It's a Rigorous Life - Cebolla Mesa

Boy howdy, this leisure-living is rigorous!! 

I arrived in Taos Monday afternoon in search of a new bow string. I thought I'd lost mine (more on this later), but as luck would have it, the archery shop was closed. 

I grabbed a Taos Visitors Guide and went looking for a place to camp. The road to the D.H. Lawrence Ranch crosses National Forest so I took it. I don't need to remind you that I AM Lucky Herrmann, but as I drove along noting the various side roads I cogitated on the hand-lettered, cardboard sign that had said the Ranch was open from 10 - 4. It's owned by the University of New Mexico and when I worked there one of the perqs was to rent it. I'd never had the time and was interested in seeing it.  

As luck would have it, this was the first day in four years the Ranch was open. Mr. Medina, in charge of bringing it back online, regaled me with its history and how his grandfather had killed huge rattlers on the west side of The Gorge when hauling water to his homestead. As I was leaving he suggested Cebolla Mesa for camping. This is my third night. 

It's a bonafide campground -- there's a pit toilet and a picnic table or two -- but the sites aren't designated; there're several dirt tracks from which to choose. The area is steppe bounded by juniper-pinon, many are on the brink...of The Gorge that is.

The string turned up; it had fallen behind the driver's seat and finally got bored (I guess) and crawled out from under some luggage.

By now I'd broken my arrows so went back into town. At the Taos Hunting Co. I was lucky enough to get Roy's assistance. He spent the better part of an hour explaining the differences -- fletch type & length (of fletch), point weight, shaft materials. I bought a package of twelve and waited while he assembled them. I also got some much-needed how-to advice. Thanks Roy!

Then on to Brodsky Bookstore where Willie Stark graciously stood (he was busy napping when I arrived) for his portrait. 

A bookstore MUST!!  ---  The cat.

Not now; I'm busy.

Well, alright, since it's you.

I hear yer mudder callin'.

Back at Cebolla Mesa, I perused the Visitors Guide and wrote up a calendar of events. After a bit I decided it was all too much, packed up and...headed to the highway (last phrase taken from Steppenwolf's: Born to be Wild). Outside San Luis, Colorado I got to looking at the distances to public land and decided to go SW about 100 miles where I could then take the high road to Platoro. It was the best decision I've made in weeks.

Whim! It makes the going great!