After traveling along the eastern edge of Colorado's High Plains and the panhandles of Oklahoma and Texas, Tom and I arrived in Tucumcari, New Mexico, once a major stopping point on historic Route 66. It also was once home to a railroad repair yard and was a thriving community.
The railroad yard is now gone. Travelers now take I-40 and, unless stopping for gas, a bite to eat, or overnight, pass by Tucumcari as if it doesn't exist. The once thriving downtown is in sad shape, virtually dead. Tucumcari's merchants who serve the local area are on the still-existing several mile strip, joining the motels that serve the travelers who stop there, and the restaurants that serve both travelers and the local population.
That strip contains an interesting mixture of a few modern chain motels, some refurbished motels dating back to the 1940s and '50s, and a few that remain pretty much in the original. Virgil Leopold tells me that he and his wife recently stayed at one of those remaining old motels, like going back in time.
It's mid-afternoon, too soon to call it a day. But it's always a good time to stop at one of my favorite eateries, the Pow Wow Inn on Tucumcari's touristy strip.
From Tucumcari to Las Cruces, the typical traveler takes I-40 west to Albuquerque, then I-25 south along the Rio Grande to Las Cruces. I prefer I-40 west only to Santa Rosa, then U.S. 54 south across open range country. Santa Rosa was another point on old Route 66. It somewhat resembles Tucumcari with motels and restaurants on its touristy strip. But its downtown is more thriving and prosperous looking.
From Santa Rosa, it's south on U.S. 54 across hilly range country. It runs past a small settlement called Pastura, with a few houses, some junky looking vehicles, and an abandoned railroad car. Pastura was once a watering spot for steam locomotives of the Southern Pacific. Its decline began when Route 66 passed it by. The replacement of steam locomotives with diesel sealed its fate.
The next town is Vaughn (population 469) with a several-mile long main drag with a mixture of restaurants, motels in various states of repair, a couple of gas stations, and a railroad depot that once was a thriving center of activity.
About 20 miles south of Vaughn is Duran (population 35). Not quite a ghost town, it once boasted over 300 residents, serving as a railroad repair site and a supply point for local ranchers. With abandonment of the rail yard and construction of I-25 as the major north-south route, Duran declined. A few abandoned buildings remind us of a prosperous past.
More miles of high range country bring us to the village of Corona, Spanish for Crown (population 165). Another 50 miles and we reach Carrizozo, (population 996) in Lincoln County where Billy the Kid attained notoriety in the Lincoln County Cattle War. In Carrizozo two of my old favorite haunts, sadly, no longer exist: The Outpost Bar and Grill served green chile cheeseburgers as good or better than the famous Owl Bar in San Antonio, New Mexico, the precursor of which was frequented in 1945 by the scientists of the Manhattan Project - and which contains the original elaborate wooden bar of hotelier Conrad Hilton's original establishment.
But I digress. The Outpost had a steady clientele. I'm surprised and disappointed that no enterprising soul took it over.
The other casualty of Carrizozo is the demise of Roy's Old Fashioned Ice Cream Parlor. Carrizozo isn't the same without the Outpost and Roy's Old Fashioned Ice Cream Parlor.
It's another 60 miles to Tularosa, and another 20 to Alamogordo. A bypass around Alamogordo now enables escape from Alamogordo's lengthy strip of fast food eateries and chains that are indistinguishable from what passes for "development" in anywhere, USA.
U.S. 54 goes from Alamogordo directly to El Paso, but we turn west on U.S. 70. Then it's past Holloman Air Force Base, and across the Tularosa Valley and White Sands Missile Range. That stretch is occasionally closed during periodic missile tests. Once across the valley, we reach the Organ Mountains, climb up and over San Augustine Pass (elevation 5,719 feet). Coming down the west side of the Organ Mountains is a spectacular view of the Mesilla Valley of the Rio Grande and the city of Las Cruces (Spanish for "The Crosses").
In addition to several personal matters, Tom and I visit several of my former colleagues and friends, Jim, Clyde and Willie. One evening Willie drives us down to La Mesa and my favorite Mexican food eatery, Chopes. We head south through giant groves of pecan trees and across the Rio Grande. Lest the reader be misled, we are still in New Mexico as the Rio Grande doesn't border Mexico until farther south where it takes a sharp turn to the southeast at the Paso Del Norte, now known as El Paso.
There are many fine Mexican restaurants in the Mesilla Valley, but Chopes is my favorite. It has been around forever, well, not quite, but for a long time. It remains unchanged except for an expansion to meet demand. In a separate building a few yards away is a bar, complete with worn out, shabby bus seats for seating in the chaotic decor.
The place is frequented by some "out-of-towners" but they are mostly folks taken there by locals or others who are in the know.
Most folks think New Mexico is always hot and scorching. Not true - it can be hot, but tonight it's cool for early June, almost chilly. After some Negro Modelo beer and a great Mexican dinner, we head back to Las Cruces, back across the Rio Grande and through the pecan groves, the trees creating an umbrella over the road in the night sky.
Soon it will be time to head north again.
Next week: Continuing on roads less traveled.
- John Waelti of Monroe can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net. His column appears Fridays in The Monroe Times.
The railroad yard is now gone. Travelers now take I-40 and, unless stopping for gas, a bite to eat, or overnight, pass by Tucumcari as if it doesn't exist. The once thriving downtown is in sad shape, virtually dead. Tucumcari's merchants who serve the local area are on the still-existing several mile strip, joining the motels that serve the travelers who stop there, and the restaurants that serve both travelers and the local population.
That strip contains an interesting mixture of a few modern chain motels, some refurbished motels dating back to the 1940s and '50s, and a few that remain pretty much in the original. Virgil Leopold tells me that he and his wife recently stayed at one of those remaining old motels, like going back in time.
It's mid-afternoon, too soon to call it a day. But it's always a good time to stop at one of my favorite eateries, the Pow Wow Inn on Tucumcari's touristy strip.
From Tucumcari to Las Cruces, the typical traveler takes I-40 west to Albuquerque, then I-25 south along the Rio Grande to Las Cruces. I prefer I-40 west only to Santa Rosa, then U.S. 54 south across open range country. Santa Rosa was another point on old Route 66. It somewhat resembles Tucumcari with motels and restaurants on its touristy strip. But its downtown is more thriving and prosperous looking.
From Santa Rosa, it's south on U.S. 54 across hilly range country. It runs past a small settlement called Pastura, with a few houses, some junky looking vehicles, and an abandoned railroad car. Pastura was once a watering spot for steam locomotives of the Southern Pacific. Its decline began when Route 66 passed it by. The replacement of steam locomotives with diesel sealed its fate.
The next town is Vaughn (population 469) with a several-mile long main drag with a mixture of restaurants, motels in various states of repair, a couple of gas stations, and a railroad depot that once was a thriving center of activity.
About 20 miles south of Vaughn is Duran (population 35). Not quite a ghost town, it once boasted over 300 residents, serving as a railroad repair site and a supply point for local ranchers. With abandonment of the rail yard and construction of I-25 as the major north-south route, Duran declined. A few abandoned buildings remind us of a prosperous past.
More miles of high range country bring us to the village of Corona, Spanish for Crown (population 165). Another 50 miles and we reach Carrizozo, (population 996) in Lincoln County where Billy the Kid attained notoriety in the Lincoln County Cattle War. In Carrizozo two of my old favorite haunts, sadly, no longer exist: The Outpost Bar and Grill served green chile cheeseburgers as good or better than the famous Owl Bar in San Antonio, New Mexico, the precursor of which was frequented in 1945 by the scientists of the Manhattan Project - and which contains the original elaborate wooden bar of hotelier Conrad Hilton's original establishment.
But I digress. The Outpost had a steady clientele. I'm surprised and disappointed that no enterprising soul took it over.
The other casualty of Carrizozo is the demise of Roy's Old Fashioned Ice Cream Parlor. Carrizozo isn't the same without the Outpost and Roy's Old Fashioned Ice Cream Parlor.
It's another 60 miles to Tularosa, and another 20 to Alamogordo. A bypass around Alamogordo now enables escape from Alamogordo's lengthy strip of fast food eateries and chains that are indistinguishable from what passes for "development" in anywhere, USA.
U.S. 54 goes from Alamogordo directly to El Paso, but we turn west on U.S. 70. Then it's past Holloman Air Force Base, and across the Tularosa Valley and White Sands Missile Range. That stretch is occasionally closed during periodic missile tests. Once across the valley, we reach the Organ Mountains, climb up and over San Augustine Pass (elevation 5,719 feet). Coming down the west side of the Organ Mountains is a spectacular view of the Mesilla Valley of the Rio Grande and the city of Las Cruces (Spanish for "The Crosses").
In addition to several personal matters, Tom and I visit several of my former colleagues and friends, Jim, Clyde and Willie. One evening Willie drives us down to La Mesa and my favorite Mexican food eatery, Chopes. We head south through giant groves of pecan trees and across the Rio Grande. Lest the reader be misled, we are still in New Mexico as the Rio Grande doesn't border Mexico until farther south where it takes a sharp turn to the southeast at the Paso Del Norte, now known as El Paso.
There are many fine Mexican restaurants in the Mesilla Valley, but Chopes is my favorite. It has been around forever, well, not quite, but for a long time. It remains unchanged except for an expansion to meet demand. In a separate building a few yards away is a bar, complete with worn out, shabby bus seats for seating in the chaotic decor.
The place is frequented by some "out-of-towners" but they are mostly folks taken there by locals or others who are in the know.
Most folks think New Mexico is always hot and scorching. Not true - it can be hot, but tonight it's cool for early June, almost chilly. After some Negro Modelo beer and a great Mexican dinner, we head back to Las Cruces, back across the Rio Grande and through the pecan groves, the trees creating an umbrella over the road in the night sky.
Soon it will be time to head north again.
Next week: Continuing on roads less traveled.
- John Waelti of Monroe can be reached at jjwaelti1@tds.net. His column appears Fridays in The Monroe Times.
