The idea to go to Roswell, New Mexico was definitely mine; all mine. The 1947 crash town is a place I have always wanted to visit. Since the round-trip distance was around 1200 miles, we were looking at a 3-day excursion. Narul's first 3 consecutive days off from his real job fell in line with the travel plan; fate was speaking to us.
Travelling north on the front leg of the journey, we would come within 6 miles of meteor crater- so we decided that we were meant to see it, too. Wow. Talk about leaving a strong first impression; my personal shock value is minuscule compared to the ground spank of that particular rock.
As sunglasses changed to headlights, we decided to go child-hunting in Belen. Then as evening became midnight, it was clear that we would not make it to the town of crashed weather balloons until 3 am. Driving the last 100 miles alone on a 2-lane road was a classic storybook entrance, as well.
The overnight guy at the Super 8 motel knew how to do business with overnight people, so Super 8 was the lucky fondler of Static's plastic. After a late snack at Irene's Denny's, (the "no U-turn" signs are just a suggestion) we partook a swim and jacuzzi. Nice. I see the sunrise more often than I don't, but on Friday morning I watched it with both narul and the rifter. After a summer-camp type of giggle-fest in separate beds ("Don't worry about me."), Static and I settled in and slept to TPG's "alien" snoring in Roswell.
Friday had a late start (staying up 'til 7 am will do that), but we headed for the museum. The International UFO museum and Research Center in Roswell, New Mexico is...free. Free? We paid $10 a head to look at a hole in the ground the day before, but proof of alien existence is free? Okay. (Was that a "no U-turn" sign?) Later on, come back and link up to the UFO Museum
This comprehensive museum is more than just entertainment; it's the real deal. The truth is in there on the walls, baby. Old, post-crash documents (released through the FOIA) state that the goals of these EBE's, and the mechanics of their spacecraft are 'totally unknown to us'. (That's a few steps away from 'there are no aliens', huh?) I'd like to take all the non-believers to this place; but then again, I proved years ago that dumbasses only see what dumbasses want to see. So just keep on believing that humans are the top of the food chain, okay?
To the official gift shop...fridge magnets, light-up frisbees, and alien-head candles; very cool. I decided that the purple "far out" boxers (with scattered EBE's) would go well with my new Roswell coffee mug. Stirred a bit by the whole experience, we left downtown feeling extremely drained. "That was not a U-turn. That was merely a double left. Here; I'll show you a damn U-turn."
I don't remember much about the hours from 5 to 8 pm. I guess it can be chalked up to lost time (and mental U- turns). Somebody was snoring.
You know how stories about Roswell always have a place in them where the author says 'okay, here's where it gets weird'? Well, this is where it gets...oh never mind. Armed with over $200 cash, and more credit cards than responsible tourists should ever have, the 3 of us went out in search of night-life in Roswell. This is when we made a discovery; a discovery of absence: there are NO bars in Roswell, New Mexico. We drove around for an hour, and wound up drinking 2 beers in a hotel lounge; pathetic. Narul, Static and I will run a Sportsbar in crash town if somebody wants to bankroll it. I'm just planting seeds.
Not by choice, but we went to bed early and sober. On Saturday, we left before noon. We could not go to the crash site--because of time constraints, so we moved ahead to later action. The Space Museum in Alamogordo was very informative, and later we found a Georgia girl (from Jefferson) at a Mickey D's in west New Mexico.
After food, I got tired. It's hard to take naps while you're driving, but I tried. And I tried again. Poor Static girl. I did wake up with some loud Peter Gabriel though, and found myself passing cops and going 85 mph . Speed limit signs are just a suggestion, too. Right?
We were
back in the land of the Suns by 9 pm.; plenty early to unpack and go
drinking (in a real live bar). It's all about priorities. My work here is
done.
Let the record show that I am already planning the next trip--to somewhere
near Area 51 (Rachel, or Indian Springs, Nevada) where alcohol use is
invited and encouraged.