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New Mexico was a pain. Oh it was beautiful. Bluffs and vistas, rivers and mountains. But we couldn’t find a campsite. We had to get on the Internet and find a private RV park up in the mountains. It looked more like some strange recluse’s backyard than an RV park. In every direction decades old RV’s were scattered here and there. Now my Pup is small, but dispute it’s diminutive size, it took every bit of my skill to wedge the trailer between a gigantic beat to crap RV on one side and a well used silver Air Stream on the other. It was like trying to push a piece of wet toilet paper between the tight pages of a book. After going real slow, I finally pulled in.
The RV park looked more like a Walmart parking lot than a mountain resort. Odd as it seems, it looked as if people were actually living there in Lou of having a house or normal apartment or something. It was in the sticks they were chickens and dogs barking and it was kind of wild. We met a guy with a gigantic RV he bought for a song. He was telling us how he sold his house and was on a Mission to stay off the grid and someday end up in southern New Mexico where he planned to work as a helper at a large RV camp. Cool, a man with ambition.
One wonderful aspect of this Santa Rosa trip was the fact that about 5 miles up the mountain from the RV camp was some incredible bike trails. You may be asking yourself why do we stay at this weird place in New Mexico. It was because New Mexico would not allow any out-of-state residents to stay at end of their parks so we are limited to our venues.
