Viva!: A weekend in New Mexico
Justin Dubuisson
Issue date: 4/24/09 Section: Trinity Life
He looked in the window to see Laura and Kaki smiling. I guess we looked white enough. "How far are you traveling tonight?"
I suck at specifics. "I don't know," an honest answer, but still wrong. He looked at me suspiciously, looked at my passengers, looked at Bessie, then stood up and waved us by.
I drove for two more hours, chased jackrabbits with Bessie for another, and finally pulled into a campground around 4:30 a.m.
By midnight the next day we rendezvoused at a cheap motel with former Trinity student, Tyler Lovelady, and his equally lanky German friend, Moritz Kretz.
We awoke at 4:30 a.m. to make the long drive to the climax of our adventure. Every mile we drove into the pass became more of a winter wonderland until absolutely everything was covered in an immaculate blanket of snow.
Bessie had such trouble with maintaining traction that, on the descent of a certain hill, we suddenly realized that we wouldn't make it back up under the conditions. When Laura hit the brakes, we slid and rotated for another hundred feet. Tyler barely avoided disaster, swerving his Jaguar around us. Icy roads were New Mexico's fatal blow and forced the end of our journey.
Having failed our quest, we did the next best thing: The Rocky Challenge. Raw eggs for breakfast.
"No way," Kaki said.
"Go big or go home!" I said. She couldn't say no. That mantra is like a spell. She took an egg, cracked it on her bike, and, on the count of three, she, Tyler, and I threw back our heads to suck the undeveloped embryos out of Styrofoam cups.
We threw one more punch at New Mexico on the way out by climbing a precipice overlooking a valley. "You guys didn't see the 'no rock climbing signs,' did you?" I asked at the top.
"Where were they?'" Laura asked.
I smiled, "I don't know. I didn't see them."
I suck at specifics. "I don't know," an honest answer, but still wrong. He looked at me suspiciously, looked at my passengers, looked at Bessie, then stood up and waved us by.
I drove for two more hours, chased jackrabbits with Bessie for another, and finally pulled into a campground around 4:30 a.m.
By midnight the next day we rendezvoused at a cheap motel with former Trinity student, Tyler Lovelady, and his equally lanky German friend, Moritz Kretz.
We awoke at 4:30 a.m. to make the long drive to the climax of our adventure. Every mile we drove into the pass became more of a winter wonderland until absolutely everything was covered in an immaculate blanket of snow.
Bessie had such trouble with maintaining traction that, on the descent of a certain hill, we suddenly realized that we wouldn't make it back up under the conditions. When Laura hit the brakes, we slid and rotated for another hundred feet. Tyler barely avoided disaster, swerving his Jaguar around us. Icy roads were New Mexico's fatal blow and forced the end of our journey.
Having failed our quest, we did the next best thing: The Rocky Challenge. Raw eggs for breakfast.
"No way," Kaki said.
"Go big or go home!" I said. She couldn't say no. That mantra is like a spell. She took an egg, cracked it on her bike, and, on the count of three, she, Tyler, and I threw back our heads to suck the undeveloped embryos out of Styrofoam cups.
We threw one more punch at New Mexico on the way out by climbing a precipice overlooking a valley. "You guys didn't see the 'no rock climbing signs,' did you?" I asked at the top.
"Where were they?'" Laura asked.
I smiled, "I don't know. I didn't see them."
Be the first to comment on this story