What a long, strange trip it’s been… part 2… (or); The perfect amount of snow, the perfect amount of horses… the final chapter…

No, it isn’t the last photos of snow…

And it isn’t the last pictures of horses… wait… does this horse make me look fat???

It’s snowing… just the right amount!

But I am going to give you a snow and horse break, and show some random photos in some random posts about the last two days of my latest adventure.

And let’s face it. Random is what I do best… wait… what is going on with my eyebrows???

My kid, who is going to be a nurse.

It’s a bush… or a fancy dessert.

Remember, I am the guy who perfected taking selfies while riding a horse, way back in the posts about our second honeymoon on Maui.

That is the perfect amount of snow to be on a car.

Did I mention that we rode horses right by the Rio Grande river?

Did I mention that the snow was fluffy and sparkly?

Ride ’em, cowboys… uh… cowpeople?

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What a long, strange trip it’s been… part 1… (or); The perfect amount of snow, the perfect amount of horses… part 2…

You might have noticed that this series of posts has started over with number 1. And I changed the title from ‘what a long strange trip it’s being’ to ‘what a long strange trip it’s been’. Because I am home now.

Bonus points if you recognized the title from a line in a Grateful Dead song.

Yes, I am back in San Diego, but just to warn you, I just download 346 photos I took on the two-day drive back home.

And I am not even done posting the photos I downloaded in New Mexico. Ha!

No, I am not going to make you look at that many photos. I wouldn’t do that to you.

I will probably delete 60 or 80 of the worst photos. Ice crystals on the front windshield of my car. They look like little snowflakes!

We got to know the ranch dogs before we got to know the horses.

A dusting of snow on bricks.

Mollie and Ben. Love and horses.

Also, I will go back to doing some weird posts in between the trip pictures.

And some of the photos I took on the way home will be weird…

So, uh, see you around?

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What a long, strange trip it’s being… part 9… (or); The perfect amount of snow, the perfect amount of horses… part 1…

That is a happy man. It is also a happy horse.

And that is some sparkly snow.

Me, my daughter Mollie, and her boyfriend Ben, enjoying a trail ride in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

The day before we went riding, it snowed.

Ben and Dewey. And Mollie and Foxy.

I have always said that I like my snow just like I like my tigers. Close enough to drive to and look at, but not in my yard.

Mollie getting double horse snuggly action.

It is okay. This isn’t my yard. It is the yard of the house we rented to come see Mollie start her nursing college classes.

We hung around the place where we went on the trail ride after the ride was done, and they let us help put the horses away in the corrals.

Snow flowers.

Looking good, Ben.

I ended up in the background of Mollie’s selfie.

You may have noticed that this is number 1 in my snow/horse set of posts. So, stay tuned for more snow and horses.

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What a long, strange trip it’s being… part 8… (or); Weird stuff and horses…

No more of this posting things in the actual order they happened. It just isn’t me. So here, in no particular order, are some stuff I saw in Old Town Albuquerque, and some horses.

Because I went to Old Town, and I met some horses, and rode on one of them.

There is a cat in that picture.

That’s Elsa. She had to lug me around for two hours.

Weird stuff.

Horses.

Weird stuff.

Horses.

Okay, that isn’t weird. Just Old Town.

Same with that.

I found a fancy mirror in the hotel on my first day on this road trip… so… uh… yeah.

A moment of bonding.

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What a long, strange trip it’s being… part 7… (or); This is why we are in New Mexico…

Our younger daughter Mollie started nursing college at the University of New Mexico.

They have a great nursing college there. Also, Mollie’s boyfriend Ben lives in New Mexico, near the college. Coincidence? I think not!

Mollie is going to be a great nurse. Since she was young, she always healed anyone or anything that was sick or injured. She is a natural. They have a ceremony for new students called the ‘White Coat Ceremony’, where the faculty welcomes the students and present them with their first official white coat. We rented a house to see the ceremony live… and… uh… covid.

So we all watched it on a live stream. Check out the official Albuquerque decorations.

Mollie, taking the nurses oath.

It was pretty awesome. Also, we could drink margaritas, which they wouldn’t have let us do in the presentation hall, I suspect.

Mollie rocked it. She was the only one to pull off the double arm simultaneous sleeve entry gambit.

Yay, Mollie!!!

The excitement was palpable, as you can see by this photo of her sister Jessica and her brother-in-law, Jason. (Just kidding, this was taken earlier, before the show started).

So, yeah.

Go Mollie.

And it snowed one night. Which is probably more exciting to us Southern Californians than to some of you.

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What a long, strange trip it’s being… part 6… (or); The trailhead, where I met a cool dog…

I know, I meet a lot of cool dogs, but this is the first one I met at this trailhead in Albuquerque New Mexico.

A baby tumbleweed.

The underside of a baby tumbleweed.

A Prickly Pear cactus.

This cactus is collecting tumbleweeds.

Desert plants never seem very welcoming.

This is high desert. There is snow up there. More on snow later.

Albuquerque through a telephoto lens.

The beyond of Albuquerque.

A bird.

Did I mention that I met a cool dog.

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What a long, strange trip it’s being… part 5… (or); Goodbye, Tombstone…

It is time to say goodbye to historic Tombstone, Arizona… with a quick stop at the Boot Hill cemetery on the way out of town.

So, adios, Tombstone, with your weird mix of history and tourist trap.

I enjoyed my little visit. I love history. It explains how we ended up as we are.

Real history happened in this town.

And now people are making money on that history. Which is fine. Without all those famous Western figures and what they did in Tombstone, I doubt many people would take the time to detour over and visit the town.

So you have to pay to get into Boot Hill.

Which I didn’t.

I took some photos over the fence.

I supported the local economy by paying to get into the Birdcage Theater.

But all those people under that sandy, rocky ground, they were a part of history. Now, with no other words to distract you, some views of the desert in Arizona and New Mexico…

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What a long, strange trip it’s being… part 4… (or); The record-breaking poker game of Tombstone, Arizona…

That poker table in the foreground holds the world’s record, according to Guinness, of the longest running poker game of all time, For nine straight years the game ran. You had to sign up at the bar for a place at the table, when a player passed out, went off to sleep or eat, visit with one of the ‘ladies’ or was gunned down for cheating. I didn’t actually Google that to fact check it, but that is what the guy at the Birdcage Theater told me.

Wait, that photo is missing something…

Ahhhh, much better.

This is the basement of the Birdcage Theater.

This is real Western history.

There are still unopened barrels of wine and bottles of whiskey down there.

You could smell the past.

Back upstairs once more, and we see a famous Faro table.

So, if you turn around to look at the piano, you are looking over the sight of a short-range shootout. Let’s do that.

Alrighty then. I didn’t Google this ‘famous’ duel, but I bet Doc won.

This is the actual hearse that took the dead to Boot Hill.

It is inlaid with real gold.

That is an actual viewing casket from the 1800’s. Once people had paid their respects, the body, if there was no money to pay for a real coffin, would be put in a pine box, and transported to Boot Hill.

Oh, the opulence of the private boxes.

Goodbye, Birdcage Theater. It is time to head out of Tombstone… with one short stop on the way out of town… and get back to our adventure.

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What a long, strange trip it’s being… part 3… (or); Trouble in Tombstone…

History is not for the faint of heart.

I mean, pretty much everybody in history ends up dying, one way or another.

See, this is why I get up early on my adventures. There was a short while where I had the streets of old Tombstone almost to myself. The history felt closer then.

Weirdly, the most historic place in Tombstone, in some ways, is the Birdcage Theater. It is one of the few buildings that didn’t burn in the fire that came after the town’s heyday.

Pretty much every famous cowboy that you can name ended up here at one time or another.

This place reeks of history. There are still hundreds of bullet holes in the walls and ceiling.

Famous actors, actresses and musicians came from all around the world and somehow ended up here, on that very stage. And it wasn’t easy to get to Tombstone back in the day. Hell, it ain’t easy to get there now.

The private boxes were much sought after.

I wonder how long he has been hanging around?

This is supposed to be one of the most haunted places in the United States. They have nightly ghost tours.

Stay tuned to the next post, where we will delve even more deeply into the history of Tombstone.

And that there card table.

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What a long, strange trip it’s being… part 2… (or); The O.K. Corral was… uh o.k….

Since I had to pass through Arizona to get to New Mexico, I set out from the hotel in Tucson early and ended up taking a detour to see Tombstone. I didn’t actually get to see the O.K. Corral. You have to pay to see it, by buying a ticket to the reenactment of the famous shootout. I didn’t want to stay in Tombstone that long. I had miles to go. So I saw the wall around the O.K. Corral.

What I am saying is that Tombstone, a real part of the real history of the American West, is now mostly a tourist trap.

That is not to say that it isn’t worth stopping at. I got there early, and had most of the town to myself at first.

And I really enjoyed my short stay.

There were places where you could almost forget the tourist trap element.

You could almost imagine the town in the late 1800’s.

You could squint, and imagine what it was like, with horses and wagons and stagecoaches and cowboys and sheriffs.

But the illusion was transitory. That isn’t a bordello. That is an ice cream shop.

There are constant reminders that history did indeed happen right where you are standing.

Uh, that is not a real stagecoach.

We all know that the real Tombstone cemetery is called Boot Hill. That is a miniature golf course.

And why was that ever really a thing?

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