We spent a couple of days in the mountains. As in real mountains, with snow and skiing resorts. Too high to my liking though. We went up by car, 12500 feet, and I was so scared that I forgot my camera…
So all I can share for now is some lower by the ground pictures. Of Ruisodo. A resort. Not truly my place. I can imagine skiing people liking it a lot, since I don’t ski, I could only love the buildings, herds of deer, and the trees.
One of our daytrips while there was to Lincoln. Small town in the high mountains of New Mexico, mostly associated to the history of Billy the kid, famous outlaw, who finally got shot by Pat Garrett, sheriff extra ordinaire. As it goes with outlaws.
Right now no flying bullets, only flying false arrows coming from Corbin his little gun, sticking to windows and glass. Corbin lives in Lincoln with his family, in the Curly saloon. Don’t ask about the name, I can’t tell you.
The Curly saloon is now a store, lived in with Corbin and his family, and their pitt Coco. The picture is further down. Still having problems blogging on ipad. But we are heading home on sunday to arrive in jolly good old England on monday, and if jetlag is good to me, I will be blogging my trip from tuesday on.
With buildings dating from 1870, which in American datelines is pretty darn old. We have to remember that Americans are big fans of tearing down. In New Mexico, the climate is such that wooden structures dry out and stay up
Now the cemetary in Lincoln was interesting. I love to browse old burial places, meeting people who at one point meant a lot to their families. Now buried and hopefully resting in peace in between their sister souls.
And of course we view a couple of Adobe structures. The old store, part of the war in Lincoln, the war about beef contracts and army money, where two store owners in town fought and scrambled, and where Billy the kid got caught in the middle.
The biggest surprise for me in that tiny 100 year old cemetary is the name of Maes. A truly Belgian name, and I have been trying to find out how a Maes ends up in America, in New Mexico. So far no luck, but I will continue the search once I get back home and with access on my regular computer.
And to end this story about outlaws and flemish names in New Mexico a view on the sign that announces the town of San Patricio… With bullet holes, yes sir, real bullet holes. We got out alive… no worries!
Next blog back on the usual place, photocatseyes.net. Tuesday or wednesday. I sure will miss the Arizona sun!
Sent from my iPad