ON THE ROAD: AN UNEXPECTED TURN

Roswell, NM to Cortez, CO | 477 miles

"Drive 137 miles on North Main Street," the GPS told us as we left Roswell at 7:18 a.m.

That gave us a good, long time to decide whether to end our day in Flagstaff or somewhere north. If winter weather was threatening, we planned to drive across Arizona and up California, through Oregon and into Seattle. But, the weather map opened up, leaving us a more direct route through Salt Lake City and Boise, a route I call the Northwest Passage.

So, when we reached the fork in the road at Albuquerque, we turned north, toward Shiprock and a detour to Four Corners, two sites that filled me with giggling anticipation.

Our path took us through towering formations of earth and rock, ravines and arroyos that sent my imagination on flights of fancy, the grandeur tickling my soul. It's fascinating to imagine what incredible forces both beneath and above the ground might have wreaked this mess of rock piles and gouges in the earth.

Ridges loomed up far on the horizon, snowcapped peaks to the west and north. As we left the town of Shiprock, the formation of Shiprock appeared to the west. We watched as it marched toward us, larger and larger.

"Surely there will be a scenic overlook to stop and take a picture," I said hopefully.

I was wrong. Eventually, I pulled off by a barbed wire fence.

Across from The Rock.

Sometimes pictures capture a scene, but in this case, it does squat. Shiprock is simply enormous. Chip feels that New Mexicans don't know what ships look like.

And then, just down the road, is the only place in the United States where four states meet. So, along with everyone else, we waited in line and took a picture in a state of confusion, parts of us in Arizona, Utah, Colorado and New Mexico.

But the best part of this day was the sight we didn't even plan for, and we got there in the magical light of sunset.

Palace Rock near Cortez, Colorado. Outrageous.

Chip and the distant Shiprock, 33 miles away.

Roswell to Cortez, 477 miles.

WIND THAT SPARKLES

A Sailor Visits New Mexico

That looks a wee bit like a palm tree, doesn't it? But, no, these are yuccas, the state flower of New Mexico, two particularly towering ones.

I went walking about here in my hometown and had quite forgotten the feel of that dry, crisp wind, all sparkly and tingly like Champagne. I ponder whether this dry breeze is sturdy enough to fill a sail but that seems too foreign to imagine. I believe the wind agrees. It will be long spent before it reaches any sea.

The unfettered sun, crackles warm on my skin. I reach my hand out over a green lawn to feel the cool moisture rising off the grass, the sun and wind gobbling it up before it rises any higher.

Heavy clouds on the horizon march toward us carrying water from who knows where. It should be no surprise that the clouds dump it all at once after carrying it so far.

The splashes of green are vibrant, a moving contrast to brown on brown. Super-green.

I'll be back to the palm trees and blue-on-blue soon enough, but not before my senses replay a childhood whiled away outdoors under a bare naked sun, cooled by a sparkling wind.

LAND CONTINUED...

New Mexico

... The simple joys of land. More of what I do on land and no longer take for granted:

• Use fast Internet. WOW.
• Sit in a desk chair.
• Heat up leftovers in a microwave.
• Run gallons of water over the strawberries.
• Leave a nightlight on, even if it doesn't keep boats from crashing into me at night.
• Do laundry, right down the hall!

SAILOR ON LAND

New Mexico

What does a sailor do when she sets foot on dry (very dry) land?

• Flush the toilet just to watch.
• Take a long, long shower.
• Watch Bonanza on TV. (TV!)
• Eat a peanut patty (okay, only in New Mexico).
• Wash my face with cold water -- by choice.
• Sit on a poofy couch and then in a recliner. Aaahh.
• Drive to two different grocery stores in a car.
• Adjust the whole house to my desired temperature. Oh, yeah!