Day 55 -- Clayton to Grants, New Mexico -- 374 Miles

As you can see by the miles traveled, we didn't end up stopping for much today. At lunch we squeaked out a few moments to visit the La Castenada Hotel in Las Vegas, New Mexico, but stopped for little else all day. We wanted to break away and see that famous hotel in Las Vegas because on our last trip in the area we learned that an investor had purchased the property with the intent of refurbishing it. Though we were skeptical at the time, today we were marvelously surprised to see that the refurbishment is well under way, and some of the rooms are already available for rent.

Looking back on our previous visit, I found the following write-up: "We arrived at Fred Harvey's old Castaneda Hotel which dates to 1898. I looked around on the web for more info and found the following: 'A northern Arizona hotelier, who restored La Posada in Winslow, has purchased the century-old railroad hotel in Las Vegas, N.M. Allan Affeldt said he bought the 25,000-square-foot La Castaneda earlier this month for $400,000.'

'The mission revival hotel was one of the first of the Harvey Houses, Fred Harvey's chain of hotels and restaurants that furthered tourism development in the Southwest. La Castaneda in 1899 hosted the first reunion of Teddy Roosevelt and his Rough Riders from the Spanish-American War.'

'Affeldt thought that the town has been waiting for this for decades. After World War II, Fred Harvey closed most of their buildings and they were sold off or torn down. Las Vegas leaders had long feared La Castaneda would be torn down, but Affeldt stepped in just as he did at La Posada, a 1930 Harvey House that had an uncertain future two decades ago. With his wife, artist Tina Mion, Affeldt bought La Posada in 1997 and together they transformed it into a tourism and cultural attraction with an acclaimed fine-dining restaurant and a wealth of historical artifacts.'

Since the town of Las Vegas arrived just about lunchtime as we motored down Interstate 25 from our camp last night in northeast New Mexico, we decided it was a great opportunity to check out the La Castenada again. As it turned out, though I didn't know where the vintage hotel was situated in town, I accidentally picked the right route which led us right to the front door.

Since it was a tad early for lunch by the time we found the hotel, we did a mini tour of the grounds. When we circled around to the side of the building facing the railroad tracks, I was thrilled to see a mason laying red bricks in the courtyard area. Naturally, I had to go watch him as I've mixed perhaps dozens if not hundreds of wheelbarrow-loads of mortar for all the projects at our house, including brick, block, and rock, and just love to watch someone work their masonry magic.

It didn't take me long to discover that the mason was an expert at his craft and had laid hundreds of the courtyard bricks. When we got to talking to him -- his name was Rodney -- I liked him instantly. He knew his craft, he was well spoken, and he was willing to pause a moment in his work and talk to us. Back in Carson City, I had watched endlessly our favorite mason, Charley LeClair ply his craft on our Jacks Valley property between 1978 and 2010. During those three decades I had become quite a connoisseur of the masonry craft. I know what good work looks like and when I saw Rodney's work, I saw immediately he was the real deal.

I was so impressed with what I saw, I asked Rodney if he ever got to northern Nevada. If so, I'd be willing to hire him to do a small project for me. He told me that he sometimes works in our area, which was just what I wanted to hear. He didn't have a card, but I left him mine and I truly hope that someday he comes to visit me and brings his mason's tools.

The reason we're picking up the pace is that we're starting to get very close to experiencing freezing temperatures at night. In fact, the whole reason we dropped south from mid-Kansas to central New Mexico is to try and get home before we have to worry about our RV water lines freezing with the overnight temperatures.

We had hoped to stay in Albuquerque tonight, but when we arrived at the KOA there we discovered that they were experiencing an increased number of guests because of the hot air balloon weekend coming up. When I stood at the check-in counter and asked about spaces, the attendant just shook her head and said, "Sorry, we're full up."

So we motored on to Grants, New Mexico which still had a few spaces available. It was 78 miles further west, but it's a pretty nice camp, and if you're fan of train spotting, the rail line runs by just a block away to the north.

Traveling this route in New Mexico couldn't help but remind Concetta and me of our very first vacation together in 1977. We had known each other for only about ten months and were not married yet when I suggested that we take a vacation together. Naturally she wanted to know what kind of a vacation I had in mind. "A camping vacation," I said. "We'll take a tent and a camp stove and stuff and we'll travel around the Southwest. It will be fun."

I don't think Concetta was as sold on the idea as I was in the beginning, but that didn't stop me from gathering the equipment together and making sure the car was ready for the open road. At the time we owned three cars between us. I had a couple of two-seater sports cars, and Concetta had a rather neglected 1964 VW bug with a very tired engine.

Deciding that the sports cars would not be quite as handy for hauling all the camping equipment, we decided to take the VW. I had it serviced, and I bought a large aluminum roof rack for the top which went a long way toward holding most of the larger pieces of gear.

About the 1st of July, as I remember it, we were ready to go. Mom agreed to watch Concetta's son, Jason, who was about six at the time, and we both took two weeks off from work. This trip would turn out to be only the first of a great many adventures we'd have together. We had so much fun on that southwestern trip that only three months later we got married.

The trip didn't exactly get off to a blazing start. We'd only traveled east from Carson City about fifteen miles when the linkage for the accelerator pedal fell apart and I had to effect a repair right on the roadside.

When we reached the town of Flagstaff, Arizona, we got up in the morning and discovered that the car would turn over but wouldn't start. Not sure what to do, I loosened the nut holding the distributor in position. Then I told Concetta to try and start the engine while I twisted the distributor one way, then the other. Amazingly, at one point in this procedure the engine roared to life. I tightened up the distributor nut, and we were off.

Later that day, when we were traveling toward Albuquerque, New Mexico, the cotter pin holding the right front wheelnut on the axle broke and fell out, and the nut and the wheel came close to falling off. At first we just started smelling something burning. But when we stopped, we discovered that the wheel had gotten so hot that all the paint had blistered. I re-tightened the wheelnut, and we later bought some grease in Albuguerque to re-grease the bearing just in case. Thankfully, we had no further problems there.

The worst quirk the VW Bug had was it's tendency to blow one or two spark plugs right out of the head when you made the mistake of downshifting going down a hill. This happened to us when we were visiting White Sands, New Mexico. But this wasn't all the car had in store for us. While we were motoring around the White Sands area we started hearing a significant "knock" in the engine, which prompted us to seek a mechanic forthwith.

When we finally found one, he just shrugged and told us he didn't really work on VWs. "But," he said, "there's a guy at the other end of town who does." Feeling pretty apprehensive since we didn't really have much money, we headed across town to the shop the mechanic had recommended. But incredibly, once we got to the other side of town, the engine had quieted down and we drove the car for another fifteen hundred miles, all the way back to Carson City, without further trouble.

We have a lot of memories from that trip: of camping in a cherry orchard in Salt Lake City; of eating the best Mexican food and sopapillas we'd ever had in Albuquerque, New Mexico; of climbing the spindly cliff house ladders at Mesa Verde, Colorado; and of seeing miles and miles of the wonderful southwest at 40 mph, which is the fastest the VW would go.

Well, that's it for now. Until next time the Happy Wanderers wish you happy travels and exciting adventures.