Tuesday, February 12, 2008 - Pancho Villa State Park, Columbus NM
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Tularosa Basin and White Sands from the line cabin, Dog Canyon Trail, Oliver Lee Memorial State Park, Alamogordo, New Mexico, February 2, 2008
The view down canyon from the Dog Canyon line cabin
What a neat spot the builders of this little stone cabin chose; a spot perfectly situated to offer its residents a nice view from their front yard down through Dog Canyon to the white sands of the Tularosa Basin below. The trail coming up Dog Canyon drops down off the second bench just to the left of that big rock you see up there on the left, crosses the crick with its supply of fresh water and comes into this little copse from the left.
Sorry about the lousy picture. The lighting from the mid day sun wasn't kind to this neophyte photographer and his total reliance on the camera to take care of these little lighting details. I've got a bit to learn about this photography business.
Night camp
Site 29 - Pancho Villa State Park, Columbus NM
- Verizon cell phone service - good signal
- Verizon EVDO service - good signal
- Go to the Pancho Villa State Park website
- Locate Pancho Villa State Park on my Night Camps map
- Check the weather here
It's No Use Arguing Tastes with a Cow
By what appears, furthermore, to be the compensating justice of Nature, the treasures of the earth are always hidden in the most unattractive, dismal, and dreary spots. At least all the mining places I ever visited are so located, and Bisbee is no exception. To get away from the cramped little village and its unsavoury restaurant, I established my first camp four miles south of it on a commodious and pleasant opening, where we could do our own cooking. But here a new annoyance, and rather a curious one, was met with. The cattle of the region evinced a peculiar predilection for our wearing apparel. Especially at night, the cows would come wandering in among our tents, like the party who goes about seeking what he may devour, and on getting hold of some such choice morsel as a sock, shirt, or blanket, Mrs. Bossie would chew and chew, “gradually,” to quote Mark Twain, “taking it in, all the while opening and closing her eyes in a kind of religious ecstasy, as if she had never tasted anything quite as good as an overcoat before in her life.” It is no use arguing about tastes, not even with a cow.