Thursday, April 26, 2012

Western Impressions Art Exhibit, Crossland Gallery, El Paso

Crossland Gallery

My a-vocation as a painter has finally led me to my first group art exhibit at the Crossland Gallery. The exhibit runs from April 20 to May 26 and  is called "Western Impressions". I also recently became a member of the El Paso Art Association.  Here are photos of the gala opening of the exhibit, held last April 20, 2012.

My painting: "View of Elephant Butte Lake"
Pina & Pepe admiring my other painting  "The Open Highway"
Guests Willie & sister

With Tracy, president of the El Paso Art Association

First place winner
Awarding ceremonies
With fellow painter Eduardo Saucedo

You can visit the gallery at W. 500 Paisano (at Overland).

Sunday, April 22, 2012


A Visit to Carlsbad caverns, New MexicoA Visit to Carlsbad CavernsI woke up the next morning to catch the sunrise on the plains below touching the peaks of the Guadalupe Mountains. I wouldn't say my sleep was entirely restful, but  it certainly was eventful. First, there was the wind. Then, there were the footsteps of some creature outside my tent. The next morning, I met a guy who told me he saw some deer disappear into the bush. That probably was the creature that walked outside my tent. Anyway, that's what I like to believe. Mountain lion? Nah.
     The Guadalupe mountains used to be ocean reefs  formed three hundred million years ago when the whole area encompassing West Texas and part of northeast New Mexico used to be a vast ocean. Over an unimaginably long period of time, this ocean dried up, the reefs got pushed up to form the mountain range we now know as the Guadalupe Mountains. Essentially, I was standing on what used to be land that was underwater. I wanted to stay longer at the park, but I had to push on to get to my next destination: Carlsbad Caverns, forty miles away.

     I dismantled my tent and stashed everything in the trunk of the car. I promised to myself that I was going to do some serious hiking in these mountains, possibly in the fall. I heard that a certain area there called McKittrick Canyon was something of a paradise, with pine trees and brooks, a completely different world from the arid desert below.
     Carlsbad Caverns is a complex series of caves in the New Mexico portion of the Guadalupe Mountain range containing formations of staggering and exquisite beauty. Everybody I asked in El Paso who had gone there told me I should go, it was worth it. I asked friends who might want to go, but everybody seemed too busy to go anywhere. I wonder what it is with life in the US. Everybody is so busy working here, even on Sundays,  that they no longer have time to get away and contemplate nature. For most Filipinos here in the US, their idea of relaxation is watching The Filipino Channel with its inane  telenovelas. Travelling anywhere seems just so much of a bother. I keep telling people, "Life is short," all to no avail!
     Anyway, I have always been a lone traveller. Simpler  that way. Once more I drove my rented Toyota down highway 180/62 (I still don't know why they give two numbers to this highway), past the site of an old Butterfield Trail coach station which I sadly had to give a miss, and an hour or so later  I arrived at White's City.
     White's City is at the junction between the 180/62 and the  access highway to Carlsbad Caverns. I wondered why this place was named a city. It was more of a hitching post or an accidental grouping of buildings built because it was at the corner of the road to a national attraction. This brought to mind a controversy back in my home province of Leyte in the Philippines about the naming of a town called Baybay into a city. Opponents of the move, mainly mayors who were afraid of the reduction of their allotment in a pot of government subsidies, claimed that Baybay did not have the income to qualify becoming  a city. For me, income aside, Baybay seemed more of a city than White's here, so having seen what I've seen, I say, it was correct to name Baybay into a city.
Photo courtesy of National Park Service
     From the turn-off, it was still about thirty minutes to Carlsbad caverns. To go to Carlsbad Caverns, you ascend into the mountains and then you descend into a hole in those same mountains.  On either side of the road, you can see cliffs whose chalky, layered  appearance told the story of their oceanic origins. At this time of the year, there were very few vehicles on the road and the weather was cool and balmy. I wouldn't go here in June or July, when there would be traffic jams and the desert heat would prove  awful. October would be cooler, and the bats would still be there.
I parked at the spacious parking lot on top of the ridge overlooking the flat desert below. The views of the plain were tremendous. 

Inside the modern park center, I bought a ticket to the caves which cost me all of $5.  I went outside and followed a cement pathway. I encountered this at the beginning of the path:
   The park officials placed this sign out of an abundance of caution because, for a reasonably healthy person, this proved not to be a strenuous hike at all. If I want strenuous, I just remember  the Inca Trail, both going up and going down: that was strenuous, with a capital "S".
    On the hillside across from the path, I saw several pueblo-style buildings that had been constructed to house the park personnel back in the 1920's.
     Carlsbad caverns was declared a National Park  in 1923 by Calvin Coolidge. It was discovered by a cowboy named James White (who gave his name to White's City). He discovered it when he noticed a cloud of smoke emanating from a hole in the ground, a cloud that turned out to be millions of bats. The bats were not in the cave when I visited it, but are there from May to October. Amphitheater-style seats had been constructed to aid in the viewing of the spectacle of the bats flying out of the mouth of the cave.
Mouth of Carlsbad Caverns ( "The Bat Cave")
     As to the inside of the cave, the only thing I can say is: the deeper I went into the cave, the more my jaws dropped, and when I finally reach the so-called "Big Room" at the bottom of the shaft, roughly two hours after I started my descent (I stopped to take pictures), my jaws had fallen completely on the floor. The experience whetted my appetite to see more caves, such as the recently-discovered Lechuguilla Cave (also in Carlsbad) and the Cave of Crystals in Naica, Mexico. Those caves are almost impossible to get to, due to restrictions, but it pays to dream does it?
      I am not a violent man, but if you can go to these caves and hesitate for whatever reason,  I'll hold a gun to your head and force you to. At the back of mind, though, the greater wonder was how the US government built the whole structure of pathways, lighting and service structure to make exploring these caves so easy. I had been to a cave in Sagada, in the Philippines, and that one I did in the rough, guided by two local boys with one petromax each, one of which fell into an abyss (the petromax, not the boy).  I can tell you that a cave without a light source and whose handholds consisted of slots carved on bare rock is not for the faint-hearted! Here, the whole experience of spelunking had been smoothed over for the estimated 500,000 or so visitors who come here every year. Instead of worrying whether you were going to tumble down a pitch-dark ravine, the railings, strategic lighting  and paved pathway left you concentrating on the stalactites, stalagmites, speleothems and other spectacular formations in this underground wonderland of New Mexico.
     And so, here in pictures, are my photos of the wonders of Carlsbad Caverns. These pictures were taken with a Canon Rebel XS.  I wouldn't have been able to take these photos with a simple point-and-shoot!

Wednesday, April 18, 2012


Downtown El Paso

One day, on a beautiful day in spring 2012, I decided that that it was time to explore other parts of the Southwest that were within easy driving distance from the city of El Paso. "Easy" is a relative term in the Southwest. Two to three hours driving time between destinations is normal here. Just be sure that you have a reliable vehicle. Being stranded in the desert with a busted engine is no picnic. I rented a car from Enterprise ( a  2012 white Toyota Corolla). I loaded into the trunk a tent, a sleeping bag, and from Wal-mart, two 24-packs each of Coke Zero Lime and bottled water, a baked chicken, cheddar cheese, whole-grain bread and a jar of my favorite spread, Nutella. Armed with these essentials, I drove out of El Paso, took the 1-10 with a left on Yarbrough and a right into Montana. Montana  morphs into the 180/62 freeway. This highway  brings you out into the desert towards Carlsbad, New Mexico, where the object of my trip, Carlsbad Caverns, awaited me.
     Some people say that there is nothing in the desert. I say that driving through a desert plain like this, the Chihuahuan plain,  makes you immediately feel how insignificant you are in the larger scheme of nature. And when you realize that this whole flat landscape that you are speeding through used to be the bed of a large inland sea millions of years ago, your sense of time and place in the universe becomes even infinitesimally smaller.
Outside El Paso on Highway 180/62
      After two hours on the highway, I slowed down to a stop at a US Immigration/Customs checkpoint. There are several of these checkpoints going into New Mexico, as well as into Arizona and  California. A young, burly thirty-something officer told me to turn off the radio and asked for my identification. I gave him my ID.
Officer: "Sir, where you headed for?"
Me: "Carlsbad."
Officer: "And what would you be doing in Carlsbad?"
Me: "To see the Carlsbad Caverns(?)"
Officer: " And how long will you be staying in Carlsbad?
This question stumped me for a few seconds. I knew that, aside from the caves themselves, there must be something attractive about Carlsbad that perhaps warrants a month-long stay. However, I knew for a fact that I wasn't going to that famous namesake spa in Europe but to another desert city in the same desert plain as the city I came from.
Me: " I am staying for the night in Carlsbad, then make a loop through Roswell, Cloudcroft, Alamogordo and Socorro."
Officer (returning my card): "Thank you sir, have a good trip."
Nice bloke, but if you gave the wrong answer, even in jest, or if the German shepherd that sniffed through your car started getting wildly excited, you will definitely find your trip interrupted and turn unpleasant. These US Border officers mean business. Understandable, with Juarez nearby.
     Past the checkpoint, the landscape became even flatter, bordered by mountains on either side of the plain. To the left, the  mass of the Guadalupe mountains with the distinctive peak of El Capitan loomed ever nearer as I drove along. As if to remind me that this plain used to be a sea , and that those mountain ranges used to be ocean reefs, the Salt Flats slid into view, stretching to the foot of the Guadalupes and beyond.

About forty minutes from here, the land rose close to the mountains themselves, and soon  I was treated to a view that told me  I was  definitely in the Wild (South)West.
      It was not long before I saw a turn-off and a sign that read: "Guadalupe Mountains  National Park".  Like most motorists on automatic, I sped past,  but then I stopped, turned my car around and followed the road leading into park. Best decision I ever made. It turned out that this was a place where you could park your RV or pitch a tent. It was a park with toilet amenities and drinking water from fountains on the campground. Most importantly, it was uncrowded. Paying your tent fee of $8 involved the honor system. You put your money in an envelope, took a stub with the number of your tent location and your car registration number, and placed the envelope into a slot. If you didn't pay the fee, the park rangers will find out, because towards sunset, an officer drives around checking license plates and your stub on the dashboard.
I chose a tent location just a few feet from the gravel road.  A  convenient picnic table under a leafless tree came with it. It took me a while to set up the tent. When I finally succeeded in assembling the tent, I realized how ingeniously designed it was. The tent was all of a piece, which I spread onto the ground and threaded collapsible steel frames through. Some effort was required to bend the frames but when I had secured the tent with stakes and further weighted down the corners with heavy rocks, I had a waterproof, well-sealed, comfortable plastic igloo that could withstand strong winds, as it did later that night. And since it was made in China, at $29, it was cheap.
Tell me if there's any better location for a tent than this!
     At dusk, I saw a deer cross the road outside my tent. That night, the stars came out and talked to me, in their silent  way. I had worried somewhat about mountain lions, but a park ranger assured me no critters would molest me. Well, maybe apart from javelinas, creatures that looked like wild pigs but were actually related to the hippopotamus. Or a skunk or two. That night I imagined I heard the padding of soft feet on the gravel outside my tent. I didn't check what it was. I slept fitfully, listening to the winds that howled and keened outside like the lost souls of the  Mescalero Indians that used to roam the plains below, harvesting the cacti whose juice they fermented into potent brews. There were other campers nearby. I could hear their muffled conversations through the brush and rocks and wind early in the night. Then, save for the wind, everything fell silent. I had no internet, or electricity, or even a ready toilet nearby, but I felt that I had gone back to my roots.I felt alive, warm within my sleeping bag,   clasped into the bosom of Nature.

Southwest Night Sky
(Next post: Carlsbad Caverns)