard" composition of gravel and sand.  I continued on, determined to make it through the 14 miles of sand and gravel that lay ahead.

Did you ever ride a motorcycle in sand?  "It ain't fun."  After about three miles, traveling at about ten miles an hour and dodging the sand as best possible; I abandon my pursuit, only after nearly dumping my Harley twice.

When I stopped the tire was buried in almost three inches of sand; the question was - "would the road continue to get sandier (as it appeared to be doing) or would the sand just amazingly disappear?"  The latter prospect seemed unlikely, and so, I pushed the bike out of the sand and parked it to the side of the road (well, kind of - sort of to the side of the road) and stuck out my thumb.

About 5-10 minutes passed, as did four or five vehicles, seemingly unconcerned for my quagmire (I forgave them; after all, how were they to know that I was not - "Jack-the-Ripper" and the camera I "wielded" was not a bludgeon?).

Fortunately, my day was saved a great American - a great Native American.

Theresa, from Berkeley, California, was on vacation herself and exploring her heritage along the way.

After helping to setting up her tent in the Chaco Canyon campground, we share the day together, enjoying each others companionship and "treasures" of Chaco Canyon.

Every site of Indian ruins is unique, and the Chaco Canyon Ruins are no exception.  It features one of the largest kivas in the Ancestral Pueblo world and one of the most grandiose of pueblo ruins the Pueblo Bonito; yet, the mystery remains of why they would chose such a beautiful, but inhospitable place - A place without a reliable water supply and forbidding heat to contend with.

Later that day she drove me back the ten miles to where my Harley (fortunately) was still parked.  I thanked her, and secretly "kicked" myself for depending too heavily on my credit card; with only $3.00 in cash I could even offer to pay her for her trouble (and gas).  She likely would not have accepted it anyway, but would have liked to have been able to afford her that option.  Thanks again, Theresa, for everything.