Friday, December 18, 2009 - Fort Stanton Cave Campground, Lincoln NM
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Eve Ball roadside marker, Lincoln NM, December 18, 2009
Today I planned to head up to Valley of Fires Recreation Area, Carrizozo NM. I never made it. I got waylaid by the jaw-dropping beauty of the rolling desert and grasslands along US 380 between Roswell and Carrizozo NM. I stopped to see what this Eve Ball roadside marker was all about and discovered I could camp right here.
With a little Googling (oh, how I do love this modern technology that lets me Google way out here!) I discovered the forest road across from the marker leads into the new Fort Stanton-Snowy River Cave National Conservation Area and up to the Fort Stanton Cave, the third largest cave in New Mexico. And a tiny little 3 site campground just beyond the entrance to the cave. Well, gee, this was just too good to pass up!
New Mexico State Parks News Release (pdf) issued December 17th, 2009
Contrary to a hearsay report I got this morning, the New Mexico State Parks will be closed December 24th which means no camping will be available in the park system the nights of December 23 and 24.
Official Scenic Historical Marker: Eve Ball (1890 - 1984)
AUTHOR AND PRESERVATIONIST
A pioneer in the preservation of the history of people in southeastern New Mexico, Eve wrote over 150 articles and numerous books chronicling Mescalero and Chiricahua Apaches, Anglo and Hispanic settlers. Her honesty, patience and determination to learn from them, won the confidence of the Apache elders, saving oral histories certain to be lost without her.
Night camp
Primitive Campground at Fort Stanton Cave, Lincoln NM
- This is a primitive campground with three sites and a single pit toilet.
- Verizon cell phone and Broadband service is good.
- Fort Stanton-Snowy River Cave National Conservation Area info
- Locate Fort Stanton Cave Campground 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.