On my way out of El Paso, I made a bit of a mistake. Namely, I should have spent the night in Las Cruces. It's New Mexico's second largest city (OK, that's not saying much, but anyway...) and it seems to have some of the things that El Paso lacks.

For instance, I took a spin through the La Messilla area and I saw some Christmas carollers in the square there singing away for a crowd of about 100 people. It was mainly a family-type of event, and the only shops there appeared to be touron gift shops and restaurants, so I didn't stop. Nevertheless, unlike El Paso there appeared to be people out and about at night. The motels there are expensive for some reason, but I could have grabbed a tent site. Instead, I kept driving west on the 10. Just between you and me, I kinda wanted to get out of New Mexico. Not that it's that bad of a state and all, it's just that after spending a couple weeks in West Texas and southeast New Mexico, it was kinda wearing on me, if you know what I mean.

Around Deming, I started to get a bit tired, so I decided to look for accomodations. By this time I had decided to tent to save money. I stopped at the Road Runner campground. There were no other tent campers there, and it was a set of open spaces next to a fence separating it from another RV park. I didn't consider it that safe, so I kept on moving. I decided I could make it to Lordsburg before I crashed.

By the time I got to Lordsburg I couldn't drive any further. There's a KOA there, and that's where I planned to spend the night. When I first drove in, I saw a hare hop its merry way across the road. Oh, how nice! As it was late, the office was closed. But, as with most other KOA's, they love their late registrators.

While familiarizing myself with the campground map, someone approaches me on the driver's side and from behind, and asks if he can help me. I decide to take a look around first. He says I should go for it. The tent site at the back of the camp is taken, but the ones at the front are free. Unfortunately, the ones at the front are near the entrance gate, and I didn't particularly like the look of the houses right outside the gate.

Nevertheless, I decide to get one of the sites. The Philipino owner curtly fills out the requisite forms in triplicate. I decide, partially based on past experiences with others from the Philipines (send your letters to abuse[at]tolstoy[dot]com), that it's not so much that he's rude, it's just his way. I was originally thinking he was an asshole, and I was considering not giving him my bidness. But, after coming to that realization, I go ahead with the transaction. Only afterwards does he go into the thing about the restrooms.

You see, a lady was almost raped at another nearby campground's restrooms. And, since he's near the freeway, people occasionally stop by to use his facilities. The restrooms there are now equipped with touchpad entry locks, and as an official KOA guest I am given their combination. OK, OK, when I use the restroom I'll be sure and close the door behind me. Fine, let me set up the tent and sack out.

Which I proceeded to do. I'd just put in all three poles in the tent body when, looking for the best place to locate the tent, I noticed something out of place. There were several pellets mixed in with the gravel of my new tent site. Now, I realize that hares or rabbits haven't so far been implicated as Hanta virus carriers; that's been restricted to a few species of mice and one species of rat. Nevertheless, they are rodents and I don't want to get sick. So, I decided to cancel my stay there.

Thankfully, the owner was making the rounds of the place, shining his flashlight under the RVs parked there. He was wearing a bandana, and I couldn't tell whether it was him or some very bold RV burglar. It turned out to be him, and he agreed to cancel me out. It appears that, aside from not sweeping the (most likely generally unused) tent sites, he's a Lordsburg resident who's doing the best with what he's got.

After that brief waste of time, I began looking for a motel, and I stayed at the Budget Motel on their I10 loop for $25. It wasn't that bad at that price.

In the morning I took a tour of the town. Lordsburg looks like a stereotypical southwest town on the extreme decline. The ghost town of Shakespeare is located a few miles south of Lordsburg. It's only open to the public a few days a month, and that wasn't one of the days. Even though I didn't see Shakespeare, I'd imagine that in places Lordsburg and Shakespeare look similar.

A business loop of the I10 runs through the town. Their business loop is about the same length as that of Fort Stockton. However, the business loop in Fort Stockton has a large number of motels ("Over 900 motel rooms!" their touron information tells us) as well as a fair supply of fast food restaurants. Lordsburg has a smaller number of motels and associated businesses, and many of them are boarded-up. In certain sections, 1/3 of them appeared to have been patiently awaiting renovation for many years. Only the parts directly off the freeway have a few chain motels and fast food stores.

There's only a small section of the main drag that isn't boarded up. In that section, I stopped in an antique store. Apparently a local burgher had purchased a couple of blocks there and is in the process of fixing them up. Unfortunately, he spends his weekends in Tucson, so he wasn't available for an interview.

The young lady at the gas station had a nice face, but she was a bit stocky bodily. Plus, she failed the Lonewacko TQ (touron quotient) test. She wasn't able to give me a detailed explanation of why Lordsburg had a museum or a historic area. Plus, she was too young and, after I started to hear her discussing local gossip with someone else, I quickly rejected that idea.

"But, Lonewacko, you should have spent more time there. Done a photo essay. Interviewed lots of people, found out why they kept on hangin' on in the boarded-up town. Then, you might have something blog-worthy. A photo essay on residents of an incipient ghost town would make this blog worth reading!"

Listen, m*$%^#$%@#($%, if you want a f*$((#& photo essay, you get off your f#(@)($ a*$ and drive to f@#)$(# Lordsburg yourself. I'm f*$(#($ sick of this s#*@. I drive all the f#*@**# way from L.A. to Maine and back, and all you b(#@#*#@ can do is whine like a b*$#*. F#@@ you, m$#(@(#$(##(s.