Disclaimer: This post was updated in November 2022, as the original only included 1 photo. The bigger details were written back then, although a few things needed to be figured out.

Wow, I was wrong about where we were going to be last night! We ended up at the Sands Motel in Portales, New Mexico. From there, it was only 90 miles over to the Nuthin Fancy Cafe in Roswell, New Mexico, for breakfast. If you think my mother-in-law had any interest in visiting the world-famous UFO Museum and Research Center, you’d be nuts; this lady came out of having survived World War II in Germany and could give 2 cents of concern about some crazy idea that a UFO landed nearby. Yeah, I thought the same thing, “Your loss old lady.”

We made our way to Carlsbad Caverns National Park instead because in America’s natural wonders, Jutta has a big interest.

Oh, look, it’s the Cave Door Greeter, kind of like the human equivalent at Walmart or Costco.

After selling my mother-in-law on how great the slow trail through the Natural Entrance to the Big Room is, she agreed to go for a little walk.

Caroline and I have already visited Carlsbad Caverns on three previous visits in 1998, 1999, and 2002; I hadn’t anticipated that I’d still be able to appreciate it as much as I am.

There’s one thing missing as Jutta and I make our way into the cave: the chatter of her and Caroline nattering on in German about what they are looking at.

There are eight more images from inside the cave following this one; you can rest assured that I feel like deleting all of them and cutting to the juicy bits that will follow later in the evening.

But I love these photos, even if they are only 8 megapixels each.

These contrasting colors and various rock types, many of them coated in the frozen minerals leached out of the surrounding earth, make for striking images and are on a scale that makes one feel like the puny little human one is.

There are three other visitable caves nearby, including Lower Cave, Hall of the White Giant, and Slaughter Canyon Cave, that we’ve yet to visit. I think we need to better plan our spontaneous trips.

Just imagine what these might have looked like when water was flowing over them. Over at nearby Lechuguilla Cave, one might see it (if they are a scientist and can wait years for permission after convincing the park service that their research is worthy and they have the requisite skills for serious caving).

Of course, one could visit Kartchner Caverns in Benson, Arizona, to see a living cave system, but with their no-photography rules I fail to understand the attraction fully. I need photos, or we were never there.

We actually have been to Kartchner because when I bought tickets they didn’t tell me ahead of time that photography wasn’t allowed. I can’t even remember what I saw as my jaw was clenched down so tightly that it apparently obscured my vision and erased my memory. Now consider this view of yet another psychedelic chamber: I know I was here, right here at the spot where this photo was taken, and that makes this place sit in my memories for years, and if ever I need a reminder, I just look back to these days and revel in the experiences we’ve been able to obtain.

[Or could it be that you have no memory of Kartchner because the cave tour itself felt very short, the bats were off lounging in Mexico, and the seeming majority of our visit was spent looking at some light show accompanied by new-agey music? – Caroline]

No tripod, handheld, not the best ISO, and still, I managed to snap off three portrait images of this giant cascade to stitch into a panorama.

Those are soda straw formations and represent the end of our self-guided tour of Carlsbad, well, the caverns anyway; there’s more to come above ground.

At dusk, you might be so lucky, depending on the time of year, that you too can witness the Bat Flyout. My mother-in-law had one word to describe this phenomenon, “Sagenhaft,” which translates to fabulous or amazing.

Sadly, the bats missed this cockroach, probably because it and a bevy of its friends were camping out in what can easily be described as the worst room ever in any of the cheap motels we’ve sunk to staying in.

This one, though, will not be stayed in. It took everything in my power to remain in this room to take these photos.

So disgusting it was I didn’t even bother to haggle about a refund; I simply wanted my mother-in-law and me to put as many miles between us and this shithole as quickly as possible. Sadly, this was the only motel in Las Cruces that had availability, which meant that though it was approaching midnight, we’d have to tough it out for another hour until we reached Deming, New Mexico, with fingers crossed we’d find a room

While it might be difficult to make out, I believe this is the outline of a dead body and the single greatest contributing factor as to why this room smells something worse than hell.

I’m still trying to figure out what happened to the curtains.

This was that place of nope, the Town House Motel in Las Cruces, New Mexico. Seriously, nothing compares to this in all of our travels.