New Mexico - primera parte

Recently, someone close to me asked if I ever get lonely living on the road so very far from friends and family. I gave this question serious thought as I didn’t want to just dash off an answer to reassure or even worse, make myself seem different than I am. My answer, though, was rarely. Very rarely.

This lifestyle is not for all personality types. There are, of course, full time travelers and car dwellers who are able to find groups and meetups and places where socialization is the goal. But, for the vast portion of us, we are solitary creatures by habit and well suited to streams of days or even months talking only to ourselves.

As someone with sensory processing sensitivity (yeah – big surprise…I am a highly sensitive person), even being around those I love drains me quickly in all the ways. Stimuli overwhelms and as is the case with most highly sensitive people, the moods and behaviors of others affect me more than non HSPs.

Kind of makes sense that I like spending my days alone, off the beaten path, surrounded by nature, and as far away from human-made anything as I can get.  

Increasingly, the world doesn’t have a lot of space or patience for us sensitive types. Add to my sensitivity a generous dollop of seasonal depression and one begins to better understand my desire to float on to less-populated and sunnier pastures.

When I began researching the sunniest places in the U.S., Santa Fe New Mexico was consistently at the top of most lists. Different sources give different numbers, but New Mexico, generally speaking, gets over 300 days of sunshine a year. The geographic and climatic diversity of this state also (somewhat) deters the ever-burgeoning crowds of  snowbirders who sprint as far south or west as necessary to reach nights that stay above freezing.

After nearly two years of living in my RAV4 tootling to and fro from New York to Florida, the feeling I had waited for and knew would come finally did. It was just time to venture, and I felt it. While it’s always hard to leave those you love and care about, it is most important to be your own primary witness. After all, we are the only one who really knows what is going on with ourself. So…off I finally headed toward my grand adventure. Off down New Mexico way.

One of my biggest concerns about traveling out west was mountain driving. After consulting both an atlas and google maps, I discovered Interstate 10 is one of our most southern routes and seemed like the flattest bet.  However, being very close to the 2024 election I also had a bit of apprehension about traveling through the deep south. Would I be terrorized by Texans in pickups racing up to my NY Ramper ready to abscond with my middling courage? My fears were not realized on that drive. That is not to say we don’t see a little antagonistic driving now and again.

Interstate 10 softens into low and rolling hills as it sweeps through west Texas, but soon enough as the drive angles toward New Mexico, the other-world of oil refineries dot the barren, dust-smoked highway. Squares of land flush with the RVs and makeshift homes of roustabouts, rig workers and technicians are hunkered beneath the flattening sun as mile after mile of broken truck parts and garbage quickly become familiar emblems of the American dream. Smell flows from the broken land, a stolid remain, buttressing against the transient. As the miles I drove burned through my own precious oil and fuel, I sent out gratitude to those who had chosen these perilous and desolate jobs.

I was glad enough to put this stretch of road behind me. The experience of driving down this unsung highway is still with me though - at the gas pump and in every mindless mile. A small sleeping part of me awoke that day and, as only travel can seed, my awareness of how things actually work grew.

After entering New Mexico via it’s southeastern corner, at some point the refineries begin to drop away – but the vibe remains well through Carlsbad. Would I find solace in southern New Mexico? With the advice of the “Camping in New Mexico” fb group, I was led to research the New Mexico State Campgrounds annual camping pass. Unlike most other states, some NM state campgrounds offer primitive and developed camping. Primitive sites are not established, have no amenities, and offer a real chance to find quiet and remote camping away from other campers – perfect for those who truly want to get away without driving deep into National Forest or BLM land.

Per usual, I had left things loose in terms of plans but had three or four places in mind for my first stay. A bit anxious and unsure, I reminded myself to be open to whatever came along. I had long since set a personal guideline to arrive wherever I’d be sleeping by 4 p.m. I settled on my choice, calculated my timing, and headed a bit further north.

As luck would have it, I would soon find my first real taste of solitude, replete with a hefty dose of sunlight, and far enough removed from the oil fields that they had shrunk into my memory -faded, but not forgotten.

Stayed tuned for New Mexico - segunda parte

For travelers:

New Mexico State Campgrounds recently implemented a significant cost increase. To me, the new cost is fair. Non-residents pay $600 a year. This will cover the cost of primitive camping. There are added fees for developed and electric sites. Think of it! $600 to primitive camp all year in NM's most enchanting state campgrounds.

Driving I-10 from Florida to New Mexico took five days/four nights. Stayed tuned for more information about the places I overnighted.

*****

Travel gear highlight:

Travel Foldable Electric Kettle

I use this kettle daily for pour over coffee. One of my top ten must haves!

For those fellow wanderers who have signed up for my blog – thank you! Check out Gear I Love for links to products I use and honest reviews.

Be sure to subscribe to the blog here. Please note: Amazon affiliate links are links for which I may get a small percentage if used to purchase something. Thank you! :)