Desert to Desert

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Dimitri at Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

Good morning, Dimitri! Nice to see you here on your perch, and thanks for guarding the parlor of the Simpson Hotel from intruders overnight. When we got in last night, the table I sat at for writing on my previous visits was set for dinner as we were joining Deborah, Clayton, Gavin, and Richard for dinner to celebrate Richard’s birthday. While Dimitri wasn’t uninvited, he was nowhere to be seen, which was just as well, as there wouldn’t have been enough cake to go around.

Stuffed owl at Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona

This is not a writing trip but a respite from the task, which meant that we slept in, as much as remaining in bed until 6:00 a.m. can be considered sleeping in. By the time we emerged from our ablutions, Furry the Owl, a friend of Little Burrowing Owl who lives in a hole in a field on the outside of town next to their friends, the ground squirrels who live in a nearby mound, was surprised we hadn’t shown up earlier. We informed Furry that we’d been distracted by dreams that saw us looking to the clouds for the red-tailed hawk so we could warn everyone of its presence with chirping sounds. Or was all of that part of a dream? The more likely truth is that Clayton was the one surprised that he was downstairs in the kitchen well before my arrival in the parlor and then shared the song Little Burrowing Owl, from Mr. Elephant with us, which influenced this narrative and subsequently lodged itself in our ears like a worm for the duration of our adventure to stand under the shadow of the moon that promised to blot out the sun in two days.

South of Deming, New Mexico

A surprise road we’d not traveled previously became the route we’d journey on today as we were informed about a major freeway construction project on the west of El Paso, Texas, that we could bypass if we took this southerly trail. Prior to reaching this dusty stretch of highway, Caroline and I had traveled out of Duncan over to Silver City, New Mexico, to visit with old friends Tom and Sandy. The time spent out their way was brief, but we had to consider the two hours we’d lose today going east. This photo was taken about halfway between Deming and Columbus, New Mexico, on Highway 11, and as you might be able to guess from all the dust in the air, it was seriously windy out here in southern New Mexico.

Columbus, New Mexico

This is the oldest building in Columbus, New Mexico, dating from 1902. Operating as a train depot until 1960, when the line was closed with the track and ties sold off, it is now the local museum next to Highway 9, which used to be the route of the train.

Mexican border wall in southern New Mexico

That’s the infamous fence protecting us Americans from the invaders from Mexico who arrive to steal our jobs. While I’m mostly in agreement that people should take the proper steps to emigrate to the U.S., there are pathways for that to happen for those who are well-qualified and educated to bring skills to our country, but we have millions of dirty jobs that average American’s do not want, and this is where those less-fortunate souls to our south come in to take “all of our jobs.”

Art Car in southern New Mexico

We passed this art car at 80mph and whipped a quick U-turn to catch the guy before he pulled away. Weapons, ammunition, odds and ends, a couple of images of Greta Thunberg, mannequin parts, antlers, and assorted car parts made up this oddly balanced vehicle out here next to the Mexican border.

Prada Store in Marfa, Texas

It turns out that it’s been 22 years since Caroline and I last passed through this corner of Texas on a trip that took us through Valentine, Marfa, and Terlingua down to Big Bend National Park. This famous Prada Store art installation outside of Marfa didn’t show up until 2005, a few years after our visit.

The Holland Hotel in Alpine, Texas

The historic Holland Hotel here in Alpine, Texas, was built back in 1928 and was where we were checking in to spend the night. Of peculiar coincidence, Deborah and Clayton of the Simpson Hotel are also staying here this evening before continuing eastward to San Antonio, Texas, in the morning. They were a few hours behind us, which had us staying up writing and knitting before they arrived around midnight, as we didn’t want to lose the opportunity for this chance encounter with the proprietors of the Simpson so far away from home.

Looking for Star Light

JWise Photo of the Day, Travels

Mt Graham in the distance on the way to Duncan, Arizona

We are traveling in the general direction of where millions of others are going: to the eclipse. Months ago, when we snagged a motel room outside of the eclipse totality. We knew we’d be positioning ourselves a couple of hours north of where we wanted to be with the hope that the drive to our destination wouldn’t be a road of mayhem. The booking in Ozona, Texas, was hundreds of dollars cheaper than in the path of the totality, where we were seeing places that would have normally cost about $100 a night going for close to $1,000 for the evening of April 7th, 2024. Flights into the areas of the totality were also too pricey, so we are driving, which is what we were doing when I snapped this image of the setting sun. Once again, we are staying out at the Simpson Hotel in Duncan, Arizona, right near the New Mexico state line.

Chamula in the Desert

JWise Photo of the Day

Caroline Wise wearing wool pullover from Chamula, Mexico in Phoenix, Arizona

For the astute reader, looking closely at the photos I’ve posted so far this year, you might have noticed the poor quality of many of them; my apologies. Sometimes, I must take photos with my phone, and no, it is not a 2006 Potato Model. For the sake of preserving memories that remind us of our lives outside of routines, something must be posted on the blog. In my mind, it’s better than nothing, even if it does look like a potato capture.

By the way, the model in this shot is none other than Caroline Wise. She’s sporting a Balenciaga hand-embroidered faux-bear vest from the Chamula Collection. Perfect for winter wear on those sub-zero days in the desert. For the sake of transparency, the model wanted me to point out that she did not pay retail, which would have been the handsome price of $6400 in NYC, but instead snagged it at the Beverly Hills Goodwill on Rodeo Drive for the eye-meltingly low price of only $80.

Scent of Citrus

JWise Photo of the Day

Citrus blossoms in Phoenix, Arizona

If you are not so fortunate to live in a place where citrus is able to grow in abundance, you can’t know the incredible phenomenon of these last couple of weeks of March when the scent of citrus blossoms wafts upon the warmer air currents here in the Phoenix area. Over the course of the 29 years that we’ve been living here in the middle of Arizona, this smell is one of the greatest aspects that greets us every year. Most everyone who lives in the desert knows that our seasons are scorching-hellish-summer and not-summer, but for about two weeks the air is heaven scent.

Weaving a Transparency

JWise Photo of the Day

Caroline Wise at Weaving a Transparency workshop in Mesa, Arizona

If it’s Sunday, this must be Mesa, Arizona. For three days now, Caroline and I have been in the distant lands of this Mormon outpost of the East Valley, where she’s attending a fiber arts workshop to learn the craft of weaving a transparency. If you are wondering how one weaves a transparency, you obviously are unfamiliar with the seminal work of Hans Christian Andersen and his epic tome titled The Emperor’s New Clothes. As for the driver, I mean me, each day I took up a perch in different coffee shops that were all new to me: Hava Java, Pair Cupworks, and the last place called Renegade, where I was trapped for a couple of hours on a temporary island due to a water main break. As for Caroline’s project, I can’t tell you about it because I can’t see it.

Squatting

JWise Photo of the Day

Home being squatted in Phoenix, Arizona

Our neighborhood has a homeless problem that spills out in all directions. From encampments in front of restaurants, car washes, bus stops, behind grocery stores, and hidden away next to cinderblock walls sandwiched between a line of tall plants, the proliferation of homeless people has continued to grow since the end of the COVID lockdown. Ironically, I’d recently read that Atlanta, Georgia, leads the country with about 1,200 properties being squatted in by people who would otherwise be homeless. Well, a house in our neighborhood that was empty for almost two years has been taken over.

Home being squatted in Phoenix, Arizona

We suspected such for the past weeks, but it wasn’t until this morning, as we were walking by and seeing a locksmith parked in front, that we learned that it was, in fact, true: squatters had taken over the house. Earlier that day, the police had been called, and upon their arrival, the people camped inside ran and were allowed to flee as there’s really nothing law enforcement could do about the issue since it’s simply overwhelming. The locksmith told us that the owner was inside assessing the situation, and so I went and said hello. It turns out she inherited the place when her sister passed away, and she’s been too distraught to deal with selling the home, but now that it’s been defiled, it seems she’s changed her mind. After talking a bit, she invited us in to see the carnage for ourselves. A ton of drug paraphernalia was in the master bedroom; however, the kitchen and bathrooms were being cared for with cleaning supplies on hand, and fresh food was stored in the clean fridge. Interior doors appeared to have been punched in, there was some minor writing on the walls, and all of the belongings left behind hinted that at least four people had fled.

Home being squatted in Phoenix, Arizona

Though the owner paid to have the locks changed, she left the broken sliding door in the back to stay that way, with the hope that the transients would return to fetch their worldly possessions. They returned a few days later, but instead of grabbing their stuff, they moved right back in. I called to notify her, but she sounded defeated, and at the time I’m writing this, a couple of weeks later, they are still living rent-free under a roof, keeping them dry and hidden away while cooking up whatever it was in the burned piece of foil on the carpet.

Update: a month after posting this, an Uber driver I met in a coffee shop described this foil setup and shared what he learned from a passenger. This is called “Chasing the Blue,” and it involves placing a blue tablet of fentanyl on the foil, firing it from below, and sucking in the smoking fumes with a straw to get high. Now I know.